Ghosts of the Past [ RDR2 - Arthur Morgan ]

Chapter 5 - As though He Never Existed

Word count - 2356
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1896

A thirty-Two year old Rosemary Levenson dismounted her horse in the town she currently called home. It was a shabby place where no one would really want to live if given the option. Yet it had treated her as well as she could hope for a woman.

That was until today, when she found out what her husband had been doing that afternoon. Now she was marching across the muddy streets, eyes narrowing in of the saloon ahead of her. Once inside the smell of alcohol hit her like a wall and her eyes scanned the tables and chairs until the landed on her husband.

He looked up in shock to see his wife out in town. Normally he insisted she stayed in the house, yet here she was, steam pouring from her ears as she stared down at him, his eighth shot of whiskey on the table. Rosemary practically glowed red as she looked into the eyes of her husband, her shoes felt like they were melting into the beer soaked wooden floor and the eyes of the patriots glanced over to watch what looked like it was to be a loud argument. Even the barman seemed to shrink away as the anger of the woman glowed fierce.

"A whore, Joseph. A whore! You can't silver tongue your way outta it, this time! I deserve better, I deserve respect!" Her normally angelic southern drawls had formed into a strangled agitated shout at her husband across the table.

Joseph Pleekton was a sckimpish man. He had very little in terms of prospects and even less in terms of redeeming qualities. Rosemary's marriage to this Joseph had been nothing but a sad attempt for love after five years of pining for a man who now only existed in her dreams. If anything Joseph was the first man to show her any attention after she felt it was time to get back out there. With most relationships that go south, there were warning signs Rosemary had ignored, but for the most part Joseph had been a kind and caring partner for the first two years they spent together.

Three years later, however, she regarded this marriage as her second biggest regret, shadowed only by the idea that, had she chased Arthur and the strange boy up the path the night he left, her life could be very different.

"You don't deserve nothing, bitch. I am your everything. Without me, you'd be that sad lonely woman I met, desperate for any man's attention." Joseph cursed back at her, downing a shot of whiskey in one "Ain't my fault I gotta resort to whores. You barely put out."

Her face reddened as the crowd seemed to awe and ooh at their words. Still the look of the man she hated was what drew her attention most "I could be anything. I could be a god damn doctor if I wanted to."

This statement must have been rather funny to Mr Pleekton. He pulled back into a hearty, derisive laugh, spittle coming from his mouth as the chair under him squeaked in protest "You! A doctor! You're just a little girl."

His words may have cut her, but she didn't show this. Instead she glared down at him, anger pouring from every inch of her skin "I could, you know! I'd go east where they aren't such bastards. I don't need you, and truth be told I never god damn did. You're nothing but a tiny, tiny little man, Joseph Pleekton. You're nothing"

Joseph stood up very suddenly, his laughter stopping like a candle being snuffed out. The chair beneath him clattered to the ground as he glared down into the dark hollowed eyes of his wife "You take that back, bitch. You couldn't be nothing without me."

It was Rosemary's turn to laugh derisively now, she crossed her arms over her body as she turned to the attentively listening crowd as though garnering support. Now raising her arms like a speaker on a soap box, Rosemary plastered a fake, anger driven smile on her face "You hear that, everyone? Joseph Pleekton - the nobody. The shame of his family. The coward of Tennessee." She hissed out, watching the crowd carefully "I want everyone here to know I ain't a Pleekton no more.