October 8th, 1894 - Grimstone Residence
after this thread
after this thread
It's always worse before the better, I suppose
And how far down, it's hard to tell
When to buy and when to sell
'Cause that comedown, it hurts like hell
And every thorn has its rose
And how far down, it's hard to tell
When to buy and when to sell
'Cause that comedown, it hurts like hell
And every thorn has its rose
Daff had done her best to mop up the tears for the walk back home. She'd debated going straight back, taking a long walk, or even going to Zinnia's instead, but she had vowed to tell Elias everything, and this affected him too, so she wasn't going to dance around what had just happened. He might be angry with her and that would be fair, but nobody could say she was a liar. He'd been in the workshop when she'd left an hour ago. All she had said upon her departure was that she was taking a walk, which she had, it had just been with a specific destination in mind.
The closer she got to home, the more her resolve crumbled. This was going to go poorly, she just knew it. There was nothing to be done about it though, he deserved to know the truth and there was no way she'd be able to hide her mood from him. He was still in the workshop when she'd returned, so she'd gone inside and started tea. If he had something important to finish, she wasn't going to interrupt him, plus it would give her a few minutes to get her head on straight and figure out how to go about this.
Things had been better lately. She'd mostly gotten over the anxiety about becoming a mother the rounder she got, the more excited she became. Even if she didn't have it all figured out, she would eventually. It wasn't an exact science, parenting, or marriage for that matter. Now though, she was exhausted emotionally and physically. Daff sank heavily into one of the kitchen chairs and put her head in her hands, elbows on the table. A fresh wave of tears bubbled up, but nowhere near as desperate or all-encompassing as the sobbing in Noble's workshop. The tears leaked out slowly, a steady stream of sadness that she had to let go of one way or another. It was done, it was over and though she had already moved on a long time ago, she still felt that sting of heartbreak all over again.
She sat like that for only a few minutes, expecting the kettle to be what roused her from her thoughts, but it was the opening of the door and she wiped away some of the tears that had fallen as she looked up at him. "I'm okay," she started with, because he would assume otherwise in her current condition. "But I need to talk to you." Her voice was quiet, resigned, tired. This was going to be miserable, but it had to be done.
The closer she got to home, the more her resolve crumbled. This was going to go poorly, she just knew it. There was nothing to be done about it though, he deserved to know the truth and there was no way she'd be able to hide her mood from him. He was still in the workshop when she'd returned, so she'd gone inside and started tea. If he had something important to finish, she wasn't going to interrupt him, plus it would give her a few minutes to get her head on straight and figure out how to go about this.
Things had been better lately. She'd mostly gotten over the anxiety about becoming a mother the rounder she got, the more excited she became. Even if she didn't have it all figured out, she would eventually. It wasn't an exact science, parenting, or marriage for that matter. Now though, she was exhausted emotionally and physically. Daff sank heavily into one of the kitchen chairs and put her head in her hands, elbows on the table. A fresh wave of tears bubbled up, but nowhere near as desperate or all-encompassing as the sobbing in Noble's workshop. The tears leaked out slowly, a steady stream of sadness that she had to let go of one way or another. It was done, it was over and though she had already moved on a long time ago, she still felt that sting of heartbreak all over again.
She sat like that for only a few minutes, expecting the kettle to be what roused her from her thoughts, but it was the opening of the door and she wiped away some of the tears that had fallen as she looked up at him. "I'm okay," she started with, because he would assume otherwise in her current condition. "But I need to talk to you." Her voice was quiet, resigned, tired. This was going to be miserable, but it had to be done.
![[Image: Daff-Sig-S95.png]](https://i.ibb.co/4wH0XvLL/Daff-Sig-S95.png)