The days following the festival were quiet, very quiet, but Alaric felt that silence on his shoulders. Eleanor was gone, distant, as she had warned her husband she would be. Not that she actively avoided him, but somehow, space existed between them where never before. That new space silently agreed to hold their distance until Alaric determined his heart.
With Rosalind, it seemed one was moving towards a close. She would smile with different touches to the lips and be more observant to the attention given her presence. And it had never once been discussed that on the night festival since she and Alaric had indeed conversed over their disagreement. He could still see hope spreading across the very surface where her hands seem to take her time and let linger there as the body passed in passing against.
Alaric felt sandwiched between them, and the weight of his indecision pressed on him harder than ever. He missed the ease he once had with Eleanor, the banter and the laughter. Yet, whenever he looked at Rosalind, the guilt gnawed at him. He cared about her—there was no denying that—but he couldn't shake the growing feelings he had for Eleanor, feelings that seemed to deepen every time he thought about her.
One afternoon, Rosalind asked Alaric to walk with her into the woods. The air was cool with autumn, and leaves had just begun to unfold into brilliant shades of red and gold. It was a peaceful scene, but Alaric's mind was far from it.
Do you have plans after harvest?" Rosalind asked as they walked under the trees, her voice airy but curious.
Alaric shrugged, not taking his eyes from the path. "I haven't planned that far ahead. Much still needs to be done before winter.".
Rosalind smiled at him tenderly. "You can stay in the village a while longer, there's always work to be done and you have now become part of the community.".
Alaric hesitated, unsure how to answer. The more he thought about staying the longer, the more attractive it sounded, but the tension that lingered between him, Rosalind, and Eleanor was one thing he could not turn a blind eye to. The village felt more home than it ever had, but it also felt like a place where everything had complicated.
"I'll think about it," Alaric said finally, offering her a weak smile.
She seemed to nod in agreement, her fingers brushing his arm as they walked on. They settled into a silence for a little while, filled only with the rustle of leaves and crickets beneath their feet. It would have been so peaceful had his thoughts allowed it to be so.
Eventually, they entered a clearing in the woods where a small stream cuts through the trees. Here, Rosalind halted and turned to face Alaric with a concerned expression.
"You've seemed a bit distant lately," she said softly, concern etched in her voice. "Is everything okay?"
Alaric's heart sank. He knew it was coming, he just didn't know how to navigate it. He couldn't keep pretending everything was fine, nor did he want to hurt her.
"I've just had a lot on my mind," he admitted, running a hand through his hair.
Rosalind studied him for a moment, her eyes softening. "Is it. us?
Alaric stalled, his throat constricting. He wanted so badly to tell her it was the truth, though the words felt heavy in his mouth. How did he explain that his heart was torn, that the more he tried, he found it increasingly difficult to say no to his feelings regarding Eleanor?
"I care for you, Rosalind," Alaric ended up saying finally, very quietly. "You matter to me. But….
The smile wavered, but she did not avert her eyes. "But?"
Alaric took a deep breath as the weight of his guilt pressed down upon him. "I don't know if I can give you what you're asking for."
Rosalind furrowed her brow, confusion flickering across her face. "What do you mean?
Alaric swallowed hard, his heart beating inside the cage of his chest. "I don't want to hurt you, Rosalind. But I need to be honest with you. Things have been changing for me. And I don't know if I can ignore that anymore."
Rosalind's expression changed. Understanding came into her eyes, and she was suddenly silent, her gaze dropping to the ground as she processed his words.
I see, she said softly, almost whispering.
Alaric's chest felt heavy seeing her grieved. He wanted to go to her, comfort her, but knew that only seemed to add to the complication.
I never wanted it to become this confusing, Alaric said with a tension in his voice. But I'm not about to lie to you. You deserve better.
She nodded slowly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Thank you for honesty, Alaric. I do really appreciate that. I just.I thought maybe we could have something more.".
Alaric's heart wracked with a pain from her words. He had always loved the heart of gold, that sunny disposition of Rosalind. And part of him had wanted to believe that their friendship could be something more. But time had taught him otherwise; he had realized that his love for Eleanor eclipsed any he might have ever felt for Rosalind.
"I'm so sorry," Alaric whispered in a heavy voice.
She smiled sadly, wiping a tear from her cheek. "It's all right. I guess I always knew there was something between you and Eleanor. I just didn't want to admit it."
Alaric looked down, guilt gnawing at him. "I didn't want to hurt you."
Rosalind shook her head, her smile bittersweet. "You didn't mean to. And maybe… maybe I was holding onto something that was never really there."
They stayed there for a moment without saying anything, the quiet of the stream filling up the space between them. Alaric wished to take away the pain he saw in her eyes; however, he knew the hurt would still be there no matter what he says.
After a long period of silence, Rosalind took a deep breath and straightened her back. "I think I need some time," she said quietly. "To figure things out for myself."
Alaric nodded as he understood. "All the time you want,"
Rosalind gave Alaric a final view, then she turned with her slow steady steps around to walk away. The boy watched as she receded from his view - this time it was to his deep loss.
With Rosalind disappearing into the trees, Alaric was left alone in the clearing, weighed down by his decisions. He'd been honest with Rosalind, and it wasn't victory as much as a new chapter in a life he wasn't sure was ready for him.
Alaric only thought of Eleanor on the way back to the village, a future they would have had without any proper understanding. Of one thing, though-he was now sure that his heart had chosen, and the journey could never be traveled again