A sound close to a growl escaped from her chapped lips as she shoved the door to her study open. Tearing her coat off and tossing it to the floor, she bared her teeth in anger and covered her scarred face with her hands.
"Idiota. Should have kept your big mouth shut." She mumbled to herself as she dragged her hands down her face, dropping her hands to her sides.
Her thoughts were a mess and her heart racing.
Slumping down into the chair before her desk, the wood creaking as her large frame settled into it, she scrubbed at her face again.
"Good going. You nearly let it all spill out." She allowed her head to thump down upon the desk, an audible groan escaping as she listened to the sounds of the house that was beginning to feel less like a home and more of a prison. It was not that she knew, but rather an uneasiness had begun to form between the two of them. A suspicious wife was the last thing she need and yet it was all her own doing, or perhaps, as most things were, it was all in her head.
A sad little chuckle escaped her as she raised her head from the desk and pressed her chin upon the warn wood, staring out the window.
It had not always been like this. The dancing around questioning looks, the arriving home late and smelling of confectionaries or on some evenings liquor and sweat. At first, she would stay up, awaiting her and the two would sit and talk about their days before she fell asleep with her head pressed into the other's shoulder, arms around each other. A romantic sight. And then the evenings were later and later and she would not remain on the couch, rather be found lying asleep in their bed, back to the door as she entered.
She was not in the wrong to be angry and frankly, her wife did not blame her for her anger and frustration. She had done wrong or rather she believed she was doing wrong. To a point, she was correct.
Once upon a time, they had been protectors of each other. Keepers of each other's hearts and then the breakage began. First was a few winters ago when her first wife rose again and then came the incident that even still today neither spoke of. Perhaps that is why the rift was growing again, and not just the long days and evenings apart.
She grimaced as she closed her eyes and slouched even further upon her desk, scratching at her arm, fingertips brushing over old battle and fighting scars. Perhaps she imagined another's touch, or perhaps her exhausted mind was taking over as it often did.
Another little chuckle escaped her as she straightened herself and leaned on back into her chair, before simply toppling off the chair.
Laying upon her back, she continued to just gentle chuckle to herself as tears began to prick at her eyes.
"You've won. Are you happy? You've won." She spoke to the open air, her eyes wet with tears. Perhaps she was speaking to the singular spirit that still haunted her. Or perhaps she was speaking aloud to herself…
