Best Of Wives And Best Of Women: Alexander Hamilton X Reader

~~Chapter Forty~~

                                   November 30, 1801

       There are moments that the words don't reach.......

       The light does not enter my room anymore—neither does anyone else. Marie does not come in to complain about her corset, Alex does not come in to bother me, James Alexander does not come in to ask for food, William Stephen does not come in to tell on Elijah, Elijah does not come in to show me his work, the servants do not come in to tell me that Y/N is crying, and Philip does not come in to brag about his high grades in school. Oh, Philip.

       There is suffering too terrible to name.......

       Since the funeral, I have only worn the two darkest dresses I could find. Any bright color stabs my retinas and makes it harder for me to keep my eyes dry. Any bright color reminds me of how vibrant and ecstatic Philip always was. 

       You hold your child as tight as you can.......

       I smiled at the thought of the newly found chapter in our lives. The book does not have to end because our legacy will be continued. I grabbed Alexander's hand and placed it on my stomach, rubbing the area in a non-harmful way so that nothing would happen to the life growing inside there. "Look around, look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now."

~~~

       "Philip."

       Alexander raised his eyebrow, "Philip?"

       "The name means 'beloved and dearest'--something you described him as." I stared at my son, a joyful smile on my face, "Do you like your name? It's Philip."

       The small child, merely five minutes being born, smiled at me, letting out a little giggle. Alexander rubbed Philip's head softly. "Philip. My son."

~~~

       "Un, Deux, Trois, Quatre, Cinq, Six, Sept, Huit, Neuf." My fingers hit a high note on the small piano in the main room.

       Philip sat next to me, repeating the French numbers I announced, "Six, Se-heh-pt, Huit, Neuf." He slightly mispronounced 'sept', but I am sure that he can correct himself.

       "Good." I smiled at my son, "En, Deux, Trois, Quatre, Cinq, Six, Sept, Huit, Neuf."

       "Six, Se-heh-pt, Huit, Neuf."

       "Sept, Huit, Neuf." I corrected.

       "Se-heh-pt, Huit, Neuf."

       "Sept, Huit, Neuf." "Se-heh-pt, Huit, Neuf."

       After realizing that he wouldn't pronounce 'sept' correctly, I continued the song, Philip singing along with me. "One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine!"

       And push away the unimaginable. The moments when you're in so deep—it feels easier to just swim down.......

       "Mother?" I turned around slowly to see Marie standing in the doorway. Her voice was just above a whisper when she continued. "Are you ready to go?"

       I nodded and picked up my trunk, walking out of the room. I climbed down the stairs, past the kitchen, and outside. My children waited outside with Alexander. The day was gloomy and depressing, and it stayed that way until we reached our new home.