Dear Marjorie,
I truly don't know how I keep ending up in these situations. The worst has happened, Marjorie. I'm writing this letter after getting married off to Dr. Hemlock - Solomon he wishes I would call him - and the first thing I thought of doing after arriving for the night in his home was shut myself in this room and think.
I know why this had to happen; Mum won't have to worry about money anymore and our workers can return to their livelihoods. It's just... Well, I don't know. Maybe I'm looking into this too much. I mean, this is completely normal; it was bound to happen eventually. But... oh I'll just write it. Not like anyone else is going to read this anyway.
This had all been arranged roughly 2 weeks ago around our dining table. Evidently, Dr. Hemlock had already inquired about marriage to me with Mum, and that was their chance to discuss it with me as well. I took my seat and Mum gently placed her hand over mine.
"Willow, darling, Dr. Hemlock and I have been discussing... a marriage arrangement for you," she said.
I had forced a polite expression of interest. "Oh?"
"I believe it would be in all of our best interests for us to be wed," Dr. Hemlock said. "I find you a very interesting and polite woman, Willow, and I wish to understand you better with time."
I smiled and nodded my head. "As to you, Dr. Hemlock."
"Oh, please call me Soloman, my dear."
I merely dipped my head in acknowledgement. Mum looked between us and grinned, the excitement shining in her bright eyes. I swallowed my indecision before agreeing to the engagement and we moved on to converse about wedding details and future ownership of the estate.
Well, that was was two weeks ago. The wedding was arranged - a small, but classy one - and now I'm alone in my new room inside Dr. Hemlock's home. It is a nice home, with walls of stone and surrounded on all sides with deciduous trees tall enough to scratch the sky. It's beautiful, I admit, but not exactly my style. Perhaps I'm just missing the familiarity of the home I grew up in. I have to keep reminding myself I'm doing this for my mother, and for you, Marjorie. Even if something within these walls makes the air feel just that bit more suffocating in my lungs. I must just get used to it. Living without you, living without Mum, and living with a man.
Love, Willow
YOU ARE READING
To, Evermore
RomanceThis is a story inspired by the songs from Taylor Swift's album "Evermore." It explores the lives of several women and their complicated relationships with those they want to love but can't. Their unrelated lives intertwine throughout the book in wa...
