The Periods of Being

Chapter XXXXII

Chapter XXXXII

Olive opens the door to the day drawing room carefully. Her hand on the doorknob shakes with nerves, hoping that she won't run into her mother in this room. It's the least that she needs at the moment. Especially after watching Julie frown at her choice of the black dress and the eyes of her family members wondering why she is still in mourning. Freya even stared at her during breakfast, finally realizing that she is still dressing in mourning black. Olive believes that Freya might know why she mourns longer than the mourning period, but she can't be sure. Not after her attitude toward her last night. It has been evaluated in her mind last night in bed that Freya doesn't give slight care for Olive and her mourning and her emotions. If she did, she would've heard her confession and her apology last night before her family made an appearance in the drawing-room.

    She peeks in to find that no one in the drawing-room and she lets out a breath of relief. She sneaks inside with her favorite book in her free hand. The sun is unbearable in this room, but it creates a reflection of past, peaceful days of her childhood she can't help to cling to.

    She drifts into the room and slumps on the couch. She uses the armrest as a backrest and swings her legs up to prop them on the rest of the couch. She breathes out a sigh of comfort... How can you be comfortable in a day like this? Her comfort disappears with the gentle, yet harsh, reminder that her heart sends to her. She bites the inside of her lip and drops her head down to the book on her lap. Her fingers flip through the pages mindlessly as she thinks if she should vanish inside of the book to help her mind from going crazy, but she realizes soon after the thought that it is too late to keep herself sane. Her grief makes her insane. Her anxiety makes her anxious. Her past-self makes her doubtful of her present-self.

    She closes the book and drops her legs back down, sitting properly on the couch. She puts the book on the side table beside her and leaves her fingers to fiddle with the wedding ring around her ring finger. She twirls it around and around. Her heart pounds and the booming sound echos in the empty room. The unknown of Freya kills her slowly, wondering when she will be speaking with her. Would she have Mr. Delacery search for her and send her outside? Or even into a different room? A room would be better. Four walls and a closed door will secure them away from others seeing and hearing Olive confessing to her committed sins and her one night of adultery.

    One night, she reminds herself. This is all because of one night.

    The screams she swallowed throughout all of this sneak up in the back of her throat, wishing to be released into the open and shake the walls with more than just heartbeats. She gulps them back down like a large pill. She sucks her lips in, trying to think about what she will say to Freya when she finally is with her. The words have been on repeat in the back of her mind since she wrote the letter and sent it out. The words never change, but each time she thinks of them, her emotions deepen like a growing ocean. She will cry when she sees Freya. She knows this. Her eyes water now as she thinks of her words and her apology.

    Would she even take the apology?

    It's unsure and somehow that creates a small glitter of hope because if she is unsure about it, and the results are unknown, it means there might be some form of light at the end of this never-ending tunnel.

    The door cracks open and she sits straight, no curve in her spine, no appearance of worry by her sluggish shoulders. Mr. Delacery enters the drawing-room with his back straight as well, but more proper than she does.

    You were right, she would send Mr. Delacery to hunt you down.

    "Lady Olive, Lady Freya requests for her presence in the hedge maze outside." The maze? "Will you like me to escort you?"