Blinded by Love

Blinded by Love

        The tears were beginning to flow freely as she finally answered, struggling to keep from sobbing out loud, "I put a spell on you, Pacey. I put a spell on you to make you love me again, and in that spell, I screwed up and said that you should use your eyes only to look at me. I don't know why it took so long to backfire, but it did. I'm the reason you couldn't see anything but me."
        He didn't want to believe her. Every single shread of his logic cried out against it and against all possibility that magic might actually be real, but what else could explain such a strange and sudden lose of sight? What else could explain why Andie had completely captured his heart and soul, pushing out every single other thought for such a long period of time? What else could explain why he would not have questioned her sudden proclaimation of love on that night he'd went to her apartment? What else could have made him so easily forgive her for causing him to think she was dying? He had not cared about anything else, not even his restaurant, until he had suddenly became so terrifyingly close to being completely blind?
        "Please," she whispered, "say something . . . " Though she feared the words of hatred that would undoubtedly next spill forth from his lips, she could not bare the unbreaking silence any longer. The quiet seemed to roar through her every vessel until she wanted to scream and never stop. When he still did not speak, she again broke the silence. "You hate me, don't you?" she asked him, her words no louder than a soft whisper.
        His eyes were full of swimming emotions that ranged from disbelief to out-right anger. "I could never hate you, Andie," he whispered softly in return, his voice breaking with emotion, "but I don't know if I can trust you."
        "Of course you can trust me! I'll never do it again, I swear!"
        His head shook in a slow and sad movement. "I wish it were that easy to believe you, Andie, but it's not. You put a spell on me, McPhee. A spell that chained my free will, that forced me to love you . . . " He looked away from her as he paused before continuing, " . . . even more than I already did."
        "What do you mean?" she asked. When he again did not answer, she persisted, "Are you saying you still loved me?"
        He nodded once, even more slowly than he had a couple of minutes before, but he still would not look at her as silent tears ran down his cheeks. "I never stopped before, and I might not ever be able to."
        "Pacey," she said, reaching out to grab his hand with one of hers, "we can make this work!"
        His hand jerked away from her touch. "No, McPhee," he disagreed with another shake of his head. "I can't be with some one that I don't know if I can trust."
        "But, Pacey, you can," she started to protest.
        "Don't tell me I can trust you, not after what you've done to me, Andie. Maybe one day I can, and if that day ever comes, I'll look you up."
        Her head hung, and her shoulders sagged. She couldn't blame him. As always, this was all her fault. She should never have woven the spell over him. "I'll be waiting," she whispered softly, "for as long as I can should you ever change your mind." She stood slowly, her heart beating madly within her chest in hopes that he might yet stop her, but he lay there in icy refusal to even so much as look at her. "Finish the potion," she said, putting it on his dresser and quickly gathering the rest of her supplies as swiftly as she could, "and your sight will be completely restored."
        In silence, she walked to the door. She tossed a pleading glance back at him. "Pacey?" she nearly whimpered out his name, but still he refused to look at her. She closed her eyes against the unbearable pain that swelled within her heart before forcing herself to turn back around and walk out. As the door shut, he finally looked back toward where she had last stood before leaving the room. His fingers reached out for her, but he could not allow himself to call back out to her. Tears of miserable, breaking hearts ran unchecked down both their faces.

Epilogue


        Nearly a year had crawled by, and yet neither had spoken even so much as one word to the other. Both had been completely miserable since that fateful night in the hospital. Both their hearts had remained heavy throughout the year, and both lost souls were filled with misery and loss.
        A hand picked up a picture, and a soft sigh emitted from pink lips as teary blue eyes gazed forlornly down at the photograph. They had both been so happy then, but that was a time that would never come again. She had ruined everything, and now he wanted nothing to do with her. It had been a year ago today that she had set the spell into motion and almost as long since she had last seen him. She should be trying to piece together the shattered, fragile remnants of her life, but all she could think of was him. How many times did she think of him every hour? How many times did his handsome face and charming eyes haunt her very soul both day and night? How many times throughout every set of twenty-four hours did she pick up this picture and think of what could have been if only she had not been such a stupid bitch? The answer to all the questions were the same: countless.
        The door bell rang suddenly, shattering Andie's thoughts, and her head snapped up. "Who is it?" she called, wild eyes zeroing in on the door. She still didn't feel up to dealing with company. Silence reigned for a long moment before she demanded again, "Who is it?"
        Finally, the answer came in a meek, soft voice. "It's me."
        Andie's eyes grew instantly wide, and her heart hammered so loudly that it seemed as if it might very well burst from her ribcage at any second. "P-P-Pacey?!" she stammered out in surprise.
        "Yeah, it's me." His words were slow, and she wondered if he was truly contemplating each word he spoke to her that much or if he was simply that nervous. "Andie, I know it's been a long time -- 361 days even --, and I know I have no right to come to you now, but later's better than never, right?"
        She sighed as a tremble ran through her body. Why had he come to her now, after all this time? What did he want? Could it be . . . Dare she think . . . Dare she hope that he might have reconsidered their fate? "What is it, Pacey?" she called, trying to make her tone cold but only letting her depression creep out into her voice. "What do you want?"
        "To talk to you. Please, Andie? All I'm asking is that you hear me out. Nothing more or less." She owed him that much at least, he couldn't help thinking.
        She was silent as she crossed the room and finally opened the door. His brown eyes sought her blue eyes, but she turned them away out of fear that they might give her away and let him see how terribly she was hurting. She stepped back into the room and turned away from him. As he followed and shut the door, she spoke softly, "I'm listening."
        He could read her so easily. She was scared. Although she had been the one to curse him and sleep around on him, he couldn't help the guilt that tore at his heart. She was scared that he was here to hurt her again. God, how many times had he hurt her? She had been truthful to him, and yet he had rewarded that truth not with love or understanding but with fury. How could he possibly blame her for being scared of him? "Andie," he spoke her name softly as he reached out to lay a gentle, reassuring hand on her shoulder.
        Although his simple touch sent sparks shooting through her, it also brought vivid memories of all their times together floating through her mind -- everything from their first kiss to the time when they had danced on Capeside's dock and from their first passionate night together to the last time she had touched him in the hospital. She forced herself to shrug away from his touch even as she fought to control the onslaught of emotions that accompanied the memories.
        He looked at her as she shrugged away from him, and pain flickered in his dark eyes. "I deserve that, I guess," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets, "but you know, McPhee, you're not exactly blameless here. I know I've hurt you, and I'm truly sorry for that. But what did you expect me to do when you slept with that guy? When you put a spell on me?"
        She whirled around to face him. Her eyes had suddenly transformed from being haunted with sorrow to blazing with fury. "How dare you!" she seethed as she began to close in on him, shaking with fury. "How dare you come into my home just to berate me for things I've already apologized for! What more do you want from me, Pacey!?! What more can I do other than what I've already done? I know I screwed up! I admit it! I've admitted it for a long time now, and I told you the truth! Maybe you didn't want to hear that truth, but I told you any way because I trusted and loved you and knew you deserved to know!"
        "Oh God," Pacey suddenly whispered, and she noticed for the first time that his face had paled considerably. "I don't want to do this," he said, still shaking his head. "I don't want to fight with you again, Andie. Maybe I shouldn't have come here," he continued, turning and heading back toward the door. "Maybe it is too late."
        She watched him, her surprise etched plainly on her face. "Too late for what?"
        "It doesn't matter," he said, "not if all we're going to do is fight. I won't fight you again, Andie. I won't. I'm sick of fighting."
        "Pacey, you're starting to babble," she said gently, "but for what it's worth, I don't want to fight either."
        He dared a glance back at her from over his shoulder. "Then why did you pounce on me?"
        "I was defending myself. I know I screwed up. There's no words to tell you how sorry I am for both of those times, but there's also nothing more I can do now than to apologize and to swear I would never do it again if I were given another chance and to telu thu that out of everything that's ever gone wrong in my life, including Tim dying, that the one thing -- the one thing that I regret more than everything else is losing you." While she had been talking, she had also been trembling terribly, and as she finished, she turned away from him again, tears running down both her cheeks as her body shook.
        As he had watched her, tears had also filled his eyes. He knew how much Tim's loss had hurt her, and he knew that her life had been full of tragedy. The only thing that surprised him was that he meant more to her than any of it. "Oh, Andie," he breathed softly, struggling to keep his voice from shaking, as he crossed over the floor to stand behind her. He reached out and again laid a gentle hand on her shoulder; this time, she did not pull away. He slowly turned her around and lifted her chin with his index finger, gently forcing her to look at him. "You'rt got going to lose me, McPhee. Never again."
        Confusion flickered in her tear-filled eyes. "But I thought you hated me?"
        "Oh, Andie," he whispered softly, "I could never hate you."
        "But, in the hospital, you said . . . "
        "Even in the hospital, I told you I could never hate you. I just didn't think I could be with some one that I couldn't trust. I still can't, but," his fingertips softly traced her beautiful face as he continued, speaking softly, "I'm willing to trust you again, Andie. I know you've hurt me and let me down twice, but I can't help believing in the woman I love. Don't get me wrong. I've tried every trick in the book to get you out of my system. I've tried laying everything I could, but nothing and no one can get you out of my system. I love you, McPhee. I always have, and I always will. I can't explain it. Maybe I should hate you, but I can't. Maybe I shouldn't trust you again, but I can't help myself. I've been blinded, Andie . . ."
        "But the spell's over," she managed to speak again at last. "It's been over ever since you drank the last of that potion. You did finish it, didn't you?"
        "I did," he told her, "but that's got nothing to do with this. I've been blinded all right, Andie, but it's not by a spell. It's by love. I guess what I'm trying to say, Andie, is that if you will have me, I'm still yours. Not through a spell or a trick. Not because I feel sorry for you or myself. But because I love you. I love you, Andie, and I want to be with you, and I want us to work out right this time."
        "Oh, Pacey," she breathed, her eyes sparkling with joyful tears. "Do you mean it?"
        "I've never meant anything more in my entire life, Andie, and that's the simple and complete truth from me to you and with nothing screwing either of us over this time."
        "Oh, Pacey," she breathed joyously. She leaned up against him and brushed her lips gently over his. "I love you," she whispered, gazing lovingly up into his eyes, before kissing him again.
        They continued to kiss increasingly passionately as they came closer into one another's warm embraces. One hand circher her waist and pulled her close to him as his other hand cupped and stroked her smooth cheek. Her hands slid upwards, passing over his broad shoulders, until they finally embedded themselves into his thick curls. Their tongues slipped into one another's mouths, quarreling seductively. As their lips found deeper pleasures than ever before, their hearts soared to a new and higher level of undying love.

The End