June 22nd, 1892 — Crouch Home, Swallowbury
@’Reuben Crouch’
@’Reuben Crouch’
Five days.
The near week of space shouldn’t have bothered her as terribly as it did, for she was already nearly certain what his answer would be. The countless promises they’d both made to try and find happiness together was the only evidence he had to base his decision against. Nevermind that neither of them had ever truly put in the effort such a promise required, nor had either of them ever really meant the promise at all. When all he had was the past to consider, it was obvious what was to come.
She tried to remind herself that his continued absence wasn’t necessarily an ending to any romantic aspect of their marriage. Additional time to think had definitely proved prudent to her, for she was now keenly aware of how difficult working through their issues would be. Even despite her wanting to try, it didn’t mean anything fruitful would be the result. More than that, she had grown somewhat convinced that becoming friends was a better goal for them than happy lovers. Being able to be friendly towards one another, to chat over dinner and play games with their daughter (for more children would be entirely off the table if they decided to remain friends instead) would be the best thing they could do for Nora. A happy home filled with laughter and their mutual love for her could be enough.
Except, just as she had become aware of how difficult it would be to truly forgive one another and move forward, she’d also realized how desperately she desired a happy marriage. Melody wanted more mornings of waking up besides him, his smile shining brighter than the sun streaming through the window. She wanted more children, even if pregnancy was difficult and uncomfortable. She wanted him. Melody hadn’t lied when she told him it was him that she had dreamt of for all those years. It would just be a hard mountain to climb now to get there.
Melody had quietly asked that they talk after supper once Nora had been put to bed and their staff gone for the day when he had finally come home. The conversation they were to have was one that required their full attention, and she was certain one or both of them would become emotional at some point. Still, when everyone had left for the day and she’d settled into her chair at the table to his immediate right, she couldn’t help but wish they continued to avoid this altogether.
Ben had broken the silence first with a question about her quick flip in thinking. Just last week she’d been too tense and, quite frankly, angry to discuss anything remotely close to their being together, and now she was determined to try and fix things if he wanted to, too. “I’m still angry and confused.” Melody began uncomfortably, her hands folded on the table. “I can’t seem to understand why you remained resolved to withholding information even after seeing how stressed it made me. I know it would’ve been a difficult conversation and a lot of it I’m sure we’d both rather forget … it’s just … it’s still a part of what happened to us. I guess … I guess I just don’t understand the decision making there and that’s something I have to come to terms with.”
Pausing to breathe, she looked from her hands to him. “But, at the end of the day, we’re still married. We’re still married despite all the conversations of divorce and how close we came to it. Don’t we owe it to one another to seriously, genuinely try at least once? To not just say it, but to actually follow through?”
The near week of space shouldn’t have bothered her as terribly as it did, for she was already nearly certain what his answer would be. The countless promises they’d both made to try and find happiness together was the only evidence he had to base his decision against. Nevermind that neither of them had ever truly put in the effort such a promise required, nor had either of them ever really meant the promise at all. When all he had was the past to consider, it was obvious what was to come.
She tried to remind herself that his continued absence wasn’t necessarily an ending to any romantic aspect of their marriage. Additional time to think had definitely proved prudent to her, for she was now keenly aware of how difficult working through their issues would be. Even despite her wanting to try, it didn’t mean anything fruitful would be the result. More than that, she had grown somewhat convinced that becoming friends was a better goal for them than happy lovers. Being able to be friendly towards one another, to chat over dinner and play games with their daughter (for more children would be entirely off the table if they decided to remain friends instead) would be the best thing they could do for Nora. A happy home filled with laughter and their mutual love for her could be enough.
Except, just as she had become aware of how difficult it would be to truly forgive one another and move forward, she’d also realized how desperately she desired a happy marriage. Melody wanted more mornings of waking up besides him, his smile shining brighter than the sun streaming through the window. She wanted more children, even if pregnancy was difficult and uncomfortable. She wanted him. Melody hadn’t lied when she told him it was him that she had dreamt of for all those years. It would just be a hard mountain to climb now to get there.
Melody had quietly asked that they talk after supper once Nora had been put to bed and their staff gone for the day when he had finally come home. The conversation they were to have was one that required their full attention, and she was certain one or both of them would become emotional at some point. Still, when everyone had left for the day and she’d settled into her chair at the table to his immediate right, she couldn’t help but wish they continued to avoid this altogether.
Ben had broken the silence first with a question about her quick flip in thinking. Just last week she’d been too tense and, quite frankly, angry to discuss anything remotely close to their being together, and now she was determined to try and fix things if he wanted to, too. “I’m still angry and confused.” Melody began uncomfortably, her hands folded on the table. “I can’t seem to understand why you remained resolved to withholding information even after seeing how stressed it made me. I know it would’ve been a difficult conversation and a lot of it I’m sure we’d both rather forget … it’s just … it’s still a part of what happened to us. I guess … I guess I just don’t understand the decision making there and that’s something I have to come to terms with.”
Pausing to breathe, she looked from her hands to him. “But, at the end of the day, we’re still married. We’re still married despite all the conversations of divorce and how close we came to it. Don’t we owe it to one another to seriously, genuinely try at least once? To not just say it, but to actually follow through?”
![[Image: dqAG6wz.png]](https://i.imgur.com/dqAG6wz.png)
beautiful set by mj