Your Infidelity: Allowed It, Because I Love You

Freed Lover

Perspective d' Marie

I can see the pain living in your eyes. . .

I walk timidly and slowly towards my husband's business room. "The king requests your presence." What could he possibly want? To make love? He should know that we can't do that for a while. . Maybe not ever.

Not with him, anyway. . . Perhaps with Condè?

And I know how hard you try. . .

Fear and vulnerability strike me as I arrive at Francis' doors. The two guards greet me and bow before me. After, they speak up very clearly and professionally, "Your majesty." With that, they open the doors.

You deserve to have so much more. . .

"I don't want to see you. . You've been a terrible husband, king and a lover. I couldn't even count on your friendship. There is nothing about you that I adore still. I resent you, every part of you." These are all the words I want to tell him, but I can't. I'm not sure which part of me speaks these harsh words. Is it my heart? My anger? Me entirely?

I take my gaze off the floor and dare look at my husband-- who appears to be asleep. He sits in his chair, both forearms resting on the arms of la chaise. His head leans perfectly on the head of his royal chair, and his eyes peacefully closed. Francis. . . My Francis.

I can feel your heart and I sympathize. . .

I enter the room, and the guards give us privacy, though we won't be needing any. Francis has fallen deeply into sleep. I do nothing but stand and stare. Yes, stare. Only stare. I'm not sure if my eyes are capable of gazing at him when my heart is extremely incapable of loving him. . .

And I'll never criticize all you've ever meant to my life. . .

Oh, how I resent myself even more as I hurt him deeply. He doesn't say anything, but I know he wants us to be the way we were again. However, come to think of it, it's impossible.

I don't want to let you down. . .
His head moves all of a sudden, and his eyes flutter slowly open. His brows connect and his lips form a down curve as his frown.

"Francis," I impassively approach.

I don't want to lead you on. . .

"Mary," his voice is smokey. He's just woken up, so I know why his voice sounds like that. That's how he is after a peaceful sleep; shorts ones, his voice sounds normal.

I don't want to hold you back. . .

"You wanted to see me," is all I say. I don't mention watching him sleep. Though, as a wife of his, I should ask if he's tired.

. . . From where you might belong

"Ah, yes." He looks at me with those blue, loving eyes. Love, love everywhere in his eyes. It's not helping. It just makes me feel as though I am drowning in the memories of that night. It's all his fault. He did not mean for this to happen, but it's his fault. He could have told me about the blackmail! I could have helped him! "I'm sorry I fell asleep on you. We were supposed to talk. I had a dream actually. I dreamt that you and I ended things." With this, he laughs nervously. "That would never happen."

You would never ask me why. . .

I don't respond to his last comment. "It's all right. Though, I was planning on riding with my ladies. I'd appreciate it if you just went to the point of this calling."

My heart is so disguised. . .

"Right," he says. His expressions seems hurt. This man needs to stop loving me. "I just wanted to tell you that Condè and I are going to be searching for the Protestants that attacked the castle." He looks at me. "From town to town, house to house or even country to country. Mary, I will find them." He sounds determined. However, he is one to break promises.

I just can't live a lie anymore. . .

"Well, then. I pray to God that you succeed in your mission." I tell him. He nods a bit, smiles. "I also pray for your safety as you travel."

"Thank you, my love." Disgust takes over my face, and I am triggered.

I would rather hurt myself. . .

"Francis, there is something else we need to talk about." It's time. It's time to call things over between us. It's to terminate this unsalvageable marriage. It's time to let myself free from his suffocating grip that he calls love.

"Yes?" His eyes light up somehow. He is assuming wrongly. In fact, what I am about to do contradicts to being the way we used to be. Seems like forever ago, how we were.

. . . Than to ever make you cry. . .
"We've been apart for quite some time now," my voice is shaking.

Fear is on his face, but he recovers just seconds after. "Apart, you mean. . . Having separate rooms? Are you thinking of being in the same room again?"

There's nothing left to say,

"No," I say bluntly.

"Mary, I can't sleep well without you. In fact, I have hardly ever been sleeping at all since that tragic night. Do we really have to sink deep down in the ocean? We shall not let the evil-doings of others tear us down, darling." The utter melancholy in his voice he does not hide.

"Francis, it was you that turned our marriage into this; completely unsalvageable."

At this moment, I know, I broke his heart terribly. Just like I do all men, but I will not break Condè's. I will take care of it, like he takes care of mine.

"Mary, I love--"

. . But 'good-bye.'

Before he could finish his sentence, I interrupt him and say, "Perhaps you and Lola can pursue yourselves in each other's directions."

You deserve the chance at the kind of love. . .

Francis falls silent, and does not finish his sentence about loving me.

I'm not sure I'm worthy of. . .

It is indeed an uncomfortable and a despicable situation to let my husband go. It feels as though it was years ago, when we were heartbroken and devastated that our being together required more than just our love and preordained engagement. It felt like years ago when we were just kissing passionately right beside the castle's lake. Now, "I'm in love with another man," I tell him.

Losing you is painful to me.

Lovely song used: Good-bye by Air Supply