Work Text:
Charlotte Miller had always been spoiled. From her parents, who bought her the newest dresses, to her high school sweetheart, John, who showered her with extravagant gifts. She always had the newest, most popular items, which made the other girls in town burn with envy.
By 1917, the war in Europe was going full force, and there was a desperate need for American troops. New York bustled with nervous energy; children were forced to say goodbye to their fathers, and wives constantly wondered if their husbands would ever come home. A letter was sent to John stating that he was to report to Camp Meritt in New Jersey by the end of the month. Charlotte was beside herself with anxiety, dreading the day that was quickly approaching.
“Don’t worry, Charlie, it will be over before you know it,” John said softly one night as they were walking home after dinner.
Charlotte smiles fondly at him, not truly believing his words. She had heard horror stories from other women when they’d talk after church. She knew what the best outcome would be, and even that did not settle her frantic mind.
“Before I leave, I want to give you something,” John says nervously. “Just a little gift of remembrance.”
He pauses in front of Charlotte’s house, where lights shine softly from the windows. She can see her mother moving around the kitchen while her father enjoys his after-dinner whiskey.
“What-” Charlotte barely gets out.
John knelt on one knee, holding a black velvet box in his hand. “Would you, Charlotte Anna Miller, do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Charlotte’s hand flies to her mouth, tears welling in her blue eyes. “Yes.”
John quickly rises from the ground and swoops her up in a hug. “I will do everything in my power to provide for you a luxurious life.”
・・・・・・
The next few months were painful for Charlotte. She missed John so much that even breathing felt impossible without him around. The only thing that kept her going was the letters she received every week. Most were short with only one or two lines, while a few told stories of training and how much she’d love Europe if there had not been a war going on.
But as the months dragged on, the letter became less and less frequent. They started showing up every other week, then only once a month, before they stopped completely.
By the second month of no letters, Charlotte gave up hope of John ever coming home. Her friends had begun to convince her to come to parties, where rich men and injured soldiers often wandered in, looking for women seeking a husband.
“Lottie, you won’t believe who I just met!” Her friend, Mary Ann, screeched.
“Who-” Charlotte was cut off.
“The head physician at the Presbyterian Hospital. His name is William Arthur.”
Mary Ann grabbed Charlotte and shook her frantically. “He wants to meet you!”
・・・・・・
The first time William took Charlotte on a date was along the East River on a warm summer night. He packed a picnic, and they talked for hours. Charlotte never mentioned John, though. By the end of the night, William knew Charlotte was perfect for him. The only flaw was that she had expensive tastes and liked to spend money.
By the third date, William had bought a beautiful courting gift, a simple gold ring with a diamond set in the middle. Charlotte loved it and wore it everywhere.
The dates went on like that for a while. Sometimes they took a ride out to the country, where they lay a blanket out and talked for hours. Other times, they went to the movies. Every time without fail, William provided a courting gift. Despite all the beautiful flowers, bracelets, and clothes William got her, Charlotte’s favorite was always the gold rings he gave her.
On Charlotte’s birthday, William gave her a gold ring with her birthstone. That was her favorite of the four rings she had been given so far. She wore it with every outfit, much to William’s dismay. More money went into Charlotte’s everyday appearance than went into rent and eating out every month.
・・・・・・
It happened in the middle of her mother’s birthday dinner. The whole family was gathered around the dinner table, enjoying a roast and potatoes. The room was filled with a gentle murmur of conversation, which was promptly cut off by a knock on the front door.
“Who could that be?” the father asked, getting up to go look.
Everyone remained silent as they heard the door open. A gruff voice spoke quietly to the father for a minute before the two entered the dining room.
“Lottie, this officer would like to talk to you,” the father said.
Charlotte dragged her eyes away from the plate to meet the tired eyes of the police officer standing next to her father. With a quick glance at her mother and siblings, it showed they were just as confused as she was. She stood up anyway and allowed her father to lead the two of them into the sitting room.
Once Charlotte was situated on the couch, the officer stepped toward the window and removed his hat. “Ms. Charlotte Miller?”
“Yes, that’s me,” Charlotte said, still filled with hesitancy.
“William Arthur has died in a car accident.”
・・・・・・
The next month was a blur. The funeral came and went with condolences from people she’d never met. She found it hard to do anything now. She’d lost two of her loves in such a short amount of time. Not even spending money could pull her out of this depression.
By November, her family was sick of it. Charlotte never left the house, not even to go to her treasure tree. They were desperate to find a fix.
Thankfully, it came one day in the form of the reading of William’s will. The lawyer who came was kind, smiling softly at Charlotte as he pulled the paper from his briefcase. She hated that this had to happen, but perhaps William had bought her another ring before he died.
“Hello, Ms. Miller. I am Mr. Walsh. I was Mr. Arthur’s lawyer,” the man said. “We’ll make this quick.”
By the end, Charlotte had four new necklaces, a house, and quite a bit of money. Plus, Mr. Walsh, who insisted she call him Henry, requested that she join him for dinner. She couldn’t turn the man down, especially after all he’d done for her. They arranged dinner a week from then, and Charlotte finally had something to look forward to.
They celebrated Christmas with Charlotte’s family that year, although there wasn’t much to celebrate. The war was still dragging on in Europe, and Charlotte’s youngest brother had just been shipped off last week. The mood in the house was very somber.
Henry brought Charlotte outside on Christmas night.
“I just wanted to give you my final gift,” Henry murmured softly.
She pulls back to look at him with curiosity. Unwinding one arm from around her shoulder, Henry reaches into his pocket and pulls out a black box. Her eyes dart down before meeting his eye.
“What-” she starts.
“Just listen, Lottie,” he hushes. “I know what you’ve been through, and I know how hard it’s been. But I want us to be happy together. So, would you do me the honor of taking my last name?”
Before Charlotte’s mouth can catch up with her brain, she’s already shaking her head. “I… I can’t. Not now, not yet.”
She sucks in a breath. “I’m not saying no, but I can’t now. I’m not ready.”
Henry smiles sadly. “I understand, Lottie. I can wait.”
・・・・・・
By Valentine’s Day, Charlotte had gotten her spark back. Henry was more than happy to indulge in her hobby. Every weekend, she got to go shopping with Henry’s money. She always bought the best, most expensive products.
For a special date, Henry brought Charlotte to the beach. A picnic blanket was already set up with all of Charlotte’s favorite food. Towards the end of the date, Henry stood up and pulled out a red jewellery box.
“I know you said no last time, but I can’t help but ask again,” John opened the box.
Charlotte took a deep breath. “I-”
She fiddles with the other silver ring on her finger. “I can’t, Henry. I just can’t.”
He takes a deep, angry breath. “Fine! Just be selfish. I’m trying to help you move on, but you can’t see past your own greed.”
With a huff, Henry turns and marches off down the beach back toward the car. Charlotte was left stranded.
・・・・・・
By March, Charlotte was back to being depressed. She couldn’t even get out of bed. Her mother brought her breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and her sister often kept her company. Charlotte barely even noticed.
In the evening, after her mother had brought dinner and her sister had left, Charlotte sat staring at her bedroom wall. She barely registered the slamming of the front door and feet pounding up the stairs.
“Charlotte! Charlotte, come quick!” Her sister shouted frantically.
Charlotte stared blankly at the door, not making an effort to get up. Just as she was turning back to her spot on the wall, her bedroom door flew open. Her sister stood in the doorway, panting with hair slightly askew.
“Charlotte, it’s John. He’s home!”
Tears flowed freely down Charlotte’s face as she looked down the aisle. Her future husband stood at the end, right arm in a sling close to his chest. He was dressed in his old uniform, medals hanging proudly on it. With a deep breath, Charlotte begins the short walk down with her father.
“Do you, Charlotte Anna Miller, take John Charles Smith to be your lawfully wedded husband?” the priest asks.
Charlotte manages a teary, “Yes.”
The priest smiles softly at her before turning to John. “And do you, John Charles Smith, take Charlotte Anna Miller to be your lawfully wedded wife.”
“Always,” John murmurs.
“Then, by the power vested in me by the state of New York and by the authority of the Church, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”