09-08-2021, 11:58 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-09-2021, 12:01 AM by Philippa Danes.)
That was what broke her. She looked down and just started to stuff her fist into her mouth, turning red. Then she finally just started yelling in her pain and frustration, "No, neither of you understand! I had nothing left to give except for that and it was my choice to make, not yours!" She slammed her hand into her left breast so hard that one could hear it and she said softer, "I am grateful for your help, Dr. Wells, you've been kind and generous to me in these last months, but you cannot give me companionship. You cannot. You cannot be my friend if you are my employer." She paused meaningfully, "And you cannot give me the kind of feeling I crave." She was panting but her voice had evened out, if shaky. She tried to search his eyes then and said, "I know you know how I feel even if you don't think you do."
Then she turned to Douglas, "Yes, I knew better as a lady, but as a person who hurts very deeply right now, the need to feel some form of joy in this cruelty that has been thrust upon me by someone else's hand, outweighed the bad. If I happen to be pregnant, then -I- will have to take responsibility. Not you... Not Dr. Wells. Me. I know the gravity of the situation. Neither of you have any obligation to help me."
And then to both of them, "The man I think did my family in is in Boston. I drew him." She left the room for a long moment, headed up to her room, and then came down with her drawing pad. "I don't recall his name because he was always overseas until recently and papa did not discuss business with the womenfolk. But he was someone my father must have trusted because he allowed him in the house and I could remember what a strikingly ugly fellow he is." And the drawing was almost lifelike when she handed it over, so detailed it was.
She dropped the pad by accident and it fell open to a leaflet where she had drawn her lover while he was smiling, dimples and all. If one of the two men picked up the pad and flipped through, there were some disturbingly detailed dark pictures of her nightmares, there was a picture of Tristan, a picture of Douglas, and even a picture of the woman from the library among others.
Then she turned to Douglas, "Yes, I knew better as a lady, but as a person who hurts very deeply right now, the need to feel some form of joy in this cruelty that has been thrust upon me by someone else's hand, outweighed the bad. If I happen to be pregnant, then -I- will have to take responsibility. Not you... Not Dr. Wells. Me. I know the gravity of the situation. Neither of you have any obligation to help me."
And then to both of them, "The man I think did my family in is in Boston. I drew him." She left the room for a long moment, headed up to her room, and then came down with her drawing pad. "I don't recall his name because he was always overseas until recently and papa did not discuss business with the womenfolk. But he was someone my father must have trusted because he allowed him in the house and I could remember what a strikingly ugly fellow he is." And the drawing was almost lifelike when she handed it over, so detailed it was.
She dropped the pad by accident and it fell open to a leaflet where she had drawn her lover while he was smiling, dimples and all. If one of the two men picked up the pad and flipped through, there were some disturbingly detailed dark pictures of her nightmares, there was a picture of Tristan, a picture of Douglas, and even a picture of the woman from the library among others.