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As the landscape of New York flew by Dr Kirkland’s carriage, a thousand thoughts emerged and crashed in his mind. Peggy… a dead son… a possible husband somewhere out there? It all made no sense; his hands shook as he tried to piece it all together. Memories of every moment he spent with her came to mind, the details and colors fresh as if they had met yesterday. He tried to see things from a dozen different angles, to pull the narrative apart, but none of it reassured him.
William’s chest squeezed painfully, his lungs turning rigid and stony as if to stifle the pain from within. He’d looked so many times in Peggy’s eyes, those beautiful pools of liquid gold, and was so sure he knew her… but now he knew not.
A dead son… A funeral last year?
It made even less sense considering how busy she was, how brave and forthcoming. In between her demanding work as a journalist, secretary, and novelist, how and when had she found the time to grieve her child? And again, where was that supposed husband? Had he died too, or worse, deserted the home, turned his back on his responsibilities?
His heart pounded fiercely in his chest, the poor organ under immense pressure as he processed the news. None of it aligned. Nothing landed, nor registered, like his mother’s cries as she told him to wait for her. But his ears wouldn’t listen, not now that he desperately needed answers, clarity, and nothing but the truth. He’d been so engrossed in thoughts, so detached from reality, that when the carriage finally stopped in front of Van Rhijn home, nightfall had come. To be so close to Peggy’s residence did little for the storm in his chest, as he now felt pulled and pushed by her.
As he was let into the house by Mr Bannister, the butler, William’s knuckles blanched as he nervously clutched his hat. He was led to the waiting room, told to wait for Peggy there, and so he did, fighting a jitter in his knees as he listened for any sign of Peggy’s arrival.
“A woman like that is not to be trusted!” His mother's words rang in his ears, her eyes lit by indignation.
The words echoed over and over again in his mind, like a vicious, incessant chant that wouldn’t let him go. Yes, Peggy hadn’t told him that part of her past, but then again, hadn’t he said that nothing else mattered but the present? That’s what he felt, then and now. Nothing else mattered but Peggy and him, along with that special warm, bright space they created and kept to themselves.
“Dr Kirkland, is everything alright?” Peggy’s voice reached his ears.
And when his eyes met hers, it felt like the whole world went quiet. That bothersome buzzing in his ears that had been nagging him the entire way here was…gone, banished into the thin air. He’d been so impatient to talk to her, the words he wanted to say had been turned and flipped so many times, but now they were gone too. Still, he wanted answers, needed them. He rose to face her, a strange kind of warmth rumbling through his chest, like a staccato chant of some sort.
“Yes, there is,” he began, his voice softer than he’d ever heard it before,“ The-... I… We need to talk.”
“Oh,” she whispered, her eyes widening with worry as she came to sit next to him, “What’s wrong?”
Everything? Your past? My mother? My doubts?
His hand reached for Peggy’s, taking comfort in the sensation of their bare skin's contact. His eyes fell there, marveling at the contrast between their skin tones and how warm hers was. Then he bent down to press a kiss, gentle and featherlike, to the back of her hand…fearing it may be the last time he ever got to do so if the discussion went left. His heart squeezed at the thought that this may be their last conversation, their last moment together. He didn’t want to lose her. Yes, he wanted answers, but not as much as he wanted her.
And yet, he knew he couldn’t leave here tonight without the full truth.
As he opened his mouth again, he planned to say just that… before the sound of a gunshot blared into the night. The couple jumped apart, startled, as more gunshots echoed in the short distance. William rose immediately, pushing Peggy behind her, even as he failed to locate where the danger was coming from. Then the sounds of footsteps barreled through the home, as the family and the staff were awakened by the shots.
He held Peggy close, his heart pounding for her safety, even as his medical instincts screamed for him to run towards the sound, towards the inevitable victims.