Everything Is Eclipsed by the Shape of Destiny

Sunday was supposed to better than Saturday.

By Sunday, Emerson had thought that her heartache would have subsided, that she would be able to function normally, that was not the case. If anything, Sunday was worse than Saturday, it was almost as bad as Friday – the day of the wedding – had been.

Because on Sundays, Bill had always gone over to her house for breakfast, that was their tradition. It had been tradition since they had first become friends but that Sunday morning, he didn’t show up.

Of course, Emerson knew that he wasn’t going to show up, that he would be taking his breakfast elsewhere, but a part of her heart told her that he was going to come over.

So she got up early, she cooked, she waited.

She waited for him to walk in with a plate of cookies; she waited for him to tell her that the food smelled delicious and that he had brought a movie for them to watch later on.

She waited and waited and waited . . . she waited until the clock struck noon.

And then she lost it.

The plates that had graced the table’s surface were violently thrown against the wall where they broke upon contact. The cups, the pitcher, faced a similar fate. Once the table had been emptied she began to throw the pots and pans that were atop the stove, everything within eyesight was destroyed.

At the end of her rampage, Emerson slumped against the wall, bringing her knees up to her chest as she surveyed the damage done. The kitchen and dining room were in a state of disarray, food was splattered all throughout it and the broken pieces of dinnerware were scattered across the floor.

Her eyes welled with tears as she looked upon the mess she had created. She was going to have to clean it up, to put everything in its right place and she didn’t have the strength to do so, Emerson was exhausted.

Exhausted from the misery that hammered her at all hours of the day, exhausted from the thoughts that consumed her mind, exhausted from the love that refused to fade, it was all to much for her to endure.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” whispered Emerson softly. “He was supposed to love me. He was supposed to be with me for all of time.”

The tears that filled her eyes were unleashed, crashing over her lightly tan cheeks in a fury unlike any before. Her weeping turned into sobbing which led her body to shake violently from the intensity of her sobs.

Panic struck Emerson when she felt herself completely losing it, the emotions had consumed her, they had taken control over her being which meant that soon she would phase from human to jaguar.

Her first thought was to apparate to a forest, but just as she was beginning to mutter the necessary incantation, her body began the change. Brilliant black fur burst from deep within, covering every inch of her flesh as her body began to alter into the shape of the powerful jaguar.

Four seconds later, the transformation was complete.

In the middle of the dining room stood Emerson in her jaguar form, crouched low to the ground defensively, her paws were stretched in front of her, almost as if she was reaching for something.

Emerson growled softly when she saw the damage that she had done to the dining room furniture, the retro table and chairs that she had worked so hard to find were nothing more than firewood.

In vain, Emerson attempted to return to her human form. She struggled for an hour before completely giving up, her emotions were all over the place and unless she reined them in, she would be stuck a jaguar for the rest of her days.

It took two hours for Emerson to finally regain her composure and when she did, she was emotionally and physically drained. So instead of getting dressed, she lay on the floor motionless, it wasn’t like anyone was going to drop by.

But as Emerson lay there, a loud knock came from the door.

No move to answer the door was made, Emerson wasn’t in the mood to entertain anyone, solitude was what she craved most in the world so she lay there, staring at the door, wishing that whoever was standing on the other side would go away.

“Emerson Marie Figueroa, I know you’re in there!”

Emerson swore inwardly when she heard Avery’s voice. Avery was her best friend, she was also one of the most stubborn people on the face of the planet and if Avery wanted something, Avery was going to get it, no matter what.

“I'm going to give you exactly ten seconds to open the door and if the doors not open within those ten seconds, I'm going to find myself forced to break in, understood?”

“Why don’t you just leave me ALONE!” yelled Emerson from her place on the floor.

“Why don’t you get off your ass and open the damn door?!”

“Because I want to be by myself, now, be a dear and fuck off,” Emerson rolled over so she lay on her back.

“That’s it! I'm coming in.”

“Don’t you . . .”

Before Emerson could finish her statement, Avery had entered the apartment.

“What the hell are you doing on the floor?!” questioned Avery gruffly.

“Sulking,” answered Emerson.

“In the nude?” she shook her head. “Why on earth would you sulk in the nude?”

“Because this is my apartment and I can sulk however the fuck I want!”

Avery scoffed. “Yes, you can sulk however the fuck you want, but destroying your dining area and then laying in the nude amongst the ruins isn’t healthy!”

“I don’t care if it’s healthy or not,” Emerson sat up, shooting a glare at Avery. “What are you doing here anyway? I thought you had some important meetings this weekend at the Ministry.”

“Finished early so that I could keep you company,” answered Avery. “And from the looks of things, I should’ve finished even earlier, maybe then I would’ve helped you avoid this little episode.”

“Doubt it,” Emerson raised her gaze to meet Avery’s. “My breaking everything was bound to happen sooner or later and I can guarantee that your not being here was for the best.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because if you would’ve been here then I would’ve probably hurt you when I phased,” replied Emerson.

“Y-you phased in here?” Avery’s eyes widened. “I thought you only phased when you’re outside.”

“That’s what I normally do, but my emotions got the better of me.” Emerson laughed softly. “They’ll probably keep getting the better of me until my dying day.”

Avery shook her head. “That’s not true, you’ll get control of them soon enough.”

“Highly unlikely,” Emerson walked to the living room where her laundry basket was. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to control it . . .”

“You will, people get over heartbreak all the time,” reassured Avery.

“You still don’t get it do you?” Emerson rubbed her tired eyes. “This isn’t something that I can just get over. Bill isn’t just some guy that broke my heart, he’s my imprint. He’s literally my other half. He’s the man that the spirits bestowed upon me and . . . and I’ll never be able to get over him, I’ll go through life with a smile on my face, you’ll never see me sad in public but I'll always be crying inwardly, I’ll always be in mourning.”

“There are other men out there, there’s bound to be one that’ll help you pass the time.” Avery clapped her hands together. “In fact, I met a very nice Frenchman at the Ministry meetings; he’s single and a hopeless romantic that’s in the mood for love.”

“Good for him, but I don’t want romance with anyone else. I just want to focus on my career and learn more about my roots; that’s all I want.”

“As your friend, I can’t let you waste your life like that.”

“I won’t be wasting my life,” argued Emerson.

“Yes, you will, because life without love is no life at all.”

“It’s not going to be a life without love, I’ll always love Bill. I just won’t be with him.”

“That sort of love doesn’t count,” Avery tucked a strand of unruly hair behind her ear.

“Of course it does, unrequited love is very popular. It’s what all the great novels are made of.”

“None of the people in those novels ever end up happy,” whispered Avery.

“I know that.”

“Then why are you condemning yourself to misery?” Avery genuinely wanted to know.

Emerson sighed. “Everyone keeps asking me that damn question.”

“That’s because no one understands your reasoning.” Avery sat down beside Emerson. “I mean, how could you let him get married like that? If I were you, I would’ve gone ape shit at the wedding! I would’ve told him the truth about everything.”

“Then you’re stupid.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Emerson tilted her head to better look at Avery. “You can’t just tell someone that you’re meant to be, because that puts them in an awkward position where they feel forced to love you. They have to realize they love you on their own and if they never realize it, then you’re fucked and all you can do is, be happy for them.”

“I'm so glad I'm not a shifter. I wouldn’t have been able to handle that kind of pressure. It would’ve driven me insane.”

“Not many people can handle that pressure and I guess that that’s why shifters are so rare and why the shifters that imprint are even rarer.”

“Wait? What? Not every shifter imprints? But you and your brother both imprinted.”

“And that’s really rare; normally it’s just one shifter that gets to imprints.”

“That’s interesting,” stated Avery.

“Yeah,” mumbled Emerson.

“Emerson, I have a question.”

“What is it?”

“If you had to choose between not being a shifter and being a shifter that imprinted on Bill, which would you choose?”

“Being a shifter that imprints on Bill,” answered Emerson instantly.

“But it’s been nothing but pain.”

“That’s not true.” A dreamy expression swept across her face. “It might be painful right now, but imprinting is beautiful. I still remember the day that I first set eyes on Bill and the surge of love that swept throughout my being was otherworldly. It was so beautiful, so pure that I felt like weeping from joy and whenever I look into his eyes that’s the feeling that I get . . . that’s the feeling that I’ll always get.”