Ella

“He said, ‘I have found you!’ ‘And I have found you,’ said Cinderella.

And so Cinderella and the Prince were married, and they lived happily ever after…” I narrated to my wife, Ella, as I read aloud our infamous love story published on The Daily that day.

“I wonder if we over shared with the press, don’t you? I don’t think I ever cried as much as the story says I did,” Ella replied, cringing as she drank her second mug of chilled coffee, “It’s almost as if they deliberately want people to think I’m weak and a cry-baby.” “But we both know you aren’t either of those, El,” I said, trying to comfort her with a smile. “Well, at least they could’ve chosen a title that wasn’t the name my abusive stepsisters bullied me with. Thanks to this, now everyone knows me as Cinderella,” she scoffed. “El, you are the strongest and most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. You even surpass my seventy-year-old mother,” I said, taking her hand gently. “You really should’ve stopped at ‘ever known’, you know,” said El, trying hard not to break her ice-woman exterior and laugh. “Yeah, I know. It sounded much better in my head,” I promised. We broke into a hysterical laugh.

We left the royal family and surrendered our HRH titles soon after the wedding not out of obligation or persuasion, but at our own will. It had been six years since we got married and left the royal privileges. It turned out to be a better life than we expected, really. However, for a long time, we were bound to struggle to have a baby. We still hadn’t landed on a solution yet but it would usually bother us. Besides our wish to be parents, people asked too and we couldn’t explain.

Just as we chatted on about how radically both of our lives had changed, we heard a frantic knock at the front door along with the ringing doorbell. Ella stood up from her seat and paced off abruptly to answer the door at once. “Ana... Is that you?” I heard Ella answering the door, followed by a reply in a slightly familiar voice, “Guiltyyy!” Peals of laughter followed some high-pitched squeals which I hope were out of excitement and not horror.

El’s stepsisters came to visit us for the first time in six years! Anastasia seemed much better than before. I couldn’t notice any difference in Drizella apart from her unusual silence. “Sister, it is such great pleasure seeing you and his Royal High– oops, I mean your husband!” said Anastasia, gleefully with a hint of embarrassment in her tone. “That’s alright, don’t worry about it! Most people had a tad bit of trouble with that too, at the start,” I said with a smile on seeing her shift in the chair uncomfortably. “Well it’s great to see you both too!” said Ella. The conversation went on – from work to weather, husbands to random women’s gossip, from the reasons why they hadn’t visited us in six years to cold dessert recipes. I wouldn’t blame anyone because six years was indeed a long time. So I sat there politely, noticing how Drizella and I were the passive members in the conversation. She didn’t seem as thrilled as her sisters. She seemed to force a smile whenever her eyes met Ella’s or mine. Despite the smile, her eyes looked sad and ignorant.

“We came to tell you that Driz—” “My husband and I split last month. Three weeks before that, we lost our baby and he blamed that I induced the miscarriage intentionally. He was abusive and life-threatening throughout our marriage. I heard that he got married last week and became a father of two,” said Drizella, cutting off Ana mid-sentence. I was shocked to hear the news but it was harder to process how it all rolled out of her so effortlessly – as if she’d said it a million times before. “Oh my God, Drizella, I’m so sorry for your loss! That must’ve been so hard. How have you been holding up?” I said, after finding my voice. “Thank you. It was hard indeed,” she replied, “I’m still trying to find my ways of coping. The divorce wasn’t the worst thing. In fact, I’m glad that our toxic relationship ended. It was the lost chance of being a mother that shattered me to the core.” “We’ve been trying to have a baby for six years but in vain,” Ella announced. The mood in the room grew dark and gloomy after that. The conversation took a depressing turn as the sisters tried to console each other and share their grief. I started to feel a bit uncomfortable too but managed to keep my calm.

Drizella finally seemed to let her guard down. She didn’t try to blend in or ask for attention and consolation. Despite her history with Ella, she wasn’t afraid of being vulnerable yet strong. “People hate me. They always have. They spread rumors about our divorce and the baby’s death. They strip me off of my reputation, support my ex-husband’s false accusations against me, and shower me with hate and rape-threats to put the icing on the cake,” Driz confessed. As she vented out, her eyes never tried to avoid ours but looked directly into them. They stabbed like a knife. “I might be what they call me – a witch, but I know myself better than anyone else does. The world is so entertained and satisfied with the lies it’s fed with, that the truth actually bothers people at this point,” she added. By then she was the only one speaking and the rest of us simply gaped at her in silence.

“I don’t need to remind you of our childhood, do I, Ella?” Her eyes shifted to meet Ella’s and that made everyone but Drizella uncomfortable. “You don’t,” said Ella, quietly. “I hated you because everyone could see your beauty and good heart, the moment they saw you. I was the “ugliest and oldest stepsister”, torturing her innocent and pretty stepsister over jealousy and hatred. Ana just got influenced by her mother and elder sister. Had Ana not been from our family, she would’ve been the perfect sister to you. She already proved it by now, didn’t she?” This time her eyes shifted from Ella to Ana. No one besides Driz even dared to speak.

“Look, sister,” she said, looking back at Ella, “you deserved the ‘fairy godmother’, to go to the ball looking like Lady Diana, and marry the Prince. You did not deserve to be tortured by any of us and I apologize for all of that, okay? But you see, when you’re not attractive to the world, they don’t see you. Even if they do, they treat you like shi–” “That’s enough, Drizella!” Ella cut her off, all of a sudden. This was some major family melodrama stirring up and I surely had better things to do and better places to be, but that was my wife. There was no way I could chicken out of the scene without getting bashed later. So on second thought, I stayed.

“There was no fairy godmother,” Ella said. I have to admit I was quite confused. “It was all made-up!” She continued, her eyes still fixed on Drizella’s. “What the hell are you talking about?” Drizella asked, as confused as everyone but Ella was. “Well newsflash, big sister! Fairies don’t exist! The dress and those unreal shoes were stolen from a wedding boutique, for fuck’s sake,” Ella confessed. An awkward silence prevailed again as everyone else tried to process what they just heard. “Okay, WHAT?! You stole them?” Drizella exclaimed on behalf of everyone. Ella took a deep breath and let out a sigh, “Of course I didn’t! A dumb burglar dropped a bag on his way which happened to be through our garden. I didn’t know that when I found it but only much later when I heard about the burglary,” Ella explained. It was quite ironic how everyone found the truth so much more shocking than the ‘Fairy Godmother’s' theory.

Drizella was right, indeed. “The world is so entertained and satisfied with the lies it’s fed with, that the truth actually bothers people at this point.”

“The day after the Ball, I discovered that the dress and the shoes were stolen. I obviously couldn’t tell anyone because then I would be called out for being the dumb burglar that escaped. So…” she stared down, bit her lip, and made invisible circles on her lap with her finger, “I had to make up a story,” she mumbled.

I was utterly speechless and so were Ella’s sisters. This made me wonder how I never asked her about that part in the published article. It was strange yet convincing enough for me to never bring it up in all these years. But I was glad that she finally confessed. I might’ve been wrong about her being completely honest but I thought of cutting her some slack and simply appreciate her for telling us everything. I could notice her cheeks being slightly flushed in embarrassment.

“You could’ve told me,” I said, breaking the silence at last. Ella didn’t say anything and continued to remain silent. So I walked over to hug her from behind and kiss her, softly embracing her in my arms. I could feel a smile curving up on her lips. "I'm sorry, love," she whispered in my ear. "I'm sorry. I know it wasn't the right thing to do. I wish I could've confessed earlier. I'm a thief and a liar," she said aloud to everyone, breaking our hug. "But are you, Ella? Are you a thief?" Asked Drizella, stepping forward. "I don't know. I feel like one. I lied to the whole world and stole my way into a made-up fairytale," said Ella. 

"Stop loathing yourself now, Ella. It's too late for that and your lie belongs to the past," said Ana, after finally finding her voice, "Driz, I'm sorry you felt that way about everything. You were my sister, still are, and will always be. I love you despite what people may think of you. It has been years since all of that happened. Why don't we leave it all behind and appreciate that we're all here together right now?"

The atmosphere in the room started to clear up gradually. We looked at each other and agreed to Ana's words with soft smiles. "You're right, Ana. I feel as if a huge mountain has been lifted off of my head. You guys are my family and I'm so sorry I lied. I'm no fairytale princess, just an ordinary human like everyone else. I make mistakes too," said Ella, leaning towards me.  

"Hey, how do you guys feel about adopting kids?" Drizella popped a huge question out of the blue, but she was looking straight at us (me and Ella). Ella and I exchanged looks for a while. "Well, I feel great about it. What about you, love?" I asked Ella. 

She nodded, "I think so too." 

"Great. So what do you say? Shall we meet them together?" 

"Sure," Ella and I said together and we broke into a group hug. I realized that I forgot how underrated group hugs were. There was a sudden uplift in everyone's mood - the kind that people usually have on New Year's Eve. In the end, the sisters bid farewell on a good note. I also got to eat a leftover slice of pizza so I was definitely good. Bottom line - Pizza always tastes better with marinara sauce and mozzarella.