Brandon's Farewell
Marianne's eye were rimmed with signs of sorrow. Brandon stood in the doorway and watched her slender hands as they embroidered a tiny garment. He knew the fabric in her hands was meant for their unborn child. His eyes fell to his wife's middle and a bittersweet mixture of joy and sadness filled his chest. It felt like honey and hot spices clung to his throat.
Looking up at the doorjamb he breathed slowly, trying to get the air through his thick throat. He whipped a hand over his eyes and stepped into the room.
"Marianne," he whispered. "It is time."
Marianne did not look up but continued to pull the needle in and out of her work.
Brandon stepped closer to her chair but not close enough to touch her. "Marianne, I must go. Will you not see me to my coach?"
She did not answer, her needle pulling a knot tight.
Silence filled the room and the honey seemed to thicken making it hard for Brandon to breath.
He looked away from her to the papered walls. She had chosen the tiny lace design less than a year before, when they were first married. Life had seemed so perfect then, how could things have gone so wrong?
Brandon looked down at his wife once again and still she did not look away from her embroidery. He sighed and stepped forward. "My angel, I must go. I hope you understand…" It had been a fortnight since the orders had come and Marianne had scarcely looked at him let alone spoken to him. The ache that this long silence had built within Brandon's chest now pierced deeper in this moment.
"Farewell, my love," Brandon said, coming closer. He wrapped a hand around her shoulder and placed a kiss on the top of her head. Her curls beneath his face were soft but her body felt hard as stone to his hand.
He held tight to her for a moment longer then let go. "I will write as soon as I am able. You will not hear silence from me." He meant his words as a promise but they came out more bitter than he had intended.
"Good-bye." He turned to go but as he got to the door he took one last look at Marianne. She sat sill frozen, her embroidery laying on her lap. Her hands twisted into a knot. Two drops landed on her hands and Brandon realized she was weeping.
Without another thought Brandon ran forward, grabbed Marianne up and kissed her roughly. His fingers holding her arms tight, he pressed his lips to hers tasting the salt of her tears and the dry scent of her lavender water.
Marianne did not move but allowed him to pull her closer. Slowly her hands came up around his back and she clung to him as if to keep him there forever.
Moments passed and Brandon lifted his face from hers, leaning his head upon her hair.
"Marianne," he whispered. "How shall I live without?"
"Brandon," she said, her voice small like a child's. "How…How shall I live without you?"
Leaning back he tilted her chin so that he could look in to her fair eyes. "You will be fine. I promise."
"But you promised to stay and you have already broken that promise."
Brandon kissed the tip of her nose. "I know, my love. But this promise I shall keep: I will be home when your time comes."
"Oh, Brandon." Marianne buried her face into his coat.
He stroked the fine hairs at the nape of her neck. "Somehow, I will be here for you… Somehow."
