As all the weight of her slight frame settled into the glass slipper and she lifted her other foot, ready to place it gently and easily into the other slipper, spotless, shimmering, transparent...pure, she was suddenly falling to the floor. Glass shattered and scattered in all directions. As she fell to one side her hands landed in the shards littering the wood floor. He watched her fall, it seemed, in slow motion. Running to her side, he reached for her shoulders, "Are you alright?" A stupid question he thought. Her hands and foot were clearly going to need stitches. Blood was everywhere, smeared all around her. Her ivory gown was like a dressing for her wounds, soaking up the dark red liquid. Her head was bent and her whole body shaking, probably in shock he thought as he reached for her chin. She grabbed his outstretched hand and looked at him, a wide grin on her face. He stared into her eyes, the color of deep, dark pools he always longed to swim in. And she continued to shake with laughter. "Hold still. We're going to have to get you to a hospital." Why was she laughing?
"I'm okay," she took a deep breath and smiled at him. He looked at her, uncertain. "I mean, clearly I'm not okay," and she winced as she lifted her hands for the air quotes, "but I'm okay, in here." Blood began to spread across the breast of her gown as she placed her hand over her heart.
"I don't understand," he was waiting for the tears and realization of her injuries to sink in. She reached for his face and he did not back away. She seemed to realize for the first time how bloody she was. "I'm sorry," and she quickly withdrew her hand.
"It's okay," he smiled. "We need to get you to a hospital." And he began to rise from his knees to head toward the phone, but she grabbed for him, crying out in pain, but refusing to let go. "I'm right here, I'm right here," he soothed, rubbing her shoulders.
"I need to explain," she said. He stopped and waited. He knew her, how stubborn she was. There was no point arguing. The sooner she let it out, the sooner he could call an ambulance. He had no idea how badly her foot was injured...
"I'm free."
He waited. She breathed and smiled.
"I'm free!" she exclaimed more loudly, so he was forced to lean back on the balls of feet.
"I still don't understand."
She waited and it looked like she was trying to find words.
"Cinderella was never meant to wear glass slippers. There's no such thing as the fairy tale." Again she looked at him and smiled. "There's just you and me and the imperfection is the perfection," she reached for the unbroken slipper, now coated with blood along the bottom and spattered across the top, "don't you see?" she asked holding the slipper out to him.
"I don't," he admitted, "but we have the rest of our lives for you to explain it to me and you need to get to a hospital. I can't believe you're not in agony yet."
She sighed and seemed to release something. Then she looked at him with tears in her eyes. "It is starting to hurt," she whispered.
"I know," he brushed her cheek and stood.
She watched him run quickly to the phone in his black tuxedo. He had probably cut his knees up, she worried. But he would be okay. And so would she. And she did have the rest of their lives. Happily and imperfectly ever after, she smiled :-)