Chapter 6 Took us long enough

Sitting side by side in the tight cab as the rode to the church, Roxanne was able to smell his scent.

He smelled of mint flavored after shave cream with a mix of the best Arabian fragrances. She knew, she had worked with a lot of big shot Arabian clients back at LexCorp to know how they scented.

Her heart froze. LexCorp.

Lavender. That was what she scented like. And just as ordinarily beautiful as the purple flower, she sat by his side, hands folded on top her lap as she stared outside the window absentmindedly.

Lancelot had a weird urge to talk to her. For the first time, a woman seemed aloof around him. Not at all interested in crawling into his bed at the first chance she got, taking a picture or even getting his number.

All she wanted, was a date to this wedding of her's. Which he was now curious about.

"Trying to make an ex jealous?" He asked. He thought of tapping her thigh to get her attention, but decided against it, the seat was hot enough for him already.

Roxanne turned to him and sighed.

"Story, story." She began.

Lancelot wanted to chuckle. After deciding against it, he simply nodded.

"So there is an ex?" He asked again, turning away from her briefly.

"Hell yes! And he's getting married to my twin sister."

When she saw his brow raised in query, she laughed and continued.

"Yeah, I'm talking some biblical Rachel and Leah type of shit." She continued.

Lancelot was amused by her case study, he was certain she had been told the story a long time ago and she had forgotten the sisters weren't twins.

"Rachel and Leah were not twins." He noted. Turning back to her and seeing the look on her face, Lancelot wished for a brief second, that he could find it in him to laugh.

Roxanne appeared thoughtful. She had as a matter of fact, thought they were twin sisters.

"Really?"

"Absolutely."

She continued to doubt him, he could see it in the way her eyes narrowed at him.

This act reminded him of his mother, Madeline Dankworth.

He could see her in the way Roxanne stared at him. Madeline's eyes were able to sniff lies from anyone, both man and wolf.

It was one of the things that kept their pack strong, feared, resourceful While his father stood as the physical strength and the pillar of the pack, his mother stood beside him as the brain box and power house of the pack.

Madeline Dankworth made the decisions, Edward Dankworth enforced them.

"Doesn't it hurt you? The betrayal?" Lancelot pushed on.

For a brief second, there was a flash of pain in her eyes. Once she blinked, it was gone and replaced by a smile so braid and genuine.

Lancelot wondered if he had imagined the flash in her eyes.

Either that, or she was a hell of a good actress. Either way, Lancelot was interested in her story.

Roxanne sighed. She had dwelt too much on the hurt that she felt nothing now. Though she feared that if she watched Jonah say the words she had been waiting to hear him say for more than half of her life, to his sister, she might not be able to take it.

It was for this sole reason, she had insisted on reaching the wedding a lot later.

She could survive the wedding party later at night, but certainly not the exchange of vows and rings.

"Does it hurt? Boy, I've cried so much my tear glands cried out one morning. I can't continue to do that. I mean, it's life. Ozone layer depletion is there to be worried about, I can't keep thinking about what I can't change."

Simple. Brave. Forgiving. Lancelot took note. Three things that he was light years away from being. He saw the way she quickly turned away from him.

'Hold her hand, she needs you' He heard Ziko cry. Slowly, he stretched his hand out to cover hers. Midair, he drew it back.

"This is happening too fast." He muttered.

"Did you say something?" She turned to him.

Opening his mouth to speak, the driver spoke instead.

"The cathedral madam."

"Took us long enough." Roxanne spoke.

Lancelot caught sight of the way her fists clenched themselves tightly on her thighs.

He looked over her once again. The veins on her arms, creases on her forehead, beads of sweat that gathered but wouldn't drop down.

She was hurt. No matter how hard she tried to hide it, she was torn inside.

And he knew, he knew because he was a victim of the world as well.