What's a rose without its thorn?

FOOLISH PASSIONS

John was stressed.

Nothing unusual. For the past so many months, he was in torment. His scowl became as prominent a feature in his face just as his nose, eyes, and mouth. The progress of the mill was in question but nevertheless, Marlborough Mills was safe at present. No, it had nothing to do with the mill. It had to do with what he said to Miss Hale.

It was difficult to keep coming back to Crampton when he knew she was in love with another man. For days on end, the man's face tormented his inner being, left and right. Despite the darkness of the night, he had clearly seen his face as well as hers, embracing each other as if they were parting for life and never meeting again. That face was handsome, so much so that they looked like a couple made for each other.

Now as he was walking back to his mill house, his temper was clearly brimming. But not against Miss Hale or that rival man who held her affections. He was angry with himself. For letting his jealousy take hold of his conscience. It had been three full hours since he told, no, lied to her that his "foolish passions for her were over" and that he was "looking into the future". Just as he had uttered that, he dared not look back and had hurried upstairs- books in hand, anger in the face. But he knew that his words had hurt her. She was close to crying and kept standing there looking into the void. That much John knew.

He half-attentively attended the discussions at hand with Mr. Hale. Crampton was his only solace amidst his dreary mill house and his mill. Even now, he loved to come here but couldn't face her. He wished to turn back time and go back to the days before that hideous incident at Outwood station. But he cannot. He decided that he would be a friend to Mr. Hale. No matter what, he would come here
for his discussions with her father even if she would wish he didn't come.

While he walked, he cursed himself for speaking in such a manner to her. He had stooped her from speaking and let his mouth say what his heart didn't agree with. He expected her to retort. But unfortunately, she stood still, letting his words hurt her. She didn't speak a word in return. This response baffled John, for as much as he deeply regretted what he had said, he saw hurt and sorrow in her eyes, not humiliation.

He was still astonished to see the extent to which she had gone to protect that anonymous man, her lover. She had lied to the inspector of her whereabouts. John knew that she didn't have to do anything with Leonards' death. What burnt him was her attempt to safeguard the man by means of falsehood. A part of him wondered if she would do this had he been her lover. But then again, he will never put her in such a circumstance in the first place! That man, that horrible man, if he had any ounce of love similar to John's wouldn't have met Margaret at so late an hour. Every regard, every esteem he had for her started to crumble. He questioned himself if Miss Hale, his Margaret, was nothing but an illusion. He still couldn't find an answer.

His mind still somehow agreed to what he had said. She deserved that censure for behaving so improperly thus. Yet his heart, now burning with seething jealousy and love, disagreed. John understood that no matter how much true his love could be, it cannot be enough for the heavenly woman. And she was right to fall in love with that man. No, he cannot hurt her for not being his. He had to apologize to her. He should, as his heart ordered him to.

He realized he had reached his home and saw his mother waiting for him.

"Mother, I am quite late, I suppose. I am sorry. I was having a good discussion with Mr. Hale and neither of us realized that it had become quite late."

Mrs. Thornton disapproved, now more than before, of his visits to Crampton. The gossips of Miss Hale seen with another man late at night had still not diminished and made its rounds often. She feared that his son's name would be entangled in this mess as well. She had also expected that her son would somehow let his anger destroy whatever love he had for Miss Hale, after having seen her with another man. But she was inevitably wrong. His love and agony only grew. She knew he would never agree with her suggestion of discontinuing his visits to the Hales. This conversation had happened already. Yet tonight, she would try again.