02-25-2023, 05:09 AM
<cw - panic attack>
She shook her head, her gaze averted at that point. "It's nothing, sir," she said. Ruth fought the urge to bolt, her lips tightening so she would remain steadfast in her choice to remain silent when it came to the feelings that had been accumulating. The man had accepted her with all of her flaws. She'd seemed a lot younger even as it hadn't yet been a year since their meeting. She knew that he had a long way to go before he was even ready to face loving another woman and that it might never happen, and it might happen with someone who wasn't her. It hurt more than her so called husband's betrayal, cutting like a dull knife into an already gaping wound. She hurt too but she forgot about Angus when she looked into Edward's eyes sometimes.
And then the words were on her tongue; she was poised to tell him that perhaps it was time for her to move on. Yet the thought of parting ways with him seemed to carve deeper. She felt gutted. She hated her part in marrying Angus MacLeod, hated that Angus tried to keep a hold on her despite her willingness to move on. He didn't want her, he wanted her baby. He wanted to take the boy she had raised with the help of the people who took her in when others would have balked at her scandalous past. She couldn't let him take away the light of her life on top of robbing her from a chance to be happy with a man who actually loved so deeply that he blamed himself for something he didn't do.
The young woman didn't feel she was free to even love someone else romantically. "Happily ever after" was an ideal that was a myth. She gave a shuddering breath and slowly moved to her feet, lifting Jacob into her arms to hide the fact she was beginning to tremble from the effort to keep her dignity intact. "I should... put Jacob to bed, Sir... If you will excuse me, please? Have a pleasant evening," her voice was so soft that it was as if she barely said anything at all; barely above a whisper and it was so very strained that the tenson was palpable. She forced her gaze to him for only a moment, the facade she tried so hard to portray, seemed to fall from her face long enough for her very palpable emotion to be painfully evident to anyone who might see her.
Ruth stiffly looked away, and seemed to just... walk away slowly but not with the intent of having him follow her. Her body language could quite easily be interpreted as forced, the way with which she visibly shook but only slightly. She wanted very much to run but her legs felt almost too heavy for her to put one foot in front of the other.
It was as though a soft ringing filled her ears and everything was somewhat echoing about her as she numbly put distance between the two of them before she could make a fool of herself. The only thought she would allow herself to think was that she had no business to feel love for Edward Blackwood. It was at the doorway that she gave pause, her eyes looking almost lifeless as she gave herself that last glance toward him. It was only when she knew he could not see her face that she allowed herself the pained grimace of one whose heart was in turmoil. She then curled her lips inward so hard that it pained her, and she propelled herself forward with as much strength as she could muster.
If he followed at all, it would not be hard to catch up. He was usually in his own world and she didn't expect it of him. She knew beyond the pale that he would only do what his mind would allow him to do. The closer she got to her room, the more she began to gasp and shake. She tried so hard to remain calm but even Jacob was beginning to make noises of protest. Somehow, some way, she made it into her chamber regardless of his choice of actions. She had never felt this deeply before. Her son whimpered in her arms and she whispered an apology before relinquishing her hold upon the poor child by putting into his bed.
Anyone who might have caught sight of her along the way or if he did follow, one would be faced with a door that was wide open, left like that as if in afterthought. They would then see the young woman waver as she walked upon stilted legs, and she would make her way toward her bed before the sounds of her gasping actually became an alarm bell for those who may be nearby. She rolled her eyes somewhat upward toward the ceiling as she took in great gulps of air. Her head nodded forward and she placed her hand upon her abdomen which suddenly felt so constricting. Her eyelids began to flutter and she felt faint for the first time in her life. This wasn't her! This was someone she didn't even recognize within herself!
She didn't realize that she was in the throes of panic, couldn't hear what everyone on the outside could hear at that point. She began to wheeze, She was pale and clearly not present in a mental capacity in that very moment as everything that had been happening since the moment she chose to sneak out of her parent's house.
Ruth could only hear a whistling... she could not hear the fact that her son who picked up on her emotions was crying as babes cried, could not hear anyone who might try to speak to her, even shake her in that moment. Her eyes soon looked faraway and the tears that had been suspended dribbled unchecked down each cheek, first the left and then the right came tentatively after. Her heart was so loud, beating fast and hard against her breast.
This wasn't her, damn it! She began to claw at the buttons to her blouse, her coreset was simply too tight. And then it happened. It was as if someone had snapped their fingers. The breath whooshed out of her, her legs buckled before she could even make it to her bed to sit down. What happened to her over the course of the time from the start of her walking toward her room, and the moment her body slid toward the floor, was only five minutes. In her mind, however, the whole scene took place over the span of a half an hour or so.
She shook her head, her gaze averted at that point. "It's nothing, sir," she said. Ruth fought the urge to bolt, her lips tightening so she would remain steadfast in her choice to remain silent when it came to the feelings that had been accumulating. The man had accepted her with all of her flaws. She'd seemed a lot younger even as it hadn't yet been a year since their meeting. She knew that he had a long way to go before he was even ready to face loving another woman and that it might never happen, and it might happen with someone who wasn't her. It hurt more than her so called husband's betrayal, cutting like a dull knife into an already gaping wound. She hurt too but she forgot about Angus when she looked into Edward's eyes sometimes.
And then the words were on her tongue; she was poised to tell him that perhaps it was time for her to move on. Yet the thought of parting ways with him seemed to carve deeper. She felt gutted. She hated her part in marrying Angus MacLeod, hated that Angus tried to keep a hold on her despite her willingness to move on. He didn't want her, he wanted her baby. He wanted to take the boy she had raised with the help of the people who took her in when others would have balked at her scandalous past. She couldn't let him take away the light of her life on top of robbing her from a chance to be happy with a man who actually loved so deeply that he blamed himself for something he didn't do.
The young woman didn't feel she was free to even love someone else romantically. "Happily ever after" was an ideal that was a myth. She gave a shuddering breath and slowly moved to her feet, lifting Jacob into her arms to hide the fact she was beginning to tremble from the effort to keep her dignity intact. "I should... put Jacob to bed, Sir... If you will excuse me, please? Have a pleasant evening," her voice was so soft that it was as if she barely said anything at all; barely above a whisper and it was so very strained that the tenson was palpable. She forced her gaze to him for only a moment, the facade she tried so hard to portray, seemed to fall from her face long enough for her very palpable emotion to be painfully evident to anyone who might see her.
Ruth stiffly looked away, and seemed to just... walk away slowly but not with the intent of having him follow her. Her body language could quite easily be interpreted as forced, the way with which she visibly shook but only slightly. She wanted very much to run but her legs felt almost too heavy for her to put one foot in front of the other.
It was as though a soft ringing filled her ears and everything was somewhat echoing about her as she numbly put distance between the two of them before she could make a fool of herself. The only thought she would allow herself to think was that she had no business to feel love for Edward Blackwood. It was at the doorway that she gave pause, her eyes looking almost lifeless as she gave herself that last glance toward him. It was only when she knew he could not see her face that she allowed herself the pained grimace of one whose heart was in turmoil. She then curled her lips inward so hard that it pained her, and she propelled herself forward with as much strength as she could muster.
If he followed at all, it would not be hard to catch up. He was usually in his own world and she didn't expect it of him. She knew beyond the pale that he would only do what his mind would allow him to do. The closer she got to her room, the more she began to gasp and shake. She tried so hard to remain calm but even Jacob was beginning to make noises of protest. Somehow, some way, she made it into her chamber regardless of his choice of actions. She had never felt this deeply before. Her son whimpered in her arms and she whispered an apology before relinquishing her hold upon the poor child by putting into his bed.
Anyone who might have caught sight of her along the way or if he did follow, one would be faced with a door that was wide open, left like that as if in afterthought. They would then see the young woman waver as she walked upon stilted legs, and she would make her way toward her bed before the sounds of her gasping actually became an alarm bell for those who may be nearby. She rolled her eyes somewhat upward toward the ceiling as she took in great gulps of air. Her head nodded forward and she placed her hand upon her abdomen which suddenly felt so constricting. Her eyelids began to flutter and she felt faint for the first time in her life. This wasn't her! This was someone she didn't even recognize within herself!
She didn't realize that she was in the throes of panic, couldn't hear what everyone on the outside could hear at that point. She began to wheeze, She was pale and clearly not present in a mental capacity in that very moment as everything that had been happening since the moment she chose to sneak out of her parent's house.
Ruth could only hear a whistling... she could not hear the fact that her son who picked up on her emotions was crying as babes cried, could not hear anyone who might try to speak to her, even shake her in that moment. Her eyes soon looked faraway and the tears that had been suspended dribbled unchecked down each cheek, first the left and then the right came tentatively after. Her heart was so loud, beating fast and hard against her breast.
This wasn't her, damn it! She began to claw at the buttons to her blouse, her coreset was simply too tight. And then it happened. It was as if someone had snapped their fingers. The breath whooshed out of her, her legs buckled before she could even make it to her bed to sit down. What happened to her over the course of the time from the start of her walking toward her room, and the moment her body slid toward the floor, was only five minutes. In her mind, however, the whole scene took place over the span of a half an hour or so.
