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Sibella sat at the vanity putting rouge on her cheeks, when there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” she called to her visitor, not bothering to glance back at the door. She caught a glimpse of Monty in the mirror. “Don’t try to talk me out of it, it’s not going to work.”
“That’s not why I came,” said Monty, closing the door.
Sibella turned around on the stool. “Why have you come then?”
Monty was wearing a nice three piece suit; well tailored and more expensive looking than anything she had ever seen him wear. His salary from the bank had apparently been treating him well. “You’re getting married. Even though I don’t like it, I would never miss it.”
“I mean, why have you come here?”
“I’ve brought you a gift,” he said, holding a box out to her. It was considerably sized, so it wasn’t jewellery, and it was wrapped with a pink ribbon.
Sibella stood to receive it. “Do you want me to open it now?”
Monty smiled. “I think you should, unless you feel like being questioned by Lionel.”
Wondering what he meant, Sibella pulled the pink ribbon out of its bow, and lifted the lid off of the box as Monty held it. Inside was a corset; peach coloured silk with a subtle brocade, around the edges was lace. Sibella let out a quiet gasp. “Oh, Monty.” She was speechless. It was one of the most beautiful garments she had ever seen. She lifted it out of the tissue paper. “It’s beautiful, thank you.” She brushed her fingertips over the fabric, admiring it. It had to have been expensive, but she supposed that his new job had allowed him to make such extravagant purchases. She looked up at him. “Will you put it on me?”
Monty’s eyes widened a little. He hadn’t expected her to ask that. Sibella went to stand in front of the full length mirror in the opposite corner of the room. Monty put the box on a chair and moved to stand behind her. In silence he swept the curls that were loose from her hairstyle over her shoulder, and began to undo the line of buttons down the back of her dress. She watched him through the mirror. He pushed the bodice off her shoulders, and Sibella let the sleeves fall off of her arms.
Monty pressed a kiss to the top of her shoulder, and then to the side of her neck. They weren’t sensual, only intimate in a chaste way. He then began to unlace the corset she was wearing. It was white, unlike her wedding dress which was a pale pink; so light that it could be mistaken for white from afar. He reached around her and unhooked it, tossing it to the chair where he had put the box.
He could see the outline of her breasts in the almost-see-through slip. Monty’s eyes met Sibella’s in the mirror, and she handed him the corset. He reached around her again, hooking it in the front. He pulled the laces snug, only as tight as was comfortable, then tied them in a bow. He smoothed the fabric over her waist, hands only lingering for a second before he was doing the buttons up again.
Monty embraced her from behind, his arms around her waist. Sibella put her hands on top of his. “You’re a beautiful bride, Sibella,” said Monty. His voice was soft, and his gaze was locked on the breathtaking image of her in the mirror. Her in a wedding dress. Her as a bride.
“This could have been us, you know,” she said, tilting her head as she looked at their reflection.
“It still can,” he said, looking at the real Sibella. “It’s not too late to call it off.”
She sighed, shaking her head. “It was too late the moment I said yes.”
He didn’t know what he had expected her to say. It hurt, the thought of losing her. It was like having a piece of his heart ripped out of his chest. And to be losing her to a man like Lionel was salt in the would. Monty knew that he wouldn’t love her like she deserved to be loved. The thought of them in bed together, like he knew they would be tonight on their wedding night, made him sick to his stomach. Lionel’s arms around her, his lips on her, her lips on his. He held Sibella tighter. “He doesn’t deserve you.”
She turned around to face him. “And you do?”
Monty sighed. “No.”
Sibella kissed him, grasping his face with both hands. He kissed her back, not knowing if this was the last time he would ever kiss her again. She broke away with a shaky breath. “I love you,” she whispered.
He took both of her hands in his. “Then run away with me.”
She considered it for a moment, imagining what it would be like. The priest would ask if she would take Lionel as her husband, and she would say no, she couldn't, she was in love with someone else. Or Monty would stand up when the priest asked if anyone objected to the marriage, and he would profess his love to her in front of everyone. Then the two of them would run out of the church hand in hand, hijack the carriage that was waiting to take Lionel and Sibella on their honeymoon, and elope in Paris. But that was just a fantasy. Something that would never, and could never, happen.
Sibella sniffed, tears starting to prick at her eyes. “You know I can’t.”
Monty got down on one knee, staring up at Sibella. She was looking at him with a mixture of horror, astoundment, and heartache. He brought each of her hands to his lips and kissed them. “Sibella Hallward,” he began. Sibella’s face scrunched up as she tried not to cry. “I love you. I love you more than anything. I love you more than anyone else can.”
“Stop it,” scolded Sibella, her voice breaking. She used a finger to carefully wipe the tears from her eyes. “You’re going to make me ruin my makeup.”
“You made a mistake. I know you don’t want to marry him.” Sibella’s lips were pressed into a tight line. He was right. “I have a good job now, I’m fifth in line to become Earl, we’ll be happy.” He squeezed her hands. “Tell Lionel you won’t marry him.”
Sibella squeezed her eyes shut, her lips trembling. She shook her head. “No.”
She couldn’t admit she was wrong. It was one of her worst flaws, her stubbornness, one that might ruin her life. It was too late now, she reminded herself. Everything had been paid for, an announcement had been made in the paper, and the guests were filing into the chapel as she stood in this room with Monty. She couldn't bear the scandal of a broken engagement. Her image couldn’t afford it. That was the second of her worst flaws, vanity. A deep pit of regret was forming in her stomach. She shouldn’t feel like this on her wedding day. This was supposed to be the best day of her life, and instead it was one of the worst. The man at the end of the aisle, the man who she was vowing to spend the rest of her life with, was not the man that she loved. The man that she loved was on his knees begging her to run away with him. And she couldn’t say yes.
Monty looked away, dropping her hands and rising to his feet. He was starting to tear up, and he couldn’t look at Sibella. “I never thought it would end up this way.”
Sibella had always imagined herself marrying Monty. Every time she pictured what her wedding would be like, it was always Monty. Monty crying tears of joy when he saw her in her wedding dress for the first time. Monty putting the ring on her finger. Monty saying ‘I do’. She never intended to marry anyone but him, and yet here she was, about to become Mrs. Holland. She let herself be seduced by a reasonably handsome face and a shiny motorcar, and now she was left with nothing but regret. It was never supposed to be like this.
“Me neither.”
“I feel like I’m losing you forever.”
Sibella rolled her eyes. “I’m getting married, Monty, not dying.”
He set his jaw. “You might be dead inside after a honeymoon with Lionel.”
She slapped him across the face. Monty winced. When he looked back at her she was breathing heavily, staring at him with wide eyes, her jaw tight. And then she broke down, letting out a heavy sob, crumpling into herself. He embraced her in an instant, never wanting to let her go. Sibella cried into his chest, and Monty held her, trying not to cry himself. He let go, slowly, when she stopped; wiping away what tears were left on her face, and going to check her makeup in the mirror. After she saw that it was still mostly intact, she turned back to Monty.
“Please don’t look at me during the ceremony,” he said. “I’ll die if you look at me.” He wiped a tear from his cheek.
Sibella nodded, taking a deep breath. “You should go.”
Monty nodded back. He stood still for a moment, waiting for something, and then Sibella stepped towards him. He took a step towards her. They both leaned in, lips inches from each other, and stopped. Sibella’s arms were draped around his neck, his were wrapped around her waist. They savoured this moment, wanting to live in the build up, knowing this kiss was goodbye. He could hear her breathing, he could even hear her heart beating. It was Sibella who finally closed the distance, kissing Monty more desperately than she ever had before. It took everything in her not to start crying again, and she tried to make peace with her decision, not knowing if it was even the right one. She hugged him tightly when the kiss broke. This was it.
She let go, sniffing. “Goodbye, Monty.”
He gave her a sad smile. “Congratulations.”