Here I had thought he was mine. I spent seven years dreaming of marrying him. I didn't care about a ridiculously poofy dress or obnoxiously high heels. I didn't need dozens of roses or a hundred guests I don't even know. All I wanted was to marry the man I love. I just couldn't contain myself anymore. And now that if finally happened, I feel so joyous. It breaks my heart so much that I cannot be with him right now.
I remember the day he arrived at Downton. He had a light wooden cane, black top hat, and the cutest smile. Everyone criticized him for limping. Soon after when he was let go, it saddened me to see this poor man leave, so I brought him dinner. I don't know why I cared so much. Probably because I was the only one that believed in him. I could read him faster than my favorite Charles Dickens book. He was a hurting soul with no one to love him.
Ever since I brought him dinner that night he realized that love does still exist. Caring and love is all he needed; therefore, I am thankful I was able to love him before he was arrested.
Luckily, this won't be the end. I will never quit fighting until he is mine and only mine. Not Vera's, not the government: mine. After all, I gave him the biggest gift I could: the gift of myself.
1919