When people write poems about losing the one their soul loves, they never feel the same fulfillment as they do when they write about anything else. That’s because there is no way to accurately describe those feelings. Words can never do those feelings justice. Christine cried without stopping for two hours after Thomas came to tell her of James’ death. She was full of pain, full of remorse….but most of all, she was full of regret. She hadn’t cried since then, nor had she felt any emotions. It had been two weeks since the news when Christine’s mother came to her house. Thomas was there that day, helping her send letters to extended family and friends about James. The last thing Christine needed was her mother coming to call, but she came anyway. She knocked on the door and Thomas went to answer it. Lady Octania looked him up and down and immediately spoke, “Thomas, why aren’t you wearing that strapping suit I bought you last week-”

  “This is my home mother….I don’t need to be impressed. Besides, suits are just a way of making men seem more important than they actually are,” Christine interrupted, staring at the wall across from her

  Lady Octania walked through the door.

  “Hello mother,” Christine said

  “Hello dear,” Lady Octania responded, trying but failing to sound empathetic, “how are you-”

  “Horribly,” Christine looked at her mother, “thank you for your concern”

  Lady Octania took no note of her daughter’s honesty, she only sat down on the couch across from her.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “I was asking how you are progressing, not how you are doing. Those are two very different things, you know. I have a few suggestions-”

  “Lady Octania,” Thomas mumbled, “I’m not sure this is the best time for-”

  “This is the perfect time!” she said coldly, “you need to listen to my words Christine, I have been through a loss like this and it will only get better from here, I assure you. So let’s get on with it! Your father left me with nothing but a broken heart and all I could do was progress. You-”

  “Enough!” Christine shouted, “I will no longer tolerate this….this verbal abuse and petty suggestions!”

  The room fell still.

  “My father didn’t deserve the likes of you,” Christine continued, “I’m unsure of how he even put up with your state of being for so many years. We may not have married for love, but one of us found it….and I’m sorry that you couldn’t. That did not give you the right to make sure I didn’t find a loving husband, and I did….that was taken away from me….very suddenly and unexpectedly….so I will take as long as I need to recover from it….”

  Christine’s voice started strong as she told her mother what she’d been thinking for years, but her voice wavered when she talked about James. She fell silent before she could finish. Thomas got up.

  “No wait!” Christine stood, overwhelmed by what she’d been holding back for so long

  He stopped near the door.

  “Please stay,” she started to cry

  Thomas rushed over to her and sat her back down. He tried to signal to Lady Octania that she should leave. She did no such thing and stayed put until Thomas said, “you may excuse yourself, Lady Octania”

  She did, with an immature pout, and almost got to the door when she stopped. She made a strange sound, horror and relief mixed in her head.

  “Please,” Christine had stopped crying, “Mother, please leave”

  She went to see what Lady Octania was looking at. It was the window down the hall in the library. Barely visible, as far as the eye could see, a man ran on the hill seen through the window. Christine could barely make out his figure….but she’d recognize it anywhere.