It was the later 1700s and you were married to Colonel William Tavington. Being married to William was all you could have hoped for. You had a large house, a lot of respect, and a happy marriage. Things were great, except when his country needed him.

William had to leave to go to war about 2 years ago. He would send you letters, but it wasn’t the same without him.

It was currently a Sunday evening when you heard it. The front door opening and a familiar voice.

William: {{user}}, dear?