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“Mama,” Phillip cried, desperation evident in his voice as he crashed into her body. She held her son in her arms, rubbing one hand on his back while running the other through his gorgeous little curls. He nuzzled his face into her shoulder, comforted by the grip of her embrace. He eased into her more, letting his body relax.
“Phillip,” she said, leaning her cheek on the top of his head, “what happened, my baby?” She could feel his unsteady breathing with her hand placed on her back. Whatever was troubling him became all too much. He let himself cry into her shoulder.
“I just don’t understand Mama.” He said, his voice strained. She only pulled him in closer as he found himself trying to hold back more tears. “What they’re saying,” he said, crumpling the paper he held in his fist, “how could they say those things?” A tinge of nerves rose in Eliza’s stomach. She wanted to ask what things exactly would be troubling him so much, but she held her son in her arms.
He mumbled into her shoulder, sniffling, and wiping his tears on her. “Don’t worry my darling,” she said. She shushed him lightly, rubbing his back until his breathing felt normal again. She coaxed the papers from his hands, sticking them in the pocket of her dress. His gaze was cast down until she lifted his chin to have him look her in the eyes. “It’s going to be okay my love,” she said as she wiped the tears falling along his cheeks. She kissed his forehead, reminding him of her love, until he retreated to his room.
Except she didn’t know what to think. She couldn’t possibly imagine what he heard that made him feel this emotional. As he left her line of sight, she quickly fished the papers from her dress pocket. She smoothed out the crumpled pages, “Charge of speculation, against Alexander Hamilton,” her throat tightened, she continued “ fully refuted, written by himself.” Whatever was within these damned few pages, she knew couldn’t be good.
Why wouldn’t he tell her he was going to publish something? Eliza began reading her husband’s words, his voice was all too familiar even in text. Why would he need to defend himself? His words were, as always, complex and intricate. Every single word written had a purpose, whether it was to accurately make his point, or to distract the reader and have them go off onto some sort of tangent. He knew what he was doing. What exactly had he done? Her fingers ran over the pages. Her trust in him began breaking slowly, as the thought of him leaving her out of this important decision crossed her mind. She knew him...didn’t she?
She reached the section of the accusation posed against him. “ My real crime is an amorous connection with his wife…” She stopped. A moment of disbelief grew within her, but then the tightening of her throat and the tears began to make themselves evident. His words were simple, nonchalant, as if it wasn’t something that wouldn’t haunt her for the rest of her life. As she read, her husband had the audacity to map out the woman’s situation, her actions, and his own actions. Almost as if they had a meaning less than what he was giving them. He mentioned Eliza being away on her trip to see her father. So simply, so factually, as if her presence meant nothing to him.
Tears began to well in Eliza’s eyes. She heard footsteps approaching but couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of the words in front of her.
“Mama…” her daughter’s voice brought her out of her thoughts, “What is happening? I heard Phillip crying in his room.” Eliza quickly wiped her tears. “Are you—” Eliza rushed over and cupped her daughter’s cheeks in her palms.
“My darling,” Eliza sniffled, “I am just fine, my love.” She picked up her daughter in her arms. “Your father is a very smart man,” she began, “but sometimes things just happen that we don’t understand…” Eliza said. She tried to convince herself of her words. Almost the way Alexander had attempted to do, not only to himself, but to the entire city.
She began carrying her daughter back to her room. Angie tucked her head into the crook of Eliza’s neck. The feeling of being held so tight warmed her up, almost taking away the pain of the realizations yet to come. She sighed. “What kind of things Mama?” Angie asked with a yawn. They entered her room and reached her bed.
“Things neither you nor I know, my little one.” Eliza replied, as she lied her daughter down and tucked her in. Her daughter snuggled against the sheets, looking at her mother with her eyelids heavy with exhaustion. “Everything will be alright,” Eliza said with a kiss to her forehead, “goodnight my darling.”
“Goodnight Mama.” Angie said. A yawn crossed her little face before beginning to drift off to sleep. “I love you.”
Eliza’s heart began to warm and ache at the same time. “I love you too,” she whispered back as she got up and blew out the lamp.
She stood in her daughter’s doorway for a moment. She gave life to a small smile as her beautiful baby girl lay there without a worry in the world. But quickly, the thought of what was to come made her stomach churn and the pang in her chest returned.
As she closed the door, and faced Phillip’s bedroom and sighed. He had been in there for a while trying to muffle his cries under the covers, no doubt, but she wasn't sure if he had fallen asleep or not. Just then she heard him snoring, just as Alexander did when he actually slept. The thought of him being like his father made her happy, but then again the sinking feeling kept trying to creep back around her. She noticed his lamp was still on so she went into his room. She entered, fixed him under his covers, blew out the lamp, and closed the door without a trace.
When she returned to the living room alone, she had no other choice but to accept the truth. The last thing that she wanted to believe was that Alexander would write something so dreadful and expose it to the entire world. She knew Philip had been caught in the backlash that evening, and that her daughter would not understand why so many people hated her father. But the truth was sitting right there on the table.
She brought the papers out again, letting in a sharp breath.
Usually, she believed the messes of Alexander’s problems would stay at work, at most confined to his office at home, but these papers infiltrated her home. They came to wreak havoc on her family, and strip away her ability to protect them. Not only that, but they deprived her of her character and intellect. Elizabeth Hamilton was now painted clueless to an affair involving her husband; a lonely woman too oblivious and passive for anyone to care. He had left them all to defend themselves, and her family was depending all on her now.
The words on the pages were all too familiar; the strung-up sentences, the vocabulary, the charm all screamed his name. It was the type of writing she had looked over all her life. Here and there, when he allowed her to, really, or when he was so fixated, he didn’t notice, she would gaze over his shoulder watching as his mind ran rapidly across the pages. How the quill in his hand bent at his will. He was a miraculous sight to behold in those moments. But just as easily as he could sweep her off her feet, she knew he could demolish all her faith in him in the blink of an eye.
From the beginning, he had made it his motive to dazzle his audience with his charisma. But with details he aided his case refuting any accusations thrown his way. It was easy for her to read right through his words. It was almost as if he were speaking right in front of her. He had gained a fabricated sense of pleasure through it all, proving his innocence, if he could even call it that. When she got to the details of him meeting with the other woman, she read her name, and their actions together. And just like that her trust crumbled. The words sent a burning throughout her body from her chest to her throat and through her fingertips. Eliza moved her hand, from clutching the front of her evening gown to her mouth, just barely suppressing a cry. Just like that, he had agreed to throw away everything they had together. Tears blurred her vision, and as they found their way down her cheeks, splotching the words on the page.
She imagined the memories of the life they shared, vanishing from his mind as that woman pulled him close to her. Their family, her, their love, becoming nothing once her lips were on his. At that moment, things had changed for him. That woman’s payment changed to being his pleasure instead. Eliza’s breath was sharp and quivery as all the realizations became clearer. She set down the papers, gazing up at the ceiling as if they would disappear when she looked back down. And that is when the tears started spilling over. She attempted to compose herself enough to continue on reading.
On the page, he mentioned Eliza and her children leaving to visit her father. While Alexander coordinated frequent meetings at his home with this woman, and later on he circled back around to discuss how intercourse continued in the meantime with this woman. The tightness in her throat became even more unbearable, and her brows furrowed in confusion. She was unaware of the length of time, the feelings he held for this woman, and the ones she had for him too. All of these details were unbeknownst to her until now. She had always suspected he cheated, and there were things that Alexander had done that only added to the suspicion, but here it was on paper written by the fraud himself.
***
Eliza watched her son play back his practice piece on their family piano. In the chair by the window, she looked up at him in awe. She and Angie listened as she combed through her daughter’s hair. Angie swayed in the chair, smiling as she played with the doll in her hands making it dance. She was barely old enough to say a few words, but she knew her brother was talented.
Phillip concentrated with all his might. He was determined to get the notes just right for the women he loved with all of his heart. He slipped up on the last few lines, grunting when he missed a note. By no means was it an easy piece, but he had been practicing for weeks now, hoping to get it just right before they were off to his grandfather’s. He finished the piece, lowering his hands from the piano, not looking up at either of them.
Angie bursted out clapping and cheering. “Phillip, that was so beautiful! Even my dolly thought so!” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “and she prefers the harp…she’s fancy like that.” Her mother had finished her hair. She ran over to her brother with a smile to show him just how her doll felt.
Philip turned toward her and let out a small smile and laugh. “Well,” he said, “I am honored to have had the pleasure of playing for Miss Emily.” He booped his sister’s nose and she giggled. And then she was on her way to say goodbye to the rest of her toys until she was to return.
“My love,” Eliza began. She saw Phillip’s shoulders droop and he looked up at her reluctantly. “You put on a spectacular performance.” She gave him a warm smile as she approached him. “You know that piece was advanced, it is going to take time to get it perfect.” She lifted up his chin and caressed his cheek.
“You’re just saying that because you’re my mother.” He said, shaking his head. He gently moved her hand from his cheek. “I could have done better, I just need to practice some more.”
“You sound just like your father,” Eliza said. “You both are so hard on yourself. If you can’t wait until we come back home, bring your music with you. My parents would love to hear you play.” Her son smiled and started to pack them away.
Footsteps began to descend the stairs. She heard her daughter let out a scream of happiness and a few giggles. Her heart bursted with warmth at the sound. She met the culprit of said screams at the bottom of the stairs. “Why does Phillip sound just like me, ma chère?” Alexander’s voice still gave her butterflies when he spoke to her in french, and especially when he played with their children. His daughter squeezed onto him tight begging him to come along with them. “I am sorry my sweet girl, your father has some work to do. I wish I could.”
“Always working,” Eliza said, coaxing her daughter out her father’s arms. “She is not the only one who wishes you could come.” She said, her eyes staring straight into his. He looked right back into hers, feeling the heat and the longing she was sending his way. “Children, say your goodbyes to your father, I will meet you in the carriage.” They said their goodbyes and headed outside with their bags.
“Please my love, come with us,” she said, in desperation. She caressed his face in one palm and his hand in the other. “There’s a beautiful lake not too far from my father’s house. We could go and…” her hand slid up his arm and to his chest, “my parents could watch the children while we spent some alone time together…” His breath caught his throat and smiled. He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed it.
“You know I would, I just…” he started. He couldn’t find the rest of the words, because she already knew. She knew he was making excuses for his work, the way he always did. “I am sorry.” He said, pressing a kiss to her forehead and then a gentle one to her lips. “Next time, I promise.” She released him slowly as their hands eventually broke with the distance.
They all waved goodbye to him from the carriage and they were off, far far away from Alexander left all alone…
***
Her mind began ripping her heart into pieces. All the possibilities that occurred when that woman arrived at her home in the coming days following her absence. She imagined how he would invite her in. How when she offered herself to him, he must have smoothed his hands along the curves of her body. How he must have led her up the stairs. The way he probably pushed her onto the wall in their bedroom, and kissed her with such fervor. By that time, he would have known her. It would have been second nature to him, and he would have known exactly what to do to her.
Eliza’s heart begged her to stop, but her mind continued. She stared blankly at the pages, sinking into a hell that she couldn’t escape. Her mind ran wild, picturing his lips on her neck, his hands loosening her corset, both of them itching to get the clothes off of the other. Fingers, his wedding ring and all, finally finding her skin as she wrapped her legs around him, as he carried her to their bed. Him getting on top of her, kissing her. The lips that she had kissed goodbye, trailing down that girls’ body, dominating her, pleasing her. She knew her husband’s need to feel in control, his avidity for passion. That girl must have given him more than he knew what to do with. That girl, awoken him sensually, contented his need for adventure. Something he knew was so wrong, yet dangerously delectable, how could he possibly resist?
She felt like nothing, like she was no longer adequate to give him what he needed. When they were young, he made her feel like she was the only one in the world that he wanted. He had a way of showing it. He had a way of saying I love you in the little things he did. Kisses on her body, they way he felt every inch of her body causing tingles everywhere. She knew them all like the back of her hand. But lately, things hadn’t felt the same. Who was she kidding, things hadn’t felt the same since he cheated. She may not have known all this time, but in the way that he held her at a distance, and his lack of affection, especially in the coming days before the publication.
It felt like her past was being destroyed little by little. She read how his vanity and her situation ‘clouded’ his sensibility. He wrote about how he had become entangled, possibly fond of this woman, and wary that a sudden interruption of their actions would cause her grief. The ache in her chest just kept getting stronger and she tried her best to conceal a groan at the present pain. She clutched the papers harder, as the reality of their relationship became clearer. Their relationship wasn’t just a one-time thing, but it continued for an entire year. Whatever that first meeting consisted of was enough to make him flee back to her. Had he really developed real feelings for this woman? Was he even the same man that she had married? Did he ever really love her like he said, or was it all just an illusion? She began questioning everything.
What had she done to deserve this? Eliza had tried to be the understanding and doting wife that she was raised to be. Everything she did she did for him and their children. The only thing she could think of was that her effort, maybe even she, simply wasn’t good enough. She was too plain and boring for someone as marvelous as him.
A feeling of emptiness was swirling through her body. Without her own knowledge she lit the fireplace, going through the motions. A feeling of numbness in her brain engulfed her thoughts. Question after question, going back in time, as she tried to figure out if any of this had been real. Her gaze floated over to a small desk in the corner of the room. Beneath it was a crate that contained all of the letters Alexander had written her. A sense of hope filled her for a split second as she recalled the contents of the letters. But soon, the doubt caught up with her, and her hope burned to ashes .
Before she knew it, she had dragged the crate over to the coffee table between the couch and the fireplace. Letter after letter, she scattered them on the table. She read everything over and over searching for a sign that one day he would hurt her like this. She couldn’t help but feel how foolish she must have been to stay with him, if she had only known. It felt like he never really cared. No matter how many times he made her swoon over his letters, it was all a lie. She couldn’t help but think that when he said that he was hers, that he never really meant it. No matter how much she loved him, he was just playing her, this entire time. Their entire lives. How could she be so blind?
It felt as if the memories caught fire, slowly burning and disintegrating into ashes. The fire in her mind seemed to spread around her, engulfing anything and everything into the flames, except for her. They didn’t drag her down no matter how much she begged them to. Instead they left her there to suffer as everything she loved, everything she lived for, died in the flames.
Lost in thought, she barely heard the rattle of the front door as it opened followed by footsteps that she knew all too well, Alexander’s. Footsteps that just yesterday she would have jumped at the sound of and ran to the door for. He would have dropped his bags at the door, watching her come to him. A smile would have graced his lips, as she would’ve crashed into him knocking him slightly off balance as she would press her body against his. He would have pulled her in as tight as possible, and she would have nuzzled her face in his neck and he into hers. Holding her close, he would smell the rose oils she would use on her body, and his hands would find her waist. She would release from the tight hug, then he would slowly let go, guiding his hands up to her face. And he would look into her eyes. Those deep, beautiful brown eyes like little black holes reeling him in leaving no way for escape.
Those eyes would have held all the love in the world for him as they always had since the day she met him. He would thumb her jaw, as she would smile as she would let herself lean in toward him for a kiss. Her smile would meet his, as their lips would blend together like second nature. It wasn’t much, but it was their moment that happened more often than not.
This time though, reality hit. That moment didn’t mean anything to him anymore, just a common occurrence to just wave off. It wasn’t theirs, not since that woman, his lips hadn’t been the same. But perhaps, all their moments were just occurrences, nothing special to him, for what did he know about their love?
Alexander noticed the flicker of the fireplace as he entered the house. The sound of uneven breathing, with tiny sniffles in between, escaped to the entryway. He dropped his bags, hanging his head as he stared at the floor, gently taking a few steps forward. His path was jagged. His heart wanted him to go to her and fix everything, but his mind wanted to drag him away and forget any of this ever happened. He hung his coat in the walkway, then walked toward the door frame of the living room entrance and rested his head on it. His eyes met Eliza’s body facing the fireplace. Her delicate frame was slumped over, rising and falling. He observed her as she smeared the tears across her face with the back of her hand, attempting to stop crying, but instead just giving into the sorrow.
He picked himself up off of the door frame and began walking toward her. The uncontrollable thumping in his chest distracted him, clouding his brain of any thoughts that he had. He could have sworn that she heard it, as he approached her. He tried to speak, unaware of the slight shaking in his voice as he said her name out loud. It was quiet, no reply came back to him. He rubbed the back of his neck at his loss for any other words, searching for them somewhere deep in his brain, anything. He walked around the edge of the couch on the other end, hoping that the words would just appear out of nowhere.
Eliza rose from the couch, finding what little strength she had left in her body. They stood in silence across from each other for a moment, with the fireplace crackling as their eyes met. The orange glow lit the left side of her face, and he caught a glimpse of the puffiness of her eyes as tears still formed. He looked at her, heaving air in and out, watching the tension in her neck as she breathed.
When he looked into her eyes, he saw all of his broken promises, all at once. The promise to never let her down, the promise to love her forever, and his promise to be true. A mix of brokenness and disgust appeared on her face. His stomach burned with guilt, and his chest felt like it was tightening so much that he couldn’t breathe. He wanted to run as far away as he could. He wasn’t ready to face her, he never would be.
All that had actually transpired hadn’t really hit him until that moment. He dragged his hands along his face, knowing what he had done. He knew what he had done, what he had written, and with the intent which he had written it. Although he wasn’t so sure about that any longer.
For years, he had kept this secret from her, an attempt to protect her from all the pain he knew he would have caused her if he told her the truth. Or so he told himself. He had kept it a secret, so she would never have to feel like this, so he would never have to see her like this. But there it was, on paper, this secret that he did so much to hide, right there in the midst of them.
It was as if a hand was pressing on his chest, denying him the ability to speak. He mustered up enough air to speak her name again, “Eliza…” He intended on saying more, something he was known for, not shutting up. For once in his life he couldn’t pinpoint the words he was looking for. He reached for her hand, hoping something, anything, would come from her touch. The words always seemed to find their way to him, when he could feel the smoothness of her skin on his. She was his center, his focus, his peace.
“Don’t touch me…” she said, barely audible. The pain was apparent, laced with the exhaustion, as she spoke. She pulled her hand away from him, back into her orbit near her chest. There her body was in her control, they were real, they were right there in front of her. Her fingers fiddled with each other at first and then found her necklace around her neck. “Alexander, just stop.”
He gazed at her, and his chin puffed causing a frown to appear on his face. What was there that he could say? Eliza’s eyes helplessly searched for something from the man she thought she knew. “Do you understand what you have done?” she said, her eyes glared straight into his. He tried to speak but he couldn’t find anything to say.
She couldn’t stand to look at him. The anger was seeping out of her as she did her best to restrain her voice and her actions. “What the hell were you thinking? Were you even thinking at all? Please Alexander, tell me, what was going on in that mind of yours?” She waited and waited for him to say something, her patience was wearing thin.
He tried to muster up something, wanting to calm her down. “Eliza, please…” His hands covered his face, before returning in front of him. He was attempting to wave them in a ‘slow down’ sort of manner. “Let me explain…”
Her weight shifted forward, her arms crossing her body. “ I would really love to hear what you have to say since you went out and blurted to the entire world our own personal details, Alexander.”
“You know,” He said, figuring out the words to say one by one, “you know this was for the kids.”
He was so sure about that statement the entire time he had been writing the pamphlet. They were the thing in the back of his mind, he was sure of it. But as he said those words out loud to his wife, standing inches away, the doubt began to creep in.
“Really? You did this for the kids?” She scoffed and rolled her eyes in disbelief. “I can’t believe you.” The end of her words were getting muffled. She gritted her teeth and shook her head.
“Yes,” Alexander’s voice was wavy with sudden guilt. “Why is that so hard to--” She cut him off.
“Why is that so hard to believe?” Her eyes turned to little slivers of brown as her shoulders rose and fell with disappointment. “Well, first of all, I don’t understand how blurting out the details of your affair to the entire world will protect the children from scrutiny. If anything it will just cause them even more humiliation than their father already has.”
“Eliza,” He said interjecting, “you are not listening to me…” It was a grave mistake on his part, it only made Eliza burn more with anger.
“Oh, you want to talk about not listening, Alexander?” She said, ready to fire his words right back at him. “Sure, let’s talk about it. Let’s talk about how you take into consideration everything your wife throws at you. Because you definitely listen to me Alexander.”
He was silent, staring at the ground as she moved in closer to him. “You don’t know how to listen, Alexander. You don’t know how to take in anyone else’s opinions but your own.”
The tension in the air was rising, and the constant criticism that Eliza was handing Alexander was way more than he expected. He had enough already that day, and she was just adding onto the fire. He tightened his jaw as he let her continue.
“You don’t know a damn thing about paying attention to your wife.” She felt the tears welling up inside of her eyes. The ball in her throat returned and she choked on the next words out of her mouth. “ You ignore me day in and day out. You make me feel worthless, like I don’t deserve to be loved.”
Her heart was breaking all over again. The frustration and anger she had been holding in from her husband all this time, had broken her. The tears began streaming down her face and the feeling of weakness had overwhelmed her. She resented the tears, but there was nothing she could do to hold them in. She breathed in deeply. The breaths were shaky and heavy. They held all of the weight of years of loneliness she had felt now. The years of questioning her worth, his love for her, and the ever present feeling like she was going crazy. She looked him straight in the eyes.
“ Fuck you Alexander…” She slowly breathed those words right into his face. Her warm breath fogged his glasses just slightly and spread across his face. The warmth sent tingles across his face and suddenly his own body surged with heat. He grabbed her wrists with much more force that he was aware of.
Those were words Eliza rarely, if ever used. The wife of Alexander Hamilton, the prestigious princess of New York. She was so prim and proper, that no one could imagine such harsh words ever crossing her tongue. And yet, the fury and ache inside of her spit out those words without her questioning it. Forget being civil, this was her heart, it was her pain and she didn’t care what came after that. What else could hurt her after this.
“Don’t you dare talk to me like that .” His voice was deep, stern and right in her face. A sudden surge of fear ran through Eliza’s body. At first her body was stiff at the sudden jolt. Her eyes grew wide, and a mixture of anger and complete sadness filled them. Then her body went limp. She gave into whatever he was thinking about doing to her. A sort of numbness went across her, and she couldn’t care less what happened to her at this point. She wasn’t even sure she would feel it if he decided to hit her. They stayed like this for a few moments.
Though livid with anger at himself and the situation more than Eliza, he looked into her eyes. He had seen the shift she went through in a matter of seconds. The sudden lack of caring that went through her body. His heart broke for her, and finally realized what he had done. He released his grip on her and stepped back. He walked away toward the fireplace and slammed his fist into the wall near it. Trying to form his thoughts once again. Eliza pulled her arms back into her small frame, massaging her wrists.
He didn’t understand how he could put his hands on his wife like that. He had never, in all the years they had been married, ever held her in his hands like he just did. They had never had a fight to this extent before. Eliza examined him, shaken with fear now at a person she did not recognize. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry, that he would never do that again, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know how to trust himself anymore.
They stood in silence for a moment. The fire blazed between the two of them. The sound crackling was the only thing that filled the moments in between their words. Eliza bravely broke the silence. “Did you,” she whispered, “did you love her?” Her stomach turned at the possible answers he could give. He looked up at her with disbelief in his eyes. Every millisecond passing by until he answered made her stomach curl even more.
“Eliza…” He was cautious with his words. “I wanted to tell you, I really did…”
Her jaw tightened, “Please, just answer the damn question.” She pleaded.
“No.” He paused, “Of course not.” It was his first instinct. He loved his wife, more than anything in the world. She had done so many things for him. She was the one who loved him through thick and thin, through war and victory. Hell, she loved him when he couldn’t love himself.
The only thing was, he wasn’t sure if he didn’t love Maria. It had been years. There were some weird mixture of feelings there at the time, he couldn’t deny that. But he could say that Eliza was the one he wanted more than anything. Maria may have had beauty, and given him the power that he craved, but she was nothing compared to the woman standing in front of him. That he knew.
“You are the only one that I want.” His eyes met hers, pleading for some shred of forgiveness. “I swear to you.”
She sighed, letting out a chuckle of distress. “You have a funny way of showing it you know that?”
“I never meant to hurt you…” He clenched and unclenched his fist. His hand was bruised, a brownish purple, with flecks of red crossed his knuckles.
Eliza shook her head. Her arms wrapped around herself. “But you did...”
He had hurt her long before this. It was him, the cause of all of the destruction. He had ruined his perfectly good family life, by succumbing to his physical needs. It was foolish to try to blame it on anyone else but his own self and he knew that. His mind had also given way, in times of distress. Things would all be so different if he would have just gone. But he was a slave to his work. He was a slave to perfection, to his ever present need to become something. In his attempts to be a role model for the country, he had failed at being a husband and father. He wanted to be the father he never had, but he had no idea how to be. It terrified him more than anything.
“I know…” He swallowed hard, shuffling his feet and aching to run to hold the woman he loved in his arms. He grabbed the pamphlet from the table. “I just wanted to protect you. I wrote this, damned thing, to prove that none of this was your fault. That everything was on me.” He threw it back down.
“So you wrote this to clear your name?” Eliza said. “Alexander, you didn’t just clear your name. You left a mark on this world that will never go away.” She could almost hear him priding himself on that. “Don’t you understand , our children are going to have to live with this, this shit ,” she gestured to the pamphlet on the table, “for the rest of their lives.” She sighed and turned around. She ran her fingers running through her hair. “Our private lives should be just that, Alexander, private. At the very least your family deserves that. Or are we not worth that either?”
“You are. You know you are. Stop trying to question my intentions.”
“No,” she said, her fingers curling into her skin, “They don’t know where their father has been, why they are being thrown sideways glances and who that woman is in the pamphlet.” She sighed, “Right now, I don’t care about who you slept with. But you don’t get to torture our children like this. I won’t have it. Break my heart all you want Alex, but I am their mother and no one gets to treat them like this. Not even you.”
Alexander shook his head and ran his hands through his hair trying to hold back the tears welling in his eyes. His voice broke as he said, “I gave up my career for you , my chance at ever being president.” He looked up at her, begging his body not to let his tears spill over.
She shook her head in disappointment, sighing and turning away from him. She walked toward the desk, fixing the stationary and his various writings. “Don’t pretend you care. I am tired of giving into your lies.” She said, her voice weak from the sobbing.
Alexander threw himself onto the couch. He leaned his elbows onto his knees, putting his head in his hands. He went quiet for a moment. Eliza noticed the tears forming again, blurring her vision, as the silence sinks in around them. Then he yelled in despair, “Fuck!” and slammed a fist on the table. She jumped slightly. As she surveyed his current writings, her finger wavered over Angelica’s name at the top of a letter sticking out. She clenched her jaw. At first her heart filled with longing for her sister, but soon feelings of inadequacy began to wash over her.
At parties, everyone was always so surprised when Alexander came around. Once he was done debating with everyone he could, he would find Anglica to debate with more. She tired after small talk after a while, and she was always up for a good debate. They were the perfect pair it seemed, the way the fire lit behind their eyes. They would be seething with passion, and provided such profound wisdom on both sides. She had always admired them both from a distance.
It was inevitable that Eliza felt invisible in times like those. She could see the change in Alexander’s demeanor around her, a woman that could keep up with him, he was fascinated. Her mother had assured her that Alexander would be no good with a woman like Angelica, that two flames like that were never any good for each other. Eliza would have given anything to believe those words, but still she never believed it to be true.
She knew that Angelica always had a fondness for Alexander. That she was holding back more times than none, and he had a fondness for her. The way his eyes would light up in a good conversation, the way that she just understood him. Angelica could reach him on a whole other intellectual level. It was true, Eliza had never been the smartest or the prettiest, but she was caring. Her talent was being loving and nurturing, all the good things that a good mother and wife should be, and damn it she couldn’t even protect her children.
Alexander’s words caught her off guard. “Eliza, I love you.” He whispered into his hands, just barely audible. The words got stuck in her chest. She didn’t turn to meet him.
She had been waiting to hear those words for so long. Her heart was feeling such mixed emotions. She wanted nothing more than to give in and run into those arms that had held her so many times, to feel the warmth from his body, hear his heart beating and kiss his face the way she had so many times. She wanted to forget any of this had ever happened, but she couldn’t.
***
Even in those days, when he was riled up from a conversation, when he had feverishly scribbled his thoughts into a notebook before bed, she still got to him. Eliza would often sit at the edge of the bed, admiring him in the glow of the oil lamp. She may have not had the ability to press upon him her ideas or views the way Angelica did, but she had other ways of getting him to see her views.
She recalled a time when she was brave enough to undress right there behind him as he wrote. He had of course seen her naked before, but this was different. He was usually the initiator but this time, she decided to take the reins. She slipped off everything as quietly as she could, a smile gracing her face the entire time. He was deep in his thoughts when she placed her hands on his shoulders. Her cold hands massaged his neck, and he gave in. As she worked her hands into his muscles, she worked her ideas into his mind. He protested in his own ways, but it was late and his arguments got shorter and shorter. Instead, subtle moans escaped his mouth.
“My love…” He groaned trying to control himself. “I have to finish…”
“Shh...” Eliza had convinced him to calm his thoughts--for once “There is the morning for this, but right now…” Her hands moved down to the front of his shirt as she began working on the buttons. Through the haze of the night, his overworked mind became aware of what she was doing. As she finished the top buttons, her lips moved to his neck, “Just let me…” She felt him gulp, tensing up. But he was quiet, that was a good sign. He let her kiss his neck and he let his hands slide up her arms pulling them closer to his chest.
Caught off guard by her bare chest touching his back. His eyes widened, “Eliza…” She pulled away from him slowly, as he turned around. His jaw dropped in awe of her bare body. He eyed her up and down, heat basking in his eyes. That kind she loved to see so much. He slowly licked his lips and a smirk set on his face.
It was at that moment, she recalled how much he made her heart beat out of her chest and how there was nothing more that she wanted than him. When he looked at her like that, she remembered how desired she felt, and all thoughts of any other competition she may be against faded away.
He rose from his desk chair and loosened the rest of his shirt, taking it off. She guided him to the bed and spun him around, so that when she pushed him he fell back onto the bed. She climbed atop of him, straddling his legs as she started working off his belt. He just looked at her, in awe of all of her beauty. “Eliza,” he said, “I love you.” He had said it with earnest, vulnerability lingering on his lips. She smiled returning the sentiment, his pants finally coming loose. She pulled them off. At that moment, it was just her and him. He grabbed her hips, digging in slightly. He was ready to attack and god, she wanted that more than anything.
***
The memories flooded Eliza’s mind. They hadn’t had a moment like that in so long, she had almost forgotten what it was like. She turned around to look at him on the couch. Maybe Angelica would have been better for him, perhaps they wouldn’t have been in this situation if he had married her. Maybe they would have completed each other, maybe she was his missing piece. “And do you regret it? loving me…”
Alexander looked up from the couch, his brows furrowed in confusion. “What?” He didn’t understand where the logic was coming from. “Why would I?”
She was snide, she began staring off at the floor. “Maybe you should have just married Angelica?” Her arms still crossed her body, her hand fiddling with the locket on her neck. “Hell, maybe you should have just married that girl?”
“Eliza, stop.” He stood up from the couch. “How could you ever think I regret loving you? We have this life here I could have never imagined. We have been through so much together. I swear to you--”
“Just stop.” Her voice was stern. “I don’t even know why I bother. You slept with another woman, Alexander…” her voice began to break again, “...multiple times.” She continued, “You didn’t bother to even think about how this affects our family, much less me ? I don’t know how to believe you, or trust you for that matter...” She looked at him with disgust. Distance began to make itself even more evident in her eyes. “That’s your problem Alexander you don’t think .” His body tensed. “And this pamphlet of yours, it’s full of bullshit.”
Alexander swallowed hard. She was degrading his intelligence, and the one thing he put the most pride in, his writing. The one thing that had gotten him out of so many difficult situations in his life. It had taken him away from that god forsaken island, it had gotten him the woman that he truly couldn’t live without, and it had given him leverage in the world. He was no longer a nobody. He had finally made a name for himself. It was no longer the one that his foolish father had left him with. He had fought in battle, made it out. He founded a newspaper, created the coast guard, helped found the constitution, and created the national bank system. And there was still so much to do. But this time, he was dumb enough to make the mistake of putting on paper things he probably never should have done.
“It was a moment of weakness…” he said. Eliza narrowed her eyes at him. “I didn’t know what else to do. They were going to ruin my reputation.”
She scoffed. “Alexander, look at you.” She held her head high, knowing deep inside what she was about to do to tear him down. But what other choice did she have, he was not going to learn on his own. He had crumbled her heart already and she was not going to let him do the same to children. “You have already done that yourself. This is the most ridiculous thing I have ever read in all my years. You try to protect your precious name, but it’s useless. All they are ever going to see you as is a weak bastard immigrant. You are nothing to them Alexander.”
The realization of the events that transpired, the weight of everything he had fought for, the time, the lack of it, the stuff he could not go back and change, were all hitting him with force harder than before. She watched as the tears welled in his eyes, and she could feel the pain she was causing him. It was bitter sweet. She bit her lips.
“I was...I am sorry Eliza…” He said. He looked at her with those beautiful brown eyes. His body was curling into himself. He went silent. There was nothing more he could say.
“We would have been there for you, but I won’t tolerate this. I am done trying to forgive you.” The lump in her throat was so big she could barely speak. She fiddled with the necklace, the other hand on her growing belly. He noticed, and the tears spilled over. “I won’t have this wretchedness in our house.” She paused, feeling the tears beginning to well back up, but she forced herself to hold them back. “You need to leave .”
He looked up at her, disbelief filling his eyes. “What do you--”
“I mean you need to leave, now. Get out.” She was stern even though it took all the strength in her not to cry. “Take your things, and get the hell out. I don’t care where you go but you’re not sleeping here tonight.”
“Eliza--” He tried to protest. She turned her head away from him. He couldn’t believe she was doing this, never in all his years had she been this upset. But then again he supposed he had never done anything this awful before. “Okay.”
He straightened himself out and wiped the tears from his eyes. The attempt to get her attention failed, she didn’t bother to try to meet his eyes. She had just turned herself toward the fire. Her mind lost amongst the flames. He cleared his throat and walked toward the bedrooms to kiss the children goodbye.
Eliza spoke, still lost in the flames. “Don’t. You can explain everything to them later.”
His heart sank. He grabbed a blanket from the couch. Then he walked back into the front hallway and got his suitcase. He put the coat on, taking one last look at her. She wasn’t moving, it was like she was entranced in the licks of the flames as they rose and fell. His head was pounding as he walked out the front door.
The thunder echoed in the sky. It poured, drenching him as he ventured back to his office.
Tears ran back down Eliza’s cheeks. She could only numb herself enough to make him leave. And once he had closed that door, she felt her heart break all over again. Her husband was gone, the one she had vowed her life to, gone. She knew things were never going to be the same, but who was she kidding, they had not been for the longest time now.
She walked herself back to the couch, pulling a blanket over her as she lay down. She watched the flames, and felt the heat they let off. There was a bitter cold filling her body; An emptiness in her chest, and a missing warmth in her arms. She was left there alone, her small frame curled up on the couch. Her life was up in flames. No one was there to keep her warm but the fire that burned on.