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"So, I saw you yesterday." A man in his late thirties sputtered as he sat in a high backed chair. Behind him was a young woman, all of nineteen years of age. She seemed to have a look on her face that meant something was wrong. Something was wrong. "Oh?" was all she could mutter. He turned the chair around and faced her, the anger burning in his eyes. "What were you doing with him? What were you doing with the admiral?" He said in a rather low, grumbly voice. Ruth could see the anger. She wanted to look away from him, but couldn't. "He's a friend of mine Peter. Am I not allowed to have friends?" She nearly purred, her voice was distant. She knew she was defeated. He couldn't stop himself now, no not without having to make Ruth feel small for her actions. She had wanted to cry, and she began to shed a few tears.
"You are cheating on me! You have been this entire fucking time!" He spat out. To Peter, this recent discovery had gone against his constitution. To Peter, marriage should remain full of love. True, his marriage was a joke; but even he acknowledged the fact that they both were not ready for this commitment. Ruth DeWitt was sixteen when Peter first met her at the Brattleboro Girls School. He was visiting a certain Anne Morrow, who happened to be the mother of one of Ruth's closest friends; Victoria. He was walking down the front walk of Mrs. Morrow's home when he noticed two girls, both clad in Brattleboro school uniforms; one of them had black hair, the other auburn. He watched them walk down the street when suddenly, the auburn haired girl tripped. Being the gentleman he was, he ran to her aid. She didn't cry or show tears, no in fact she was downright scared. Ruth's school was very strict in the fact that everything that could possibly considered joyful, was banned. Peter remembered those times, and closed his eyes.
He didn't want to do this.
"How long has this been going on Ruth? I want to know the truth." He said, his voice calming down. Ruth waited for him to stop before she would speak. "I've been seeing Sam since July. There I said it. Are you happy?" He looked at her and opened his mouth. "Ruth, the only option for you is to leave. Leave me in peace. If you're happy with him, so be it." Ruth wasn't prepared for this.
Where had this come from? Why was Creedon giving up so easily? Ruth had no clue as to why Peter backed off. She then watched him do something most peculiar: he wrung his hands and shook. He spoke up again; "Ruth, I'll expect you to sign the papers in a few weeks, so you had better not go too far from here. I know Sam lives in Newport. Your ferry ticket back to the mainland will be bought by me, do you understand?"
Ruth turned and left the east parlour and headed up the stairs. When she undressed in the guest room, she broke down into tears; her world was coming down.
"What will mother and father say? They'll call me a whore!"
"Poor Sam, Peter's going to kill him."
These thoughts entered her mind. While she slipped on her nightdress and turned down the bed, even more thoughts came into her head;
"We were going to have children together. We were going to have a son and a daughter."
"Oh mama, please spare me your wrath. I'm going to try to be a good wife. I hope you don't disown me."
Downstairs, Peter was doing something that he hadn't done since he was a child: he cried. His sobs were not audible upstairs, but it was quite obvious that the betrayal had gotten to him.
"I lost this battle. The mighty Creedonian general has fallen! Who is your general now?!" He screamed. He took a tea service set that had been given to him from Ruth's parents and threw it at the wall. China flew everywhere.
He was upset. Anger was something that not even the best of general's could hide. He was sad to see Ruth go, he would miss her.