Woman of Sorrows-The Black-Veiled Woman

Envy

Upon taking a seat in the armless chair, the dark-haired woman made her way across the room to him.

"You best hope this is not a waste of my time. I can think of many better ways to spend my evening then here, in this vile place."

"I fear it will not be," she answered, taking the seat across from him, "Though I rather wish it was. I find no joy in bringing this news to you."

"You had better get on with it. My patience does not last forever, at least when I could be spending time with my wife instead."

"Straight to the point, then?" she asked, almost surprised.

"Please, I very much desire to know what is so important that you have felt the need to tear me away from my home on one of the few nights I get to spend there."

"I did not want to meet with your wife present, for it is about her," she explained, "I am sorry to tell you this, but your wife has not been a faithful companion to you."

"Do you know how many times people have told me that before?" he inquired, "I have had men and women both try to pull me away from her by telling me she is unfaithful, or that she has been with other men. And I can assure you, not once has it been true."

The woman swallowed hard, realizing he was not pleased with her.

"I...I..." she stuttered, unable to find the words, "I don't know what else to tell you. I have seen her. I am not loyal to any man or woman, nor do I have anything to gain from this. I simply thought you should know. My husband was unfaithful, and I was told about it from an outside party. I was extremely grateful to know, so that I was able to understand his distance was not my fault, but his own. I was simply trying to return the favor, given that I have seen her about town and in her own home with half a dozen different men."

"I appreciate your concern, but I do not doubt my wife's loyalties. She has no reason to search out another, for she knows I fully love and care for her. She likewise has never shown any disapproval of her life. Whatever it is you say she is doing, it is clearly not as it seemed."

"I am sorry, I was only trying to be helpful," the woman pleaded, "You say that, but how do you know she is fully satisfied with her life? With everything? Why is it so difficult to believe that she may have become disloyal to you? I am not trying to make your business my own, I am only trying to be of assistance."

"You say that, and yet you were only trying to tear us apart, for what reason I cannot distinguish. However, I know it to be true. Now, I am going to return to my wife, so I bid you a good night," he explained, rising from his chair and rushing to the exit without looking back.

Outside, the cold air rushed over him, providing some much needed relief. Taking a deep breath, he sucked in the frosty air, helping him appease his anger. He defended his wife to the woman, but at the same time, he always feared Charles's rumors to be true. Though he hated to think of it, he was away often, and usually for a good while at a time. He had to talk to her now, to bring forward his concerns and his fears. If he was lucky, they would be unfound, but he would rather know the truth than live in the dark.

When he finally reached their modest home, he pulled open the door, stomped his boots on the entryway, and pushed the door open. Once inside, he pulled the door closed behind him and lowered the latch. Hanging his satchel on the peg beside the door, he made his way into the kitchen. Chalandra was bent over the fireplace, stirring whatever food was in the pot. Having heard her husband enter, she tapped the ladle on the side of the pot before hanging it beside the fireplace. Smiling, she turned to him, wiping her hands on her apron. Slowly, she made her way towards him. Still worried about what the woman had said, he felt himself become a bit more reserved. Instead of greeting her with the usual enthusiasm, he held out one arm for her. She embraced him fully, throwing her arms around his neck. He merely pulled his arm in a little, fearful that the woman was right.