Laurens, I like you a lot!

Chapter 7

*A month later*

It's been a month, give or take a few days, since Eliza's last spoken to me at all. I can't stand this anymore. The days have been long, full of silence, except for Philip's cooing. The only time I see my wife anymore is when she passes by the door of my study. Her eyes seem tired, and her forehead has developed creases from furrowing her brow, which I imagine she's been doing a bit of.

I've been trying to craft an apology, but it hasn't gone too well, as my writing is best suited for professional or romantic situations, not apologies. I think that's what's wrong with me- I never take the blame for situations I create. My 'do first think second' attitude may just be the death of me. That may be why Eliza is so upset with me. I might seem like nothing but a dog to her- I have a boyfriend, oh, a pretty girl, marry me!

This morning, when I woke up, I had the greatest idea. I'll use my brilliance to craft a romantic yet clever apology addressing exactly what I need to say, without all the doddling. After hauling myself out of bed, well, couch, I dressed in my finest attire and sat down in my big leather chair so I could begin writing my letter to Eliza. I think I'll write this to her, then grab my things and leave. I'll go visit Hercules and see if I can crash with him. It wouldn't be the first time, and he's pretty much my brother.

I grabbed my pen, and suddenly the weight of the world was on my chest. The reality of the situation had sunken in and I was underneath it all. I'd built fantasies in my head about what was happening, and what was going to happen, and I can't do that any longer. I took a deep breath in, and let it out. I sat the pen down on the desk, cracked my knuckles, and picked it up again.

It took me three hours, almost, but I finished my letter.

My dearest, Eliza,

I messed up. I messed up bad. I love you more than anything in this life. I know that things won't ever be the same, but I can not live without you and Philip in my life. When you read this, I'll be gone. I've gone off to Mulligan's because I know you don't want to be near me any longer. We've not spoken in a month, and it's left me alone with my thoughts.

I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry I couldn't provide for your life. I'm sorry I've driven you out of the narrative. You told me you relish being my wife. I know you're a kind-hearted woman, but I've caused you a fair share of problems. I understand if you don't want to be my dear any longer, but I can't lose you. I fell in love with your beautiful black eyes, and they will haunt me until my dying day if I let them go.

Tell me you won't go, that would be enough. Like you always say, look around, look around, at how lucky we are to be alive right now. Look at where we are, look at where we started. Just stay, and that would be enough.

Stay,

Your dearest Alexander

After I finished her letter, I waited for the ink to dry. While I waited, I reread it twice. Then, I found a bottle of my Caswell No. 6 cologne and lightly spritzed it over the paper. After I folded the paper, I kissed it and carried it with me from the study to the sitting room. Eliza's favorite book was sitting on the small table near the doorway. Her perfume was right next to it. Eliza would definitely kiss the book before going to bed and put perfume on in the morning. This was good because it would help me to be sure that she'll see the letter sometime soon. I slipped the letter under the glass bottle and sniffled. She wouldn't come after me, I knew. She'd read the letter and suck it up for the sake of those around her.

I've been ignoring the feelings for days. Things are getting easier to tell and to distinguish. I'd normally be absolutely crushed thinking of leaving my Eliza, but it's almost like I'm being called back to Mulligan's place. I don't want to leave Eliza, but this is something I must do, if not for her, then for me. Or, dare I say it, John. Ever since I received the news of his death, the air has seemed different. The ways things sound are different. The way I see things is different.

The way things have been reminded me of John. Every time I used to write to him about things going on, he'd give me his very clear and unclouded opinion. His judgment was always unclouded and he made sure he was positive about what he thought.

After placing the letter where I needed it to be, I walked through the house, running my fingers along the walls. This is where my Eliza would make memories with my son. She'll look at my son and see he outshines the morning sun, my son. As I walked, I looked at the way the paint on the wall was curling at the edges. Baby blue colored, Eliza's favorite. I was never truly able to make her laugh more than when we painted the walls. I remember it like it was yesterday.