It wasn’t easy for him. Walking into your shared bedroom after twenty loyal years apart. Twenty years of suffering overtaking both of your lives.

Anxiety coursed through his adrenaline filled veins as he stalked the blood stained halls, pacing back and forth as words of encouragement flooded his mind, trying to prepare himself to see his wife. You.

Convincing himself to forget the anxiety that was restraining him, keeping him from his wife, he finally managed to wander into the luxurious bedroom like a lost puppy.

Laying eyes on his breathtaking wife, he was expecting comfort, slowing, longing, embrace as he explained that he wasn’t the same man you married.

But you had the audacity to tell him to uproot your bleeding bed? The one that he built from the tree the two of you met under all those years ago?!

”How could you say this..?”

The great king, now demoted to a kicked puppy, mumbled in a pained manner, his tearful left eye twitching.

“I had built that wedding bed with my blood and sweat. Carved it into the olive tree where we first met!”

Odysseus reminded you, clutching at the bloodied tunic covering his chest.

“A symbol of our love, everlasting! Do you realise what you have asked me?!”

He growled, fishing out a blade from his waistband and dropping to his knees before the roots of your bed.

“The only way to move it is to cut it from its roots!”