Silence

A Pet

Both husband and wife were seated comfortably in their chairs, across from each other and in the middle, a crackling fireplace provided warmth for the couple. Normally, Mrs. Ambrose would've chosen to sit beside her husband if it weren't for her blasted nerves eating away her sanity. Of course her husband, Mr. Ambrose was no oblivious fool, he sensed that there was something off with his wife today. He wanted to keep his head attached to his shoulder and chose not to ask his wife on what was making her jumpy.

Meanwhile, as Mr. Ambrose flipped a new page of the book that he was so engrossed in, Mrs. Ambrose however was felt like she was standing at the edge of the cliff. She just couldn't find a way to break it to her husband gently, she also preferred if he would not start making a cost-benefit analysis. She'd planned about this for weeks, searched for perfect opportunities to tell him. Maybe she could stage a little accident and immediately tell him, that way he'd be too flustered to even form a coherent sentence.

The thought of telling him now made Lilly a little nauseous—because maybe she should be feeling nauseous—and she wanted to throw her husband off into a deep abyss. That way she won't have the chance to tell him her little...revelation. But as much as she wanted to take the easy way out or as her feminist alter-ego would say "the cowardly way out" she is a strong woman! If all of the female population can do it, then so could she!

Mr. Ambrose heard the cough from his wife the first time. Although it was a little inaudible, nonetheless, he still heard it. Probably because he secretly stopped reading his book and he randomly flipped the pages as he discretely watched his wife from the corner of his eye. He did jump a little when she cleared her throat for the second time, though he would rather throw himself off a cliff than admit that he was a little frightened by his wife. He covered his surprise by straightening himself in his seat, and put his book away.

His dark eyes raked all over her, and she wanted nothing but to pluck his eyes out. How can she say her piece if he keeps looking at her as if she had a stomach almost the size of a melon—which is definitely false! No such thing has happened to her! Still, she gathered courage, though her eyes may be solely trained at their carpet she was still able to imagine his face. Without looking at her other half she said:

"Rick, I have a proposition for you," Lilly mentally cringed, I hope the message gets through his thick skull! She thought to herself as she waited for her husband to reply.

Thus he did: "What kind of proposition, dear?"

Rikkard couldn't conceal it, he is now curious as to what his wife is trying to tell him. But he still valued his life, thus he restrained himself from calling her out and to just cut to the chase. As everyone in London— maybe the whole world—can tell, he is not a patient man.

After a few moments his wife replied: "Do you-do you think we should get a pet?"

Rikkard almost fell off the chair in shock. The moment his lovely wife uttered the first two words his mind racked for the next words right after. Do you want to get a divorce? Do you want to sell our souls to the devil? Do you want to sell all our worldly possessions, give them to the government  and live in the forest until we die of starvation? The possibilities were endless if you had Lillian Ambrose nee Linton as your other very significant half. But no, his lovely—yet completely insane—wife ignored him for days, only grunted when spoken to  became completely mute all because she contemplated on getting them a pet.

Lillian heard her husband mutter an almost inaudible "What the hell" under his breath. Lilly felt her lungs completely stop and she secretly thanked the Man upstairs that she was not like the other women who preferred to wear those blasted contraption of mass destruction called corsets and heart hammered against her chest, but Lilly pushed through her plan.