Chapter 8
I Don't Forgive
James' POV
It had been a few days since I last rode off from Sarah's house. That night I had been confused and angry. It was very bad.
Flashback
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I rode as fast as I could to get back to my print shop. Bitter tears stung my eyes and I could barely see. The old mare that Sarah had let me use was fast but I could hear her tiring.
I pulled Hickory to a halt and practically fell off of the saddle. I ran over and threw my arms around a tree. The tears still rolled out of my eyes and down my cheeks.
My heart felt broken. All time had stopped and my mind kept flickering back to the dining room. When Sarah accepted a total strangers hand in marriage while in front of me.
I wiped my sleeve over my eyes to dry my tears but nothing could stop my tears. Eventually Hickory nudged me and I got on. She amazingly got me home without even knowing where I lived. I wasn't in my proper mind to steer.
I locked myself in my room for a night and stayed there, staring at my floor.
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End Flashback
It had been three days since that had occurred. I regained my composure in those days and nights but I did feel something in me change.
It felt like my heart wasn't there anymore. Like I had lost something inside me and would never gain it back.
I didn't feel anymore. I didn't care anymore. All that mattered was me and my newspaper. Never again will I be heart broken.
I decided to get to work on the latest issue of the Sun. I had gotten a letter from Henri that explained what was happening in France. It sure did sound like they were going to have a revolution over there.
I had gotten the printing press ready and was putting together the print when a loud bang on my door echoed through the house. I got up slowly and opened the door. Sarah stood in front of me.
"What do you want?" I snapped. She had looked taken aback but shook it off.
"I have come here to talk to you," she explained.
"Well I don't want to talk. At least not with you." I almost shut the door but she stopped it from closing with her foot.
I walked back over to my desk and started again on the print. She slowly walked up to me desk and gave a little cough.
"Listen Miss Phillips! I am very busy with a paper unlike you! Please leave!"
Sarah frowned at me.
"Since when have you called me Miss Phillips?" she asked.
"Since now!"
"Well don't. I have grown fond of my first name. Now I have come to explain and apologize to you…"
"I don't want an apology. I want you to leave! I don't want to see you in this shop again Sarah Phillips! Do you understand?" I shouted.
She froze in fear. I was standing up by now with my hands pressed hard on my desk. She finally woke up from her shock and glared at me.
"Fine I shall leave. Good day to you Mr. Hiller."
She turned and left while I sat down and went back to my newspaper. Good riddens to her. She can go back to her comfy little estate and marry that pompous English tory.
