Like her former lover, Wildeve, Eustacia Vye should have been dead.
But it seemed death was not quite ready to take her just yet.
AN ALTERNATE ENDING TO THOMAS HARDY'S "THE RETURN OF THE NATIVE" & A CONTEST ENTRY.
Title: The Getaway Of The Foreigner Contest: Alternate Endings Host: Ambassadors of Antiheroes Galore Word Count: 2500
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LIKE HER FORMER LOVER, DAMON WILDEVE, EUSTACIA Vye should have been dead.
But it seemed death was not yet ready to take the dark-haired beauty into its clutches, for though her body had been submerged in the river's darkness for an interval of time near Shadwater Weir and her self had not stirred when Thomasin had vainly placed a bottle of hartson to her nostrils after her body had been drawn from the water, life returned quietly to Eustacia Vye as she laid in one of the beds on the second floor of The Quiet Woman Inn.
She knew she had survived her attempt at cutting her erratic history off with a catastrophic dash even before her eyes had fluttered open, even before the surgeon almost jumped out of his boots when a single name withdrew itself from her lips. In this peculiar case, it became clear that her mind had re-welcomed life before her physical being could, and alas, was Eustacia devastated!
The world had been outright cruel to the woman, having pumped venom into every one of her hopes and relations. Even though Eustacia was the first to admit she had committed a terrible wrong—nursing affection for one man whilst being married to another—she had felt that her choice to uphold her marriage vows and push her former flame away even as he came into a dead uncle's fortune of eleven thousand pounds, should have, to a fair extent, been recompensed.
However, it had appeared that Eustacia's forbearing had been destined for punishment: not only had she been blamed for her mother-in-law's death by her husband, but she had also been left penniless unless she had become a rich man's mistress if she had wished to ever leave Egdon Heath. How unfair had Eustacia's fate seemed that she had seeked death as if it was a beacon of light.
Yet the world wouldn't even grant her that.
"Your husband, Ms. Vye. You called for him."
Realizing her physical being had caught up to her mind, and the surgeon had recovered from his initial shock at her being alive, Eustacia blinked and wiped her eyes of any lasting blurriness. "I had?"
The surgeon nodded his head, and under the dull flame of the candle at her bedside, moved to the right and out the door to reveal Mr. Yeobright in the flesh, his frame wrapped in a blanket. A blush suddenly crept up her cheeks as she realized how inelegant she must have looked with her mane down in damp knots and her frame covered only by a blanket similar to her husband's.
"Oh Eustacia," Clym stepped forward, the flame illuminating the man's face that Eustacia once thought had been sculpted by a Greek artist. "I have been terribly cruel to you. If only I would have sent for you earlier, you would have returned home and all that was said and done would have never been mentioned again."
