"... my real crime is an amorous connection with his wife, for a considerable time with his privity and connivance..."

The pamphlet's words danced around Eliza's mind, made their way into memories of her wedding, the birth of her son and daughter, the moment of absolute helplessness she felt when she first laid eyes on her soon-to-be husband. All of those memories seemed marred now, tainted with the now constant reminder of her husband's infidelity. Even now, as she looked upon the sweet words Alexander had written her, it seemed near impossible to look upon them with any sense of fondness or love. All she felt was betrayal.

She scanned the paragraphs vicariously, wanted to see if Alexander's words held any secret meaning to them if the words that she thought detailed love instead detailed hate, for if the man harbored any love in his heart for her, he would not have made her feel so humiliated. She could only imagine how Philip felt, and the thought of her first-born son surged a new wave of overwhelming hate and disgust. Her husband- Alexander invited this woman into their bed, marked their sheets with her, and didn't think of the pain it would cause his children. For the first time, she hated him. She's never hated him - nothing about him in all their twelve years of marriage.

He had ruined them, ruined their image of him.

And Eliza wanted to scream, wanted to throw china and overturn tables and rip the curtains and scream until her voice went hoarse, because she loved Alexander and trusted Alexander with everything she had, and he vowed to put her above everything else. She wanted to meet Maria Reynolds, wanted to ask her how she had gotten ever so carefulAlexander in between her legs, and maybe she would reach some kind of closure with her words. Perhaps not.

Eliza did not think the impossible could happen to her as she sat in her room with her eyes glued to the document in her hand. Eliza read every letter Maria Reynolds wrote to her husband. Each sentence of loving adoration made Eliza's skin crawl and her stomach do somersaults. It was as if someone poured scalding hot water on her skin burning her for life. How had this come to be? How did her life come to such ruin?

Eliza felt like a fool. She did not see what was happening under her own roof. She thought Alexander was busy working like he always had. How could her husband fall for another woman? Did Alexander fall out of love with her?

Sometimes, seized by a sense of urgency, she ran, spilling hot wax from the taper she carried onto her wrist. When she noticed the pain at all, it brought her to her senses and she stood, dazed, blinking at the furniture. She sat on chairs she rarely used, opened curtains then closed them again, examined knickknacks on shelves as if seeing them for the first time. Every artifact that made their conjoined lives material, every physical trace of their shared effort, pleasure, and hope felt alien, like objects of a ruined civilization.

Elizabeth stood up from the chair she resided in, crumpling the papers in her hands. Alexander should be home soon. God, she didn't want to have to face him with the kids home. Swiftly, Elizabeth walked over to the fire place and stood in front of it, staring dully. She knew what she was going to do and when. Burn every letter of correspondence, burn ever letter that could redeem him. Right in front of him.

Twenty minutes later, Eliza heard the study door opening and closing as she narrowed her eyes. She didn't bother to look at him before Alexander started speaking.

"Eliza, please, I know I really messed up, but I couldn't stop myself. Ipromise you I tried. I know it's not an excuse, but I missed you so much and she invited me. I tried to leave, I swear, but she kept persisting. It was getting late and harder and harder. I know what you think. I'm so sorry my love, I-"

Her face twisted into hurt and pure rage. "You miss me so you go andcheat on me? With a woman who is so much younger than I?" she spat and Alex winced. "You've lost your right to call me 'my love' or any other nicknames - including Eliza." Ouch.

My Alexander's face shattered. He looked as if he were going to give up, which was definitely odd for him. Elizabeth took in a breath and tilted her head up, staring directly in front of her. She moved towards the desk and clutched a handful of letters, holding them to her chest.

"I saved every letter you wrote me. From the moment I read them, I knew you were mine," Eliza turned to look at the painting of her dearest sister, Angelica. "Do you know what Angelica said when we saw your first letter arrive? She said," "Be careful with that one, love he will do what it takes to survive,""

The woman clutched the letters closer to her heart and closed her eyes, sighing. "You and your words flooded my senses, your sentences left me defenseless...You built me palaces out of paragraphs. You built cathedrals..." She walked past Alexander and looked down at the letters, scanning random words.

"I'm re-reading the letters you wrote me. I'm searching and scanning for answers. In every line, for some kind of sign, of when you were mine" she looked up and out the window, "the world seemed to...burn." Taking in a shaky breath, Eliza glanced over her shoulder. "You published the letters she wrote you, you told the whole world how you brought this girl into our bed, and in clearing your name, you have ruined our lives."

Alexander reached a hand out to touch her shoulder, withdrawing as she pulled away from him. This was a war he couldn't redeem himself from. "Do you know what Angelica said when she read what you'd done? She said: "You have married an Icarus. He has flown too close to the sun." Elizabeth glared over at her husband and clenched her fists. "You and your words obsessed with your legacy, your sentences border on senseless, and you are paranoid in every paragraph, how they perceive you-" her voice broke as tears started to well in her eyes. "You, you, you-"

Finally, Eliza looked at the box her younger sister Peggy had sent to hold the letters from Alexander. Grasping it in her hands, she opened it and thumbed through the hundreds of papers. "I'm erasing myself from the narrative. Let future historians wonder how Eliza reacted when you broke her heart you have torn it all apart, I'm watching it burn." Eliza tore through as many pages as she could and crumpled them up, Alexander quickly lurching forwards with his hand out, trying in vain to stop her. "Watching it burn."

He stood by, his wife picking up the box and slamming it down on the table, nearest to the fire place. "The world has no right to my heart the world has no place in our bed they don't get to know what I said I'm burning the memories burning the letters that might have redeemed you."

Alexander's face darkened, a horrified expression washing over his face. He reached out a hand to grab Eliza's forearm but she slapped it away, holding her arms to herself defensively, walking towards him in a semi-threatening manner. He fumbled backwards, the raven haired woman clutching the letters, the pamphlet, tossing them into the fire. "You forfeit all rights to my heart! You forfeit the place in our bed! You'll sleep in your office instead,with only the memories of when you were mine!"

The man fell to his knees, watching as the letters burned. Elizabeth looked down at him with no pity. She had no regrets, it was what he deserved. She had left Alexander broken, without what he had written to help him. What he had written had ruined her life. But did he care? She didn't think so. He had only tried to save his legacy and his honor. Not his wife. "I hope that you burn."

Without another word, she turned on her heel and left Alexander with nothing but the ashes of pages, words of what were. She made it to her room sat down, bursting into tears. She had lost what meant the most to her. Her Alexander. Only, she couldn't call him her's anymore
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