After my encounter with Frank I ran back to my room.
I didn’t care that I was crying as I ran through the halls or that I was hitching my skirts up higher than I should be.
Frank’s anger at me was warranted- in his eyes I was the cruel woman who left a man for his older brother.
Of course that would be seen as vile.
But Arthur’s anger pained me- and it pained me to know that he still loved me.
Because I loved him too.
As I ran I brushed and bumped against people and I didn’t even care to apologize or look back.
When I got to my room I slammed the door shut and fell to the ground a weeping mess.
For five years I had begged the universe to bring Arthur back to me.
I had cried for months every night scared that he was hurt.
I prayed to God that even if Arthur didn’t love me anymore,
