The Unwanted Marriage: Dion and Faye’s Story (The Windsors)

I walk through a busy train station in Berlin, my steps leisurely while everyone around me seems in such a rush to get somewhere. This is what I desperately wanted, yet every experience in the last few weeks has felt entirely empty.

I haven’t stopped thinking about Dion for even a second, but I also can’t deny that it’s thrilling to make choices of my own. I’ve never had to buy a train ticket before, nor had I ever flown by myself. Being able to choose the places I visited and the hotels I stayed in fulfilled a deep need I never knew existed. Every choice I made and every dream I chased worked to heal a deep-rooted wound, giving me a type of confidence I’ve never felt before.

For the first time ever, I’m just Faye. Here, where no one knows me, I’m not a famous pianist, nor am I my father’s daughter, or Dion’s wife. I’m just a girl no one cares about, someone who can make mistakes and get lost without being photographed or ridiculed. For the first time in my life, I don’t feel like a puppet dancing to someone else’s tune. There are no rules to abide by, no forced piano practice, no rearranging my schedule for someone else.

It’s everything I thought I wanted, and it all falls flat without Dion. I sigh and pat my bag, the divorce papers he gave me always at the forefront of my mind. He disappeared after he told me he’d move out, and no one would tell me where he went — all they’d tell me was that I should do as he asked, and try living for myself for once.

If I hadn’t, would I always have wondered? Would a part of me always have been scared that Dion would never let me go, that he’d trap me the way my father always had? I’m ashamed to admit that it’s true.

Rationally, I always knew that he wasn’t like my father, but a small part of me still wondered if someday, there’d come a time I’d want to leave, and he wouldn’t let me. I’d tried not to, but I’d been scared that he’d want to control me for the rest of our lives, the way he did when he cut my father out of my life without even consulting me, or when he assigned me bodyguards without informing me. Knowing he did it because it was what’s best for me wasn’t enough to still my fears.

Someone bumps into me, and I gasp as my entire body swivels. I don’t even have a chance to snap at them before they brush past in their quest to get on a train that’s likely departing soon. I sigh as I take another step forward, only to pause when my eyes land on a small piano in the corner.

My heart soars, and I smile to myself as I walk toward it. Fifteen train stations, and I’d begun to think these only existed in movies. A shiver runs down my spine as I trace over the ivories that aren’t quite ivory. They’re worn from use, and no doubt, this little beauty won’t sound the way I’m used to, but somehow, this is a bigger dream come true than selling out a big venue.

I sit down, my touch reverent as I test out the sound. It needs tuning, but it’s not so bad. How long has it been since I last sat behind a piano? It’s been weeks, and I’ve missed it almost as much as I’ve missed Dion.

I begin to play absentmindedly, my eyes widening when I realize that I involuntarily chose a piece I’d composed with Dion’s help. It’s contemporary and far too modern compared to what I’d usually play, but it was ours.

I bite my lip as a deep regret surges within me. Weeks of chasing dreams, only to realize that the reality of us was better than my wildest fantasies. I never should’ve bought that cottage, and I never should’ve doubted Dion. I’d rather have lived with my fears for the rest of our lives than live a life he isn’t part of.

The last note rings, and I immediately delve into another piece, a classical one this time, Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata perfectly capturing my mood. Where do I begin to make this right? He told me he’s been running away from me for a reason, and I’m scared he didn’t just tell me that to push me away. I’m scared it’s true, and he’s better off without me.

The nightmares never stopped, and though he now smiles when he hears me play the piano, there are still moments when his gaze becomes unfocused, and painful memories steal him away from me. Am I enough to make that worth it? Can I heal him the way he healed me, if I have enough time? Do I deserve to be the woman standing by his side?

Weeks worth of soul searching, of trying to determine who I want to be, only to finally realize that all I want to be is his.

I’m snapped out of my thoughts by applause, and I blink in confusion when I notice the strangers that surround the piano. I rise from my seat and throw them a timid smile before rushing away, feeling empty inside.

Throughout our entire marriage, a small part of me wondered what my life would be like if I hadn’t married Dion. I’d known it was too late to rectify the past, but I’d wondered what it’d be like to control my own future.

Turns out, all of these experiences, all of these moments… they’re empty without someone to share them with.