Promises Unkept

A letter and a bond

From the moment Eden had understood the true implication of this fateful day, a slaying headache had assailed Stephen's skull all abruptly and with every moment passing, it was overwhelming him all the more.

He had gotten rid of his coat and waistcoat and discarded them upon the chair nearby, as he had started pacing the room feverishly, biding some distraction from the gutting pain.

Eden was deep in sleep.

The letter that Mrs. Hopkins had handed him, he had placed it on her bedside table.

It was awful for him to be here, in this room. The only thing he longed to do was to lift Eden off that bed and leave this damned chamber right away. That cot with blood stain over it was only making it worse.

But he knew he couldn't disturb her now, in a state of mind where she astray of all material occurrences. She was holding on to him, he knew this without being told_ he had known it the moment she told him how others were so uncaring about her Maggie's life. Or death.

He walked to the rain-drenched window and leaning it, he pressed his forehead into the cold, misty glass, hoping to find some concession in the infernal throb of his head.

But nothing was helping.

Nothing could help.

His pain was not his own. It was Eden's. It was rooted in her heart, this ache and it was blooming in his head.

They were bonded. They had been, since the moment Stephen re-pledged his vows at the Cathedral.

.....With her beating heart, my life goes on.......

The wound embedded in her psyche was plaguing his health.

It was her misery that he was sharing...and would share, every moment after.

At this instant however, the killing throb grew so worse in him that he was certain he would pass out should he remain standing.

Walking over to the bed, he tugged and undid his silken bowtie, dispensing it to where his waistcoat now lay.

Carefully, he got onto the cot on which his Eden lay, his lean body adjusting swiftly as he sat down by her, his feet tucked up, his back against the headboard.

He closed his eyes shut, as the torment heightened within his skull, and then, he went blank.

Not asleep.

He fainted.

***

It might have been hours gone by.

It might have been days. Eras.

Centuries.

He was utterly lost, roused by the same clamped-down feeling in his heart and the heavy twinge in his head.

For a moment or two, even when his eyes were wide open, he could decipher nothing. Not even the kind of emptiness he was suffering.

Was it all black?

Was it all light?

He couldn't tell.

But then with a heavy gasp of dragged in breathe, his senses started to gain strength.

He was there, in that same accursed room.

He was leaning on the wall against her bed. He was in the same posture as he had been when he blacked out.

But there was a difference.

He tilted his head downward, taken by the weight upon his chest_ to find Eden's head resting on his heart.