A Loveless Marriage

Chapter 40: William

It was a foolish, selfish thing to do but I couldn't help myself. I'd first held to comfort her, drawing my arms close around her as she buried her head in my chest. Mary had needed me. I had spent so long yearning for her, now she was in my arms and clinging to me. All those times she had held me at arms length and now she needed me to hold her. I savoured the moment, until her tears abated and she looked up. There was a change in her face, from despair to courage; it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

So I'd kissed her.

With the tenderness of a lover, I'd wiped the tears away and tilted up her chin. Those lips I had venerated for so long were against mine. The salty smell of tears were still on her face, like the sea and sadness.  There was a sudden pressure on my chest as she pushed me away. I knew I had gone too far.

  "William! What an Earth do you think you are doing?" Mary said.

There was only one other time I had seen such anger on her face and that time it has been directed at Fred. It shook me, but I realised it was no time to hold back. I had to make my declaration once and for all.

  "You know how I feel about you," I said.

  "Yes," Mary said. "And I told you that I love you as a friend only. As a brother."

  "I couldn't stand seeing you so sad," I said.

  "So you thought seeing me angry would be better?"

I fell silent. I had let my impulses get the better of me and I was sorry for it. Mary was so upset, I felt like a cad. She had been weeping for her husband and I had tried to take advantage of her. Hurting Mary was the last thing I wanted and loving her was the thing I wanted most, I didn't need her to love me. If I was addicted to melodrama, I would have sunk to my knees and begged for her forgiveness, instead I shifted awkwardly. I felt a sickness inside, I had ruined everything between us.

  "Mary, I am sorry," I said.

  "No, I am sorry," she said. "I misjudged our friendship. I should not have asked you to help."

  "Don't say that Mary," I said. "I would do anything you asked, I would lay down my life for you."

  "I don't want you to!" Mary said. "I just needed your help with this because I thought you were someone I could trust."

  "You can trust me!"

  "You kissed me, William, and I am a married woman."

She was the most married woman I knew. Fred Wilkes could be the most irresponsible, villainous cad in all of England and yet she'd still stay faithful to him. However much he humiliated her, however much he dragged her down, Mary would not compromise herself. In any other circumstance, her loyalty would be something I admired. I knew I should throw myself at her feet and grovel, that I should forget about my love for her and remember her place in society, but that kiss had reminded me of how long I had wanted her. Declarations of love had never been my strong suit, I had always been too timid and too late. For the last few years I had been a ridiculous sight, trotting dolefully after a woman who overlooked my devotion to her. In vain, I struggled for the poetry to capture the moment. Instead, I had to go for simple honesty.

  "I love you, Mary," I said. "I love you and I want to marry you."

  "No, you don't," she said quietly. "You love the idea of me, not the person I really am."

  "Mary, that is nonsense!"

   "No it isn't," she said. "You only see the public me, you don't see the cracks underneath. Only Fred does and even he doesn't know it all. Believe me William, nothing would make you more miserable than marrying the real me."