Chapter Text
Was God listening?
If anyone could explain to you the meaning of love, he was the only one.
You sat on the corner of the abandoned house, trying not to see the bloody scars and dried tears. The house wasn't so noisy, and it was filled with cries and inaudible words, but you decided to recall the time when you were by her side. There was no one there to call it pathetic.
Your hand brushed past her cheek, leaving a mark no one could see.
There was an indescribable feeling between this relationship which neither you nor she could talk about carelessly. It was her job to get into the sheets with men, and you perfectly understood that. But she always came to you after everything was over, after sunrise. She leaned her head against your shoulder. It was nothing but pureness between one woman and another.
You paused your recollection, shivering at the bitter cold of the abandoned mining town. But it wasn't over and rather you got deeper into it.
The touch of her hand caressed against yours, and you both smiled. She wasn't perfect, but she filled the empty space next to you perfectly. You slowly soaked into it without knowing it was love.
And, or however, one more thing you had to understand here was the fact that you weren't the only one who had feelings for her. He wandered around her tent day after day, trying to catch the glimpse of her. He put her thin, pretty hand to his lips where he confessed his love. You saw it all, but there was nothing you could say here. They disappeared behind the tent, and the lights went out.
Her menstruation stopped. She no longer had her hair down and began to wear a skirt long enough to hide her feet. She no longer held your hand. Bitterness wetted your tongue. Everything was a mistake.
Her stomach swelled day by day. He no longer kissed her. She wept in your arms and you couldn’t kiss her in the name of love anymore. Everything was a mistake.
There was the sound of a newborn crying out loud. The baby boy was wrapped in a white cloth. She named him Jack. A month later, her "lover" ran away at dawn. Nevertheless, her last name wasn’t Marston after all of it happened.
You were there for her, holding her and drying her tears. That night she led you behind the tent she once used to be with him. Her fingers and yours tangled again. The sweetness on your lips and her little smile was all you remembered. That one year was near eternity.
One year. He didn’t disappear for good. You heard the sound of hooves at dawn and saw his face.
Your daydream cut off. The cry and the rustling of the clothes began to ring in your ears again. You looked up, and there were two women sitting in front of you. Mrs. Adler, and her. The wife was constantly crying from the moment the men had rescued her, and Abigail was comforting her like a lovely woman she was. Soon she got up from her seat and walked up to you.
“Hey,” She opened her mouth, holding your hand. “Can I ask you a favor?”
“Go ahead.” You answered, trying to ignore the lump in your throat.
“Can you look after Mrs. Adler? I got to keep an eye on John. You know, he’s in a bad condition…” She slurred her words at the end.
“Sure.” You said, replacing her seat beside Mrs. Adler. Abigail walked out of the house, and the woman next to you glanced at you with red, puffy eyes. Comforting a person wasn’t your best strength, but you patted her on the back as Abigail did. A cry broke out, the blond hair covered her face.
“It’s alright,” You whispered. “Have a good cry. It’s alright.”
She buried her face in her hands as you said it. She was falling apart and all you could do here was hold her hand as you did with Abigail. Mrs. Adler wasn't her, but by doing so you wanted her to calm down as soon as possible. After all, this was better than drowning in memories of the past. As your fingers brushed past her hair, she raised her head and looked at you. You answered her soundless question by wiping away her tear-stained cheeks with warm fingers.
“Everything’s going to be alright.” You assured.