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The day she was proposed—Jeyne Westerling remembered thinking—was one of the happiest days of her life. Not only Robb Stark, the man of her dreams, was finally asking her to marry him, but he also did so in the exact manner she would’ve liked him to: in front of her whole family, telling her how much he loved her.
The ring on her finger the next day, after they had one of their passionate—but more far apart than she would like—nights of sex was a glowing reminder of what she had begun to think as the single goal lacking to make her parents proud. Not only was Robb the perfect man-boyfriend-fiancé-husband, he was also, in her mother’s mind the perfect candidate for son-in-law, and Jeyne… she loved him deeply, it only helped the way their joined hands would warrant all sorts of stares.
The following weeks felt like a dream. Finally she had her life on track, graduating law school side by side with her fiancé, deciding on the date, having dinner dates with their friends, and, most of all, the afternoons she’d now spent with Robb’s family. His mother, that didn’t approve much of her at first, warmed up quite nicely to her now that they were engaged. The appraising look in her face when she watched Jeyne not so scary anymore. The delightful conversations she’d have with Sansa, who hoped she would be proposed too soon enough.
Soon they were moving into a place of their own, waking up next to each other every day, and though she saw the dark circles under his eyes growing and the cool, uncaring way he’d answer to anything relating to the wedding, she was far too happy to feel like it was anything but tiredness and usual male disinterest.
It lasted a while, the realm of dreams, the image she had of the perfect house, the perfect marriage, the perfect children. The joining of Westerling and Stark, a match that would make her… make both them.
If only she had known then how she’d be undone by it.
When she met Robb she knew, he would be the perfect boyfriends. It was like the missing puzzle piece she looked for all her life. The movie moment she never expected but always hoped for. The way he smiled at her, lips opened wide like he was truly happy to meet her, blue eyes set on her even through the crowd surrounding them, the way she didn’t have to force a conversation or pretend to be entertained. She thought she’d have said yes if he proposed right then.
Robb was sweet, and caring, he wrote her letters like it was still the nineties and she read them over and over tracing the words like it’d make them come alive. She smiled to herself as others looked at them as they started to notice, tried to contain her excitement and pretend she wasn’t head over heels. Robb was attractive, and not just in appearance, he drew people to him, women most of all and Jeyne was as aware of it as one would of a needle constantly nipping at their skin. He was also, seemingly unaware of that effect, of the stares that followed him, of the desire he awakened. He only had eyes for her, or so she thought.
It was an easy mistake to make, she would ponder later, every date had been a wonder, every moment, even the discussions, so bright against the pale and bleak world she was used to living in. Robb was a bright flame and she was drawn to him ever since they’d met, not quite believing he saw her too back then.
As time passed though, the prickling worry she felt started to grow too, she could never fully shake the notion that Robb was keeping something from her. Something that’d keep him up at night, something—which she would later force herself to say it like it was—someone who he returned to in thought if nothing else every single time he’d stare at nothing with a lost look in his eyes.
She remembered the signs, clear as day, which she, lost as she was in the fantasy of him and their marriage, ignored. The fake, polite smiles to her family, the reluctance in sitting in with her and his mother while they discussed the details, the muffled sounds of his cries on the pillow, the sleepless nights…
The list grew and grew endlessly. It seemed as though as the days went by she found a new sign she missed, a new conversation that she hadn’t paid enough attention to. She wondered if she had even wanted to know or if she blinded herself to the truth hoping with every fiber of her being that it was not so.
In the end, it took very little to ruin everything she’d built, the perfect dream she pretended to be living in fell apart so very quickly. All it took was a word, one name, and it all came tumbling down around her, leaving her single, with a broken heart and an anger she couldn’t find it in herself to let go of.
Robb Stark had pretended to be a dream come true, fooled her into a loveless engagement. Beautiful, noble, kind Robb Stark, seemed perfectly happy leading her into a life and a marriage that would have taken everything from her, a lie that would sooner or later leave her empty and bitter. And the worst of all was that she would have walked happily into it were it not for Jon Snow.
Jon Snow… a man she did not know, a name she had only briefly heard before. He had been present during all of her relationship, she came to find, though only in spirit—in Robb’s memories. And that was what doomed them, memories. Jon didn’t have to walk through a door and declare his love for his cousin; he didn’t have to dress up and prepare a romantic night like Jeyne had, countless times, he didn’t have to be there at all, all it took was his name, and Jeyne was left to wonder if Arya had saved or doomed her when she said it.
It had been during a family dinner, at the Starks, and they were all around the table. A table which she had come to feel very comfortable sitting at. Arya laughed at a text on her phone as Catelyn and Jeyne discussed more wedding details, such as the dance. Robb seemed reluctant to join the conversation, as he often did. This time though it was almost like she could feel the difference in the air, he wasn’t just unwilling to join, it was as if he wanted to run.
“Have you settled on the song?” Catelyn asked innocently over a bite of lasagna she had made herself. (Jeyne had never been fond of cooking).
“Not yet,” Jeyne answered, “Robb, sweetheart, have you got any suggestions?”
Robb took more than a polite second of silence to answer, Jeyne turned her eyes to him, expectant.
“I don’t—I think you should pick it,” He said finally, looking down at his plate, and adding considerably lower, “don’t really care about dancing.”
Arya laughed. “Since when?”
Robb frowned at her. “Since always.”
“You and Jon were always dancing.” She said and Sansa giggled.
Jeyne watched as Robb’s face fell, mouth curling down and shoulders tensing at the name.
“Yeah. I remember teaching you two.” Sansa added, unaware of it, “You were awful, by the way.”
“Really, I thought he’d be the groomsman and you’d do those ridiculous dance things like in those videos on youtube.” Arya continued.
For a moment, Jeyne thought she was just imagining the sudden tense air on the room but a look to Catelyn on her side convinced her that she was not. For some reason, talking about Jon was a grave error in that house.
Jeyne had never met the man, only in name and photographs. Whatever Robb talked of him was towards acquaintances, never directly to her. She had never thought to ask why she had never been introduced to Robb’s cousin—a cousin she had come to know by those same acquaintances had been Robb’s best friend growing up—not until she saw the look on Catelyn’s face and the subtle but very present change of mood. Robb’s usual wedding withdrawn turned harder, colder, more distant, simply at the mention of Jon.
She managed to keep to herself for the rest of the night, pushed whatever she thought she had uncovered to the back of her mind. It was not true, it could not be. But Robb’s mood had turned sourer on the ride home, the look on his face—as though on the edge of crying—was a cold reminder she had stumbled onto something that night, and could not go back.
She couldn’t remember how the discussion started, what words had left her mouth that made Robb’s eyes water. She had the faintest idea that it might have been “What happened between you and your cousin?” but she could not be sure.
She wouldn’t be sure of anything concerning Robb ever again.
“We had a fight.” Robb said. And Jeyne… Jeyne would’ve left it at that, wanted to, even, but the way Robb said it—with no emotion at all, like he had been rehearsing the answer all the way home stunned her. So she pushed him further.
“What about?”
“We just had a fight.” Robb insisted on what she knew was a lie and that had stung. But as the child that can’t help but pull at a falling teeth she kept going, kept pushing until Robb’s eyes weren’t watering as much as running free.
“Is it him?” She asked, her voice cold, a weight on her chest keeping her from breathing. She looked at the furniture on their apartment, every piece she had bought herself, dragging him along and demanding opinions. “Has it been him, all this time? Do you…” She had to swallow around the lump in her throat to make her voice work, “do you love him Robb? Do you still want him?”
He never answered her. It still made her mad. So mad she wanted to throw everything she could reach in the room on him. “God—Look at you… you can’t even admit it, can you?”
“All this time…” She thought about the anniversaries, the gifts, the proposal, just like she’d always wanted. She thought of his mother, the excitement on her voice when they’d announced the wedding, she thought about the nights she spent lying on his side, the times when they were still a new couple and she’d cuddle next to him with a smile, telling herself he would grow more comfortable showing affection in public soon—that he was not as cold and distant as she felt him. Jeyne’s mother had always said she was such a romantic. She never thought she would resent her own sense of wonder like she did then.
She thought about the fights, when she’d run back to him crying and apologizing, saying how she couldn’t see herself without him… and he’d take her back. She always thought it meant he felt the same.
Robb had been playing a part all the time they were dating, she could see it then, and she’d fallen right down into the trap, worse even, she had willingly let herself walk into it. Their marriage would be a prison for them both, and she had almost thrown the key away—why?
She felt tears wetting her cheeks, falling rapidly to the floor, she hated crying in front of him. It made it so much sense. The way they seemed to get more distant the closer the wedding date got—the more she tried to breach the distance the more it seemed to grow. She should’ve know… all this time… she should’ve known.
As she watched the life she had carefully planned for years come undone, Jeyne had done the only thing she could think of. She took the ring he gave her off her finger ignoring the paler tone of her skin where it had stood and dropped it to the floor.
“You need help, Robb Stark.” She said, her voice as cold and lifeless as she felt.
She wouldn’t be back to the apartment ever again, she would not receive his calls or answer his texts for weeks. She refused to tell her mother, all she did was cry and regret every wasted second she had invested on Robb—feeling so special for his affections, when in truth he had most likely chosen her because she was there, because she was, like her mother always said, easy to play with. Robb had seen that and he’d used it against her, every step of the way.
She remembered a friend’s warning, on the first days of their relationship. “Be careful, alright? He just seems too… perfect. There’s something off about him.” She had laughed then, now she saw the truth. Robb Stark was not the man of her dreams, he was just some guy, some sad, lovesick, messed up guy.
Her mistake had been seeing that too late, falling for the image he sold of himself—the image she’d cultivated over the years. She let herself be fooled into thinking marrying Robb would lead to the perfect life, so much that she almost ruined herself in the process.
What was left for her to do but rage? To watch his letters burn, delete all the texts and pictures, blame it all on him and leave it for him to come up with the explanations, to cancel the wedding and tell everyone it was on him. Her life was in pieces, but so was his, and of the two, at least she hadn’t been the one lying to herself.
That was what she told herself. Adding fuel to the fire burning inside, hoping it’d kept her from falling apart with the sorrow she felt. The sorrow of a future stolen from her, a future that she came to realize was just a lie built on top of more lies.
She thought that she would never feel better. That her stupidity and Robb’s lies would follow her forever, that thoughts of Robb Stark and Jon Snow would keep her awake at night for years on end. It took her a long time to realize she had been saved in time.
It took even longer for her to see where she had gone wrong.
She would never be Robb Stark’s wife. She would never get to live the fairytale she had conjured for them. She would never be any of the things she thought she had to be. That used to make her sad. Then she remembered she was already Jeyne Westerling, and that meant more than anything any man could give her, no matter how perfect he might seem.