She cried for weeks, I heard.
She cried in her sleep, when preparing food, while hanging the laundry, during her shift at the inn, whenever someone mentioned my name. Myriam stayed by her side for the most time but as she's a mother now and has to take care of her own loved ones, she had to leave her side from time to time.
I did not cry. I never cry. Never ever.
But I mourned the loss of the life we could have had.
I started to lose sleep, I skipped meals, wandered about aimlessly and once, I let a redcoat pound me half to death.
I still didn't cry when Norris came with the news of her leaving the Homestead and with it, everything we once shared.
I was turning a corner with a little puppy following me closely when I saw a glimpse of that familiar face again, almost 5 months later.
She was making her way out of the General Store, guiding an elderly lady, chatting with her merrily. She was skinnier than I remembered, firm round bottom, amazing pair of mounds fitting perfectly in my hands, a little bit a fat on her womanly hips, but she looked herself. Her eyes shone with mischief, something I came to love throughout the years I've known her, and her lips were still as full as before, though probably a bit paler.
What surprised me was the bump under her coat.
"She's pregnant." Myriam deadpanned, looking me deeply in the eyes with an unreadable expression on her face.
"What?!"
"Yes, our exact reaction." Norris chuckled, but when his wife shot him an unimpressed look, he averted his eyes and shut his mouth. I stared in front of myself, not knowing what to say next, remaining as still and quiet as a statue.
"It's yours." Myriam informed me further, though I think she knew I was able to figure that much out. She would never be with another man beside me. She would never stoop so low to find another man in just 5 months and get herself pregnant. Also, she already looked rather far in her pregnancy, so the concept of some faceless fellow is ridiculous.
"Impossible." I mumbled, thinking back at the horrible realization that we might never get the chance of being parents. Dr. White was sadly absolutely sure that she is infertile.
Myriam shook her head then took a step forward me, "Are you going to do something about it?" I glanced up at her, she had a delicate eyebrow raised high on her forehead, and I smiled weakly.
A nod. Then another one. A third nod followed by a couple other nods.
Yes. Yes, I will do something about it.