My Angel of Music

Jade

I let my eyes flutter open the next morning.  I smiled in excitement of spending the day with my two favorite people- Erik and Meg.  We were all going to get along so well, I could tell.  I looked to my side for Erik, but he wasn't there.  He must have gotten up early to do some sort of chore.  I got up and got dressed in a lilac colored flowy dress, that required no corset and brushed my hair.  I tied it back with a white ribbon and pinched my cheeks for some color.

I could smell muffins and some sort of ham as I made my way down the stairs.  As I passed the library, a sound made me stop.  I ducked behind the wall and peeked into the doorway.  I figured it was Erik so I was going to sneak up on him, like I did so often.  I looked into the room and what I saw made me want to throw something, made me want to scream at the top of my lungs, made me want to smash a vase into his head.

Jade, the pretty servant that I had thought winked at my husband at the dinner party was holding onto Erik for dear life as they kissed like a married couple.  Erik held her shoulders, his knuckles turning white.  I ducked behind the door once more, sliding down it slowly.  I reached the ground and I clapped my hand over my mouth so I wouldn't cry out in pain.  In shock.  In fear.  In sadness.  In anger.  I took deep breaths and quietly stood up and ran to my room.  I shut the door gently and then started pacing the room.  

How could he have done this to me?  I was his wife!  The mother of his unborn child!  Why would he do this?  Was he bored of me?  Did he not love me in the first place?  These questions whirled around in my head like a tornado, making my head hurt and my eyes get blurry with tears.  I needed to let out some steam.  So the first thing I saw was flung to the floor- a clock.  It was small and wasn't of much value so I was glad that it was the victim of my anger and not more expensive like the fine china on the table.

I flopped onto the bed and started to sob like a child who just lost her doll.  Only instead of a doll, I had lost my husband.  And to some slut like Jade!  I would fire her, I would send her away!  But that wouldn't fix Erik.  He could find any other servant girl in the house and kiss them, or whatever else.  Then I would send all of them away!  We could just have old ladies and boys for all I cared!  But then a thought made me stop crying.  Not because it comforted me, but because it hurt so bad that I couldn't even cry to make it stop.

What if he loved Jade?  Or maybe he just didn't love me, and wanted me to leave.  Could this even be a theory?  Was it even possible?  After everything we had been through?  I had to confront him.  I couldn't sit here, not knowing.  I had to at least let out my anger.  So I got up, and without even composing myself, strode out to find him.  I asked a startled servant where he was,and they pointed to the rose garden.  I saw him picking a white rose and smelling it's sweet, innocent scent.  He heard my loud footsteps and turned around.  His face lit up and he smiled.

"Good morning Chri-"  I cut him off with a hard slap to the face.  He looked surprised and a little angry, but I could tell it didn't hurt him.  Dang it.  "Christine!  What-"  I cut him off again, but this time with my words.  "How could you?  How could you?"  I hissed.  Realization crossed his face, and pain replaced his angry expression.  He didn't reply, only looked into my eyes sadly.  "After all I've done for you.  After all we've been through.  And now you go and do something like this."  My voice started to rise in anger.  "Please, Christine."  Was the only thing he said.  "I love you, Erik!  I only wish that you could have told me that you could not return my love sooner.  Maybe then it would have saved me alot of pain, and you alot of trouble."  Against my will, tears began to flow down my face.  But not in sadness, but in anger.

My blood was boiling and there was nothing to cool it.  I took a step closer to him and began beating on his chest with my small fists.  My attempts to hurt him were futile, he didn't flinch or cry out.  All I could yell was, "How could you?  Why would you do this?"  which he would never answer.  Finally he grabbed my wrists and pulled me away from him.  There was sadness and fear in his features.  He held my wrists, not letting me move until I was completly composed and steady.  "Let me go."  I hissed.  He did so hesitantly.  The white rose that he had picked was lying on the ground, still in perfect condition.  I bent down and picked it up, without breaking eye contact.  I crushed the petals in my hand while looking into his sad, blue eyes.  Tears formed behind them as he witnessed the rose's demise, and the symbolism behind it.