The red ribbon

As long as Robert James could remember, he loved Chloe Winters. It wasn’t hard to see why. Her raven black hair contrasted with her ivory skin. She also had a set of ladylike manners to go with her bone china complexion.

Of course, what attracted him most was the red ribbon she always wore around her neck. He had known her since they were both children, and he had always been intrigued by it. He asked her several times why she wore it. Her only response was an enigmatic feminine smile.

Year after year, she wore a red ribbon around her neck every single day. He longed to untie the ribbon, but he never did. As they began growing up, she began blossoming into womanhood, and he no longer had a monopoly on her affections.

Suddenly, she was surrounded by beauxes. He found himself competing for her affections. That precluded him from pressing her about the issue of the red ribbon.

The period of courtship caused him many sleepless nights. She tormented him with her smiles and her vague statements. Despite knowing her most of his life, he found her as enigmatic as the Sphinx. At last, he decided to step out into the void, and propose to her. He waited until the Christmas season. They were on a sleigh ride, the countryside blanketed in white. He remained quiet for most of the ride, giving her sidelong glances.

She was wearing a greatcoat with a fur-trimmed hood. A woolen scarf hid the red ribbon, and her hands were protected by a fur muff. Her cheeks were rosy with the cold. With the exception of an occasional comment by her, the only sound was the coachman urging his horses on.

Robert kept fingering the ring he had bought. At last, he looked at her, and asked, “Would you be willing to make me a very happy man for Christmas?”

She looked at him coyly, one of her enigmatic smiles twisting her ruby lips. “What are you asking for, darling?”

He pulled out the ring, and went down on one knee. He held it up, the winter light glinting off the diamond. “Would you marry me?”

Her mouth curled into an O of wonder, and her hands crept out of her muff. Her right hand rose to cover her mouth. He felt a mounting excitement, because he saw the yes in her eyes. He felt her trembling on the cusp of acceptance.

Suddenly, her eyebrows dew together, and she frowned. He felt himself plummeting into despair. Her right hand went to her throat in an unmistakable signal. The red ribbon was about to come between them. She took his hands in hers. “Dear heart, I must know this. Is this about me, or my red ribbon?”

He was thrown into a panic for a minute. Was it truly love, or was it about the red ribbon? He did a bit of soul searching for a minute. Finally, he decided that it was love. He looked her straight in the eye, and said, “It’s for love, dearest.”

Her face lit up like an electric light bulb. “Then yes! My answer is yes!”

They stood and embraced each other, laughing. The coachman felt a smile rising to his lips, but kept his face resolutely turned away. It would be a major breach of propriety to peer in on a couple at such an intimate moment.

Plans were immediately made for the wedding, so Robert didn’t have much time to think about the red ribbon. There were a thousand things that needed to be done, and not enough time to do them all.

Soon enough, the big day came. They were married with much pomp and ceremony, followed by a banquet and dancing. The day seemed magical to him, almost as if it weren’t real. Then Chloe brought him crashing down to earth.

They arrived at the honeymoon suite floating on a cloud of euphoria. He removed her veil, and pulled her close, for a lingering kiss. Then his eyes fell on the red ribbon. All the thoughts that had been pushed aside came bubbling up again. Suddenly, that was all he could think about.

She seemed to sense his thought process, because she pushed him away. “Dearest, I am worried my red ribbon is going to come between us.”

He tried bluffing his way through it. “Oh, dearest. Whatever could make you think that?”

Her eyes locked onto him in a way that precluded lying. “Dear heart, I must extract this promise from you. If you truly love me, don’t ask about my red ribbon. When the time is right, I will tell you. Promise me you won’t ask again.”

When he didn’t immediately respond, she took a step forward. “Promise me!”

He saw he had no real choice. It galled him to no end to be denied again. The problem was it was his wife’s price. At last, he said, “Alright, my darling. If that is what you want, you have my promise as a gentleman.”

She embraced him, and gave herself to him. Even after they had consummated their marriage, and they lay in each other’s arms, he couldn’t sleep. He lay there, thinking about the red ribbon.

The more he tried to put it out of his mind, the more it preyed on him. Finally, sleep came with its heavy hand. The red ribbon tormented his dreams, taunting him with its enigma.

As the weeks went by, they began settling into domestic life. She seemed content in her new role of wife. He tried stepping into the role of husband and provider, but the red ribbon continued to bother him. Every morning, it was there, teasing with its veil of mystery.

He made a point of not saying anything to his wife, though. He didn’t want to burden her with his problem. Of course, she seemed to sense that something was on his mind. She wouldn’t pry, though.

He sensed that he had to talk to somebody, or he would go mad. The question was whom would he talk to? His wife was out of the question.

She made him promise he wouldn’t ask her about it. How would she react to an admission it consumed his thoughts day and night? Of course, if he didn’t get it out at some point, it would begin poisoning their marriage.