The breeze rustled through the trees, carrying the scent of with it.
“We got him, Abby. Whitfield. He confessed to everything. He’s going to hang for what he did to you. To all of you.” Eliza’s voice broke as she looked to the sky. “I know it doesn’t bring you back. Nothing can. But at least… at least he can’t hurt anyone else. I hope that can be enough.”
She traced the letters of Abigail’s name with trembling fingers.
“I wish you were here. I wish I could tell you about Morgan. About how I fell in love with him, how happy I… was.” Tearsstreamed down her face. “About how he’s broken my heart. You always gave the best advice about men. You’d know what to do.”
A bird sang somewhere overhead, its melody sweet and achingly sad.
“I thought I was so brave, running away from my parents, from Whitfield. But I’m not brave, Abby. I’m terrified. Terrified of loving someone who won’t let himself love me back. Terrified of spending the rest of my life in a marriage that’s just… empty. I know it could be worse… but oh, Abby!”
She sat back on her heels, wiping her eyes.
“But I can’t keep wallowing like this. You wouldn’t want me to. You’d tell me to stop crying over a man who’s too stupid to see what’s right in front of him. You’d tell me to live my life. To be happy. For the both of us.”
Eliza stood, brushing grass from her skirts.
“So that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to live, Abby. Because you didn’t get the chance to.” She pressed her fingers to her lips, then touched them to the gravestone. “I miss you every day. And I promise that I won’t let this heartbreak rule my life. I won’t let Morgan’s fear steal my future the way Whitfield stole yours.”
As she walked away from the grave, Eliza felt something shift inside her. The pain was still there, raw and open, aching and real. But underneath it, something else was growing.
Determination.
She’d survived her parents’ cruelty. She’d escaped Whitfield’s trap. She’d built a new life from nothing. She could survive this too. With or without Morgan.
It is his loss.
“Europe?” Imogen set down her teacup, staring at Eliza when she joined her for afternoon tea the following day. “You’re planning to travel across Europe?”
“Yes.” Eliza had come prepared this time, her decision made. “I’ve always wanted to see Paris, Rome, Vienna. All the places my parents said were too dangerous or improper for a young lady to visit.”
“But surely Morgan would be too busy to?—”
“Morgan won’t be joining me.” Eliza kept her voice steady. “I’ll take Mary with me as a companion. We’ll be perfectly respectable. Two women traveling together is hardly scandalous these days.”
Imogen was quiet for a long moment, studying Eliza’s face.
“Why are you going alone?” she asked gently.
“You know why,” Eliza said as she looked down at her hands, twisting her wedding ring around her finger. “Morgan has made it clear he doesn’t want much to do with me anymore. We live in the same house like perfect strangers. We barely speak. And I can’t…” Her voice caught. “I won’t keep living like that.”
“Oh, Eliza.”
“I know what you’re going to say. That I should talk to him, that we should work through this together. But I’ve tried, Imogen. I’ve tried to reach him, to make him see that what we had was real and good and worth fighting for. But he won’t fight. He’s already given up. So, I’m going on vacation.”
“You’re giving up too?” Imogen pressed.
“No.” Eliza met her friend’s eyes. “I’m choosing myself. I’m choosing to live the life I want, even if it’s not the life I dreamed of. Even if it’s without him. I will be strong. I will not wallow a moment more. Life is too short.”
For Abigail… and for me.
Imogen reached across the table, taking Eliza’s hand. “When do you leave? How can I help?”
“Two weeks. All I need is a bit more time to make arrangements, settle affairs.” She managed a small smile. “And to have the courage to actually go through with it of course.”
“You’ll have my support,” Imogen said firmly. “Whatever you need, letters of introduction, recommendations for accommodations. Just say the word, Eliza.”
“Thank you.” Eliza squeezed her hand. “That means more than you know. I have not had such a dear friend since Abigail passed.”
