The Earl's Keeper

Thirty-Four: Snapping Point

Jackson rubbed his face over his hand, feeling suddenly weary and old. Part of his role was the herald of bad tidings. It was never easy and no matter how many time he confronted the same situation, it was always a little different. He stepped outside only to bump straight into a comatose state William and Gerty.

He grabbed his friend by the shoulder and uttered condolences that fell on deaf ears.

"Gerty, get the maids to bring up a hot bath and some clean linens. She may bleed out a little for the next few days. Given how premature this pregnancy was, it should not exceed this."

Premature?

Bleed out?

William stuttered incomprehensibly. "Can I...?" His eyes lingered on the door.

Jackson moved aside with a start. "Of course, of course. Just don't pressure her to talk much, it will hurt."

William readied himself before slipping inside and closing the door firmly behind him. Mia didn't look up or take notice. But when he eased himself onto the bed beside her, she leaned into him, seeking comfort in his presence.

"Will, I-" her voice cracked into a thousand octaves of pain. Each syllable beat on the drums of desolation as the rhythm of despair pounded out in dulled notes for him to hear.

He cradled her to him, and she pushed her face into his neck, her body shook with the effort of not crying. But it was his simple, loving words that were her undoing: "I am here, it's going to be okay. We'll get through this, love."

He had never seen a woman cry like this. Her tears dampened his shirt and her shuddering frame sent vibrations deep into his bones. The sound was a mix between a child's shameless crying and the voice of a woman's soul being made vocal for the world to know. It would haunt him, like many things, in the dark of night.

Mia kept her eyes closed and breathed him in. He smelt of leather and freshly washed cloth. A hint of sweat, he must have travelled like a madman to get to her. Each gentle stroke across her back soothed her, the monotony of his calming voice, telling her continuously it would be okay. Would it?

"It will be okay. I promise."

He sounded so sure.

"I'll be right here, Mia. You will never be alone through this, you hear?"

She did.

"It will get better, not for now. Maybe not for a long time. But it will."

Maybe it would.

"I love you, so dearly."

Mmm, there it was. The pounding of twisted pain in her heart halted for second of reprieve. "I love you too."

He heard the quiet, croaky whisper and squeezed her all the more to him. Nothing else was needed but to heal. The outward hurt would recover first. But it was the inside hurt that he worried about. Watching his father give in to depression, something still not well understood and tabooed, had changed him. Having grown up with his mother struggling with her own mental demons had changed him. William was more aware of how delicate the mind could be. A powerful tool, yes. But undoubtedly our own greatest enemy.

She had gone through so much, so soon. Why then, had the universe shouldered her with more?

Warring thoughts took a rest when he felt her breathing even out, she had cried herself to sleep. True to his word, he did not leave her. He took off his outer jackets and kicked off his shoes before tucking them both under the blanket. He didn't give a rats ass about the blood, save for the fact that it might be uncomfortable for her. So he tried his best to tuck layers between her body and the blood. It was shockingly red, and deep. A literal stain that mocked him with his wife's pain.