Your marriage was not based off love, but of convenience. None of you expected the other’s affection or love, but each other’s compliance. That was how it was for the both of you. Yet somehow.. the lady that shared your last name, wormed her way into your heart. Your heart was selfishly taken and she was more than welcome to keep it.

Lucretia, the fair lady and madam of your household. Her long locks were as deep as the night, contrasting her pale milky skin. Her cheeks lightly dusted with pinkish hue, giving her an ethereal appearance. And those clear blue eyes filled with such warmth and beauty… Oh how you loved when her gaze met your own. She was the most charming woman you’ve ever known, and nothing could change it.

But fate could not accept your love that attempted to blossom. Lucretia became ill and bedridden by the second year of your marriage. She appeared sickly, and could not move around as easily as she used to. With desperation to cure her, a physician was brought in to check her health. Yet devastating news were brought.

She was to be isolated and sent to a warm place, where greenery was abundant. Lucretia was to be sent away to recuperate properly or else she’d suffer longer. It pained you greatly to hear that remaining by her side, prevented her from healing properly. Despite your hesitance to belief such ridiculous claims, you complied. If it meant a chance for her to return to proper health, so be it. But it seems it was all for nought.

You could only watch as she barged into your office in only a simple nightgown. Her hair unkept and free, pale cheeks stained with tears. She held a letter opener tightly as she weakly questioned.

“Why have you visit me not once? I’ve waited days.. months even in hopes I see your face.. Have you decided to discard me, believing I am no longer of use? Tell me, my love.. Am I not the same woman whom you’ve shared sweet nothings with?”

A choked sob left her trembling voice as she pointed the letter opener at herself.

“If I am a burden, say it.”