One Wrong Choice

Truth

   It took three days for Alexander to become restless. He demanded that I go visit my father, for real this time. He knew damn well that when I "visited" last time, that's not where I really went. He had buisness to look into regarding the stolen cargo from his train. At least he didn't know I had a hand in that, though he certainly knew that hat belonged to some sort of Cowboy or Yankee. I just prayed he wouldnt figure out it was Arthur...

   Even so he needed a way to hide the forming bruises on my face. Didn't paint him in a good light to any who saw them and he certainly didn't want my father to know.

   "You will keep this hat on, if it comes off then you simply fell down the stairs and hit your head on the mantel. Do you understand?" Alexander said coldly. I looked at myself in the mirror with a large and rather ridiculous hat on to cover the large black and blue bruise on the side of my temple that had formed.

   I nodded, only half understanding his words. I felt fuzzy in the head. My skin looked paler, my eyes had bags under them and were still red from all the crying over the last few days, and even my hair (despite being clean) seemed messy and untamed. God I was tired, mentally, emotionally, even physically. I felt disgusted by my own body... Alexander decided that "despite my treachery", he still wanted a son. My nights with him became long and hellish, and my mornings cold and pathetic. I wish Arthur were here. He wouldn't treat me this way, he wouldn't hurt me...but Alexander...Alexander is not Arthur...

   I boarded my carriage. It would be an entire week before I'd see Alexander again, and even if I had to put up with my father instead, I would relish every second Alexander was gone.

   Watching Alexander and the mansion disappear from veiw, I felt the rocking of the carriage pull me into a sleep, not the most comfortable, but the best I'd had recently. I drempt of Arthur, his face, his hands, his gang, the night we'd spent together not that long ago.

   I was woken by the sudden halt of the carriage, a valet opened my door and I slumped out. My father, stoic as always, stood at the entrance of the manor. I tried to straighten up, the last thing I needed was for him to find out about all this.

   "Good morning, sweetheart." He greeted taking my hand as I walked up the stairs of the front door. "Hello, father...", I nodded respectfully. He eyed my hat as we entered the house. "How's Alexander?" He asked as he walked me to my old room. "Hes...Fine. stressed...", I responded. He nodded,"He's working hard, I hear he's recently been stolen from," he responded. He eyed me once more as a small scowl set on his face, perhaps my tiredness was showing..."I also hear you both are trying for a child," he pushed on. I swallowed hard,"Yes, he wants a son to pass on his money to...I figured you would want the same...", I said softly. "Hmm...well...I certainly need someone to inherit the gamily fortune. Alexander won't get a cent out of me." He sneered, I was rather surprised by this sudden statement. I understood that my father didn't care much for Alexander, only the money and family name, but I thought he'd at least hand money down to him. "Still...I was simply surprised you didn't inform me. I would have rather received the letter from your rather than him," he sounded...almost sad...maybe that was just me reading to much into it though.

   When we arrived in my old room, I sat on the bed. I was tired, the last few days had been draining in every aspect. My father broke the silence after staring at me for a long moment,"Why are you wearing such a ridiculous hat?" He looked at me coldly. When my father asked a question, he wouldn't except no response. I made up an excuse, "I promised a friend I'd wear it, she bought it for me!" I grinned, a fake grin...the kind that shows it untruth in the eyes, but a grin nonetheless. Either he believed me or he just didn't care enough to dig, but he left it alone. "Well...Dinner will be at 5," my father said before leaving me in peace.

   It had been...a long week. One minute I was having the time of my life, with a man I thought could finally give me a happy ending. A man who saw me as more than a just a woman married to a rich man...now...now I had nothing but bruises, mental and physical. I was tired but couldn't sleep, hungry but always nauseous, even after bathing I felt dirty and unwell. Perhaps I should run away...it sounds ridiculous, I'm a grown woman who's considering running away. Still, this life was all I've ever known. I've never had an empty stomach, I've always had a nice bed to sleep in, a roof over my head...I knew nothing of life outside of luxury. Even now in my most miserable moment people out there would kill to be where I am...so why did I feel so unhappy, so...filthy.

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   I attended dinner that night, the long table forming a large expanse between my father and I. We ate, we chatted minimally, and then went to bed. The week went on this way. Then the next I spent with Alexander, same schedule. Never going outside without him, not seeing Arthur, spending long nights with him in his ridiculous attempt to have a son. I thought if I did these things he'd return to being the distant, minimal effort husband I married. But he wasn't, his drinking got worse and so did his temper...

   A letter came to me. I opened it and read it over and over and iver again. The sender? Tacitus Kilgore. I recognized it immediately. It was Arthur! He wrote asking where I'd been, saying he hadn't seen me in a while. What broke my heart was that he'd worried he'd overstepped a boundary all those nights ago. I wanted to reply...but I never got the chance. The moment Alexander saw the letter, he asked questions, then ripped the paper from my hands and read it before burning it in a fit of rage. That night was similar to the very first one when he found out. A hard right hand and cruel dehumanizing words. "Whore","bitch","worthless". It didn't matter anymore what he called me. Because he knew most importantly he couldn't call me his. He made sure to ask authorities and the post of any knowledge who Tacitus was. Though that quickly found to be a dead end.

   He sent me to my fathers the next morning. He didn't want to even look at me. This time makeup didn't help nearly as much as the new bruises were far more fresh and swollen. And the hat was less helpful. Still I was sent on my way, and was greeted by my father once again. "I see your still wearing that hat, your friend got you." He remarked. "Its grown on me." I responded, entering the house.

   My father turned to face me. "How long will you be staying?" I paused to think of what Alexander had told me to say. "1 week...Alexander has buisness out of town until then." I lied through my teeth on that last bit. Alexander was out fucking whores and drinking in Saint Denis Still. But I'd been sent to the outskirts of the city where my father's estate was because he was simply tired of me. For a split second, I thought I almost saw remorse in my fathers eyes. Did he know it was a lie?

   At dinner, as we ate, my father decided to stir some conversation. "I was thinking, Y/n, why don't we go horse back riding one of these days." Where did that come from...? "Horse back riding?" I questioned, was it a trick question, a lure for me to entrap myself? "I understand that the Coterras and some others look down on horse riding, but I happen to enjoy it, and...you loved it when you were little. I thought perhaps...," he paused looking for the right words. "I feel we've drifted apart..."

   "You-...You sent me off to marry a man for wealth." I said irritatedly. He wanted to act like I was the reason we never talked?! "I just wanted what was best for you." He snapped back. "I hate him!" I shouted.

   I hadn't meant to say that...but the anger and frustration and sadness that had been piling up eventually flooded from my heart and my head and to my tongue, spilling out for my father to endure. "He is pathetic, a drunkard, a cheat, and shit husband!" I yelled, standing from my seat. "You think you have it hard?! I never had half the luxury you do when I was young, I had to work and except help form others even when I didn't want to at first." He retorted as if this was all some big life lesson. "I would rather be poor and live in the gutters than have to deal with that abusive, pompous, idiot of a man for one more night." I felt myself on the verge of tears, my voice shook slightly as my father stood up. "What did you say...?" He looked at me. "I called him an idiot! And big stupid fucking asshole!" I cursed angrily as my father approached  me raising his arm quickly upwards. I hadn't realized how bad things have gotten...I flinched. Hard. He was only reaching for my hat, the flinching and my prior word choice only serving as evidence to his hunch. Lifting the hat slowly, he got a much better look at my face. The bruise, more evident even with my makeup, could be far more easily seen now. His expression was pitiful and regretful. He suddenly pulled me into a tight hug. "My little girl...I'm so sorry," he held me close. My vision blurred with tears as I felt myself begin to break down...
 
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