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She thought she’d be happy.
She was, don’t misunderstand her. Juliet Capulet was happy to be Romeo Montague's wife. Their relationship had a spark that she had never felt before, a flame which burned in her chest whenever she thought of him. It was the opposite of what she felt when she thought of Paris. Paris was a demand, an expectation. Romeo was freedom, thrilling, yet comforting.
Juliet Capulet was happy to be married to Romeo Monague, but at the same time she was filled with a profound grief. She wasn’t naive, she knew her family wouldn’t accept it. When the truth came out, and it would, everything she ever knew would slip from between her fingers. She wondered if her grip on it were ever that strong to begin with.
Her parents would disown her on the spot. Her father would yell, call her a failure, a whore and a traitor. Her mother would say nothing, she wouldn’t need to. Unlike her fathers loud, empty words, her mother could share a millions in a single look. Words that would tell her she was a disappointment, that she could have done so much better, that she is no longer her mothers daughter. Maybe she never was.
Then there was Tybalt. God, Tybalt. Unlike what everyone seemed to think, Juliet and her cousin grew up quite close. When they were young, Tybalt would visit often. They got along well, considering the nearly 5 year separating them. When Juliet was young, before her mother began to mold her into the womanly ideal she was meant to be now, they would spend the day play fighting. Using sticks as their swords, they would imagine themselves to be noblemen and women fighting pirates and thieves and of course Montagues. They had been too young to understand the feud, nuance lacking in their young minds, as well as in their parents'. It was a game to them, and if their family walked in on their games? Well, they never said a thing. Eventually though, around the time a 13 year old Tybalt came to live with them permanently, they had to face reality.
While Juliet was being prepped for marriage, Tybalt was taught how to bear a sword like a man. They were told that they were facing the real world, though Juliet suspected that she had yet to truly see it. And Tybalt? He became more violent and overconfident, and his obsession with the feud only grew. A part of Juliet believed that Tybalt never really stopped seeing it as a game. But their own games? They stopped, and Tybalt and Juliet grew apart. Strangers in the same house.
She rested her head back against the wall, tears stinging at her eyes. She took a breath. What did it matter if she cried? Why should she care about disgracing her family? She had already committed the worst sin in their eyes. Did keeping up her image matter? And in the privacy of her own room at that.
She let her head fall forward, silent tears formed in her eyes and cascadeed down her cheeks. She had expected the marriage to be joyful, but now she was somehow joyous and devastated, both emotions battling for the forefront of her mind.
“Juliet your mother wants you to—“
Her head snaps up to where Tybalt is standing in the doorway, wide eyed as he took in her disheveled appearance.
Curse his bad timing.
She jumped up from where she was sitting, smoothing out her dress with her hands. She went to wipe the tears from her eyes, “Tybalt, my apologies I—“ she was cut off when Tybalt grabbed her wrist, turning her to face him.
“What’s wrong?” He said, and Juliet could already see the anger forming on his face, the desire for a fight winning over any sensibility. That was the last thing she wanted to deal with.
“It’s nothing, Tybalt. What did my Mother need?” She feigned indifference, but Tybalt still wouldn’t let her go.
“Clearly something happened. Who did this to you? I swear if some Montague hurt you I will—“ Juliet shoved him away.
“God Tybalt stop! Just stop!” He froze, but Juliet continued, her voice breaking, “It’s always about a fight with you, Montague this Montague that! You have such hate in your heart, I won’t be able to bear it when it turns on me!” She bit her lip and turned away, trying to contain the tears which were once again flowing.
“When It— Juliet I would never hate you.” Tybalt said. It was difficult to find it comforting when she could still feel the lingering anger in his tone. She knew it wasn't directed at her, it might as well be. She didn't turn to look at him when he placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Yes, you would.” She whispered.
“Juliet…”
“No. You would.” She repeated. The surety in her own voice pained her, “That's just how it works when you’re a Capulet, Tybalt. We claim to love each other, but I don't even know what love is meant to feel like. The only thing I know this family loves is their precious feud. More than they love me. More than you love me.” Her voice was shaking again, her words taking on a life of their own. Her voice raised as she turned to fully face Tybalt, pressing an accusatory finger to his chest.
“You can hate me. You will hate me.” She was almost screaming, “Everyone will hate me and I can't stand it. I can't stand it. I can't—“ As the words and the sobs became indistinguishable she fell forward into Tybalt's chest.
She felt him gently wrap his arms around her and she wanted to keep screaming. To tell him the truth, to see him turn away from her in disgust and get it all over with. But the sobs had taken control of her body, she couldn’t speak if she tried.
She couldn’t change her family, she couldn’t stop the inevitable, she couldn’t simply be happy.
But for a moment, she could pretend.
So when her legs crumpled beneath her, she let Tybalt catch her. She leaned into his chest and cried, for all that she was losing, for all that was to come. She supposed she might as well let this be her farewell to the life she one knew.
A minute or two passed and Tybalt pulled back, the game was over and she returned to reality. Tybalt never having known they were playing pretend to begin with.
She wiped her face on her sleeve, “what was it my mother wanted?”
Tybalt, albeit hesitantly, took that as his sign to leave, “Don’t worry about it,” he said as he stood up, “I can cover for you.”
Juliet nodded in thanks. Just before Tybalt turned into the hall though, he looked back.
“I will never hate you. You will always have a place as a Capulet.”
Oh, how she wished she could believe that.