When he woke on the eighth morning to the sound of thunder and heavy rain, Christopher groaned and resisted the urge to scream into nothingness. It felt to him that the weather wasa perfect reflection of his mood, and until he found a way to improve said mood, it would only grow worse.
Let it grow worse. Let it drown me. What is even the point anymore? Yes, things might go back to how they were, but do I even want such a thing? Can my life ever be the same as it was?
It was near midday when Christopher heard it.
Walking aimlessly around his home, through the sound of rain and wind, the unmistakable noise of a carriage rattling down the road snapped Christopher to attention.
His heart leapt through his throat, and excitement struck him for the first time in days. Without stopping to consider who it might be, he rushed outside and stood on the balcony, doing his best to keep his smile hidden when he saw a carriage gently trotting down the driveway.
Naturally, Christopher’s first thought was that Rose was coming to see him. He did not know why she might be; he could not fathom what she wanted, but that she was here… it was enough to shatter the funk that had its grip around him, just enough so that Christopher was able to remember what it felt like to be happy again.
And if that isn’t enough of an indication that I have made a horrible mistake, I don’t know what else is…
The rain was heavy, such that it made viewing difficult. Christopher teetered on the edge of the balcony, thinking to dash into the wet because he was certain now that it was Rose. Already, he was imagining what he would tell her, the apology that he would give, while picturing their embrace… and then the carriage doors flew open.
Alistair Locke was the first one out of the carriage. He gasped as the rain struck his face, and he was quick to hurry across the driveway and toward the home, grumbling the whole way.
Theodore Merrick was next, and he laughed to feel the rain on his face. He even stood still for a moment, his head tilted back, allowing the rain to douse him as if it was giving him life.
And Christopher, realizing now that his wife had not come to see him, that there would be no reunion or chance to apologize, reverted quickly to the same mood that he had been in all week. Severe depression.
For the best, I think. It is easy now to imagine a reunion where apologies are given and the past is ignored, but that is not reality. As much as I wish to see my wife and tell her everything, I know there is just no way.
We are, for all intents and purposes, finished.
“Christopher!” Alistair grumbled as he hurried onto the balcony, out of the wet. “Could you have chosen a more isolated location to hide out? And during a worse time?”
“I think it’s rather peaceful.” Theodore strolled through the rain, a smile on his face and a glimmer in his eye. “And the rain adds a little something extra. I like it.”
“You would,” Alistair scoffed.
“I just said as much, didn’t I?”
“Send for a towel,” Alistair said once he was out of the wet. “And have a fire made, won’t you? Before I freeze to death.”
Christopher did not know what his friends were doing here. Nor did he know how they found him. The one thing he did know, that which would not change, was how little he wished to see them right now. Not now, not ever.
“There is already a fire lit inside,” Christopher said simply. “The towel, however, you might have to fetch yourself.”
“What does that mean?” Alistair demanded.
“There are no staff here,” Christopher explained simply. “Meaning that there is no one to fetch you a towel. Sad to say.”
“No staff?” Alistair looked aghast at the mere concept.
“I was not expecting visitors.”
“Still…” Alistair looked to Theodore for support. “Not even a single valet? A chef? I don’t think I’ve ever heard such a thing.”
Christopher shrugged. “I came out here to be alone. Hard to do when there are a dozen staff waiting on you. So, if that is a problem…” He looked through the rain to where the carriage still sat.
Theodore laughed. “I told you that he would not be pleased to see us. Did I not say?”
“You did.”
“If you think some less-than-promising hospitality is going to be enough to scare us away…” Theodore strode into Christopher and slapped him roughly on the back. “I am afraid that you are going to be sorely disappointed.”
“He’s right.” Alistair gave his body a shake, dispensing some of the water. But his coat was soaked through, and his hair was matted and messy. He could not have looked more miserable. “We’re not going anywhere.”
