7. Hope Edwards Really Needs a Buttered Roll

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It had been a few days since Hope had witnessed her best friend assaulting some woman with his lips. And now, Hope was thoroughly and completely pissed, for lack of better word.

Hope spent the first day crying and moping in her room, the second day sulking around the house and occasionally assaulting a canvas with paint , and on the third day, Hope woke up more angry than she had ever been in her entire twenty two years.

She couldn't believe how he ignored her for three whole months (she conveniently chose to forget the fact that she was avoiding him as well). She couldn't believe how quickly he had forgotten his supposed "love" for her; she felt that if he truly loved her, it would have taken him at least five years to get over her (however unreasonable that was). She couldn't believe that he had already moved on with someone else, enough to to kiss some random girl under their tree in their garden. But mostly, Hope couldn't believe Jonathan had gotten over her at all. She supposed the regardless of the amount of time that had passed, she would have been just as angry.

Hope was so accustomed to Jonathan only paying attention to her, as childish as that was. She couldn't fathom the thought of her childhood friend and confidant actually turning his admiration elsewhere. And now that he had, Hope was left a distinctly sour taste in her mouth.

Regardless of her rather violent feelings for Jonathan, Hope had been invited to tea by Mrs. Langston, and that was how she found sitting in a pale blue parlor once again.

Anne had forgiven Hope, however, she was unaware that her son had another lady friend that he had been kissing in her gardens.

"So," Anne began. "How did your talk with Jonathan go? He hasn't said anything to me about it. It's as if it never occurred."

"Well," Hope started as she tried to figure out how to word what she wanted to say next. "It never actually happened. I saw him in the gardens with someone else. A woman."

"You mean Vivianne Pinkerton? That silly girl?" Anne asked before continuing. "She's just the daughter of one of Mr. Langston's business partners." Anne waved her gloved hand dismissively at the notion of Vivianne Pinkerton posing any threat to the vivacious and beautiful Hope.

"Well she looked like more than that." Hope replied indignantly. "He was- she was- they were... rather engrossed in one another when I went out there."

Anne's eyes widened is shock, she was so surprised she almost dropped her tea. "What? Well they're certainly not engaged! And Jonathan made no mention of courting her. How dare he! This could be such a scandal!"

"Well, I'm not going to mention it to any town gossip" Hope muttered darkly. "It's far too embarrassing for me!"

Anne frowned for a moment before her features suddenly cleared. "Fret not, dear, for this is merely some simple dalliance. Soon enough he'll have realized that you've come round and he'll once again be by your side."

"You didn't see him kissing some scarlet woman." Hope's voice was just as dark as it had been before, regardless of Anne's reassuring words.

Anne decided against pursuing the subject further, as it was perfectly clear that Hope had no intention of seeing sense nor reason. Instead, Hope slouched even further into her cushioned seat while sulking in her own self-induced misery

At that moment, the previous topic of discussion entered the room. Upon seeing Hope sitting in his mother's parlor, Jonathan immediately turned to execute a hasty exit.

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