𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐆 | Arthur x Mary-Beth

4 | Matters in love

Realisation hits Mary-Beth like a freight train.

Her breath catches on the lump in her throat.

She fumbles to secure the sheets around her bare chest as she nods quickly, tears threatening at her eyes. Arthur retreats outside, closing the door as Mary-Beth deflates. She swipes at her eyes and stands to dress, willing herself to stay composed.

Oh god, I'm a fool.

Her mother's scoldings ring in her ears, silly girl. Her lip trembles as she slips into her skirt. How could she be so stupid? Of course this was how it would end. She sticks her feet in her boots and hurries outside. Arthur mounts his horse,m quickly without even glancing in Mary-Beth's direction. He offers his hand to help her onto the back of Artura and it's just that, a hand. Gingerly, Mary-Beth holds Arthur's waist, wincing at the touch, which, last night, would have felt electric.

They take the long way back to camp, avoiding town. Mary-Beth spends the ride biting her lip, straining not to let tears fall. She focuses on the scenery, trying to think of anything but this disaster, but of course it's difficult to even form a thought without last night returning to the front of her mind.

When at last they trot into horseshoe overlook and Artura comes to a stop, Mary-Beth slides from his back and immediately takes off away from Arthur without a word. Does she hear him sigh? Or was that Artura?

She hurries past her lean to, past Karen and Tilly and their warm greetings, down the slope and into the trees where, out of sight, she sinks to her knees. She stifles a sob with her hand but her tears flow thick and hot. God knows Mary-Beth has suffered greater loss in her unfortunate life, and loss like that strengthens the heart, but matters in love seem to strike where it hurts. She'd always been soft like that.

More than anything she felt confused. The type of confusion, like a knot with no end, that leaves you in a hopeless mess. What on earth happened?

She had given herself to him, trusted him implicitly with a piece of her soul last night, did that mean nothing to Arthur? It made her heart ache. She sat a heaving mess for a long time, thinking over and over, shaking with tears that seemed would never stop, how could they?

Until her blood started to boil and the hot tears turned to burning cheeks.

* * *

Karen watches Mary-Beth with concern as she scrubs a shirt aggressively against the wash board. "You alright?" She asks tentatively.

"Fine." Mary-Beth replies brusquely.

"Alright then. So you ain't gonna tell me what happened last night?"

Mary-Beth stops scrubbing with an exasperated sigh. "I told you there's nothing to tell. We got split up from Bill, hid out in a cabin, went to sleep, the end." Mary-Beth, for once in her life, decided to keep her mouth shut. She wasn't getting into it with Karen and there was no way she could risk it circulating camp. She continues scrubbing angrily.

"Hey! Stop with that, you'll put a hole through Arthur's shirt!" Karen admonishes.

"This is Arthur's?"

Karen nods and turns to hang up a pair of socks to dry. Mary-Beth grabs Arthur's shirt from the soapy water, holds it taut in an already worn spot near the chest and pulls it over the edge of the wash board, sawing it back and forth until the fabric gives way, leaving a gaping hole. Karen turns back to see Mary-Beth holding the shirt's hole on display. "Whoops. Sorry." She shrugs.

Karen scowls, shaking her head.

Mary-Beth had never been the angry or vengeful type but something stirred inside her today. Perhaps it was the years of men doing her wrong finally taking its toll. Maybe it was Arthur, did she trust him more than those other men? Did she love him more? Did his betrayal sting more? She couldn't tell, but either way she wouldn't go crying and crawling back, this time she chooses something else.