Chapter Six

Will looked up at her, his expression inscrutable. Viola breathed in deeply, trying to guess as to what he was thinking, but it was impossible. She could only stand there, waiting, hoping for the best.

"Really? And you're sure about this?" he asked finally. She nodded.

"You're the only man…" the rest of her sentence dangled in the air, unspoken. Will seemed to understand.

"And what are you going to do?"

"I'm going home now. I'll tell my parents that it was the result of my short-lived marriage. After all, I can't say it's yours. But I'll let you name it, if you like. And you can see it sometimes."

Viola smiled, and stared intently into Will's face. It was a mixture of joy, confusion, and love. Her heart glowed, for she now realized that her friendship might not actually be in jeopardy.

"Yes, I suppose you can't really say that the child isn't a product of your marriage and still have a sound reputation. But I appreciate your open-mindedness, Viola. Will you still see me? And may I still visit you?"

"Why wouldn't you be able to? And why wouldn't I? I still love you with my whole being. The very core of myself is dedicated entirely to you. You are the only man I have truly loved with my whole heart, and I couldn't bring myself to never see you again. Not when I am so very close to you, after such an ordeal…"

Their lips joined in a quick kiss, but this time it was Will who pulled away.

"What is it?" Viola asked, a worried look on her face. She did not know what was wrong now, after she had thought that everything would be all right.

"How can I kiss you, how can I even love you, after I managed to get you with child? I am not worthy of you, Viola, and I never will be. I was too in love with you before to even notice it, but now I cannot ignore it," he told her, his voice resigned and depressed.

She took a step back, staring thunderstruck at him. He didn't love her after all! He had forgotten all about her while she was away! She was no longer the object of his desires, no longer the thing around which his work was centered! Oh, how awful!

"What are you talking about, Will? I love you, and you love me! That is all that matters! And I am carrying your child, the child which we created while you were creating your play! Oh, that blessed play! How can you simply walk away?"

She fell to the floor, crying, her face in her hands. Will rushed to her and encircled her in his strong arms, arms so familiar, so comforting to her. But she pulled away.

"You don't love me anymore, you truly don't. You're just doing this because I am a frail woman who needs comforting. Well, I don't. I don't need you, Will Shakespeare. You'll never see this child, or me, ever again! And I will never see one of your plays again, either!"

She stormed out into the streets, her tearstained face set in angry determination. She walked quickly down the street to the boat landing, where she hired a boat to take her home.

Will sat on the floor, still too shocked by what had happened to move. He, but a single sentence, had destroyed the one thing in his life which he held dear. The only thing which he had ever loved, loved with a passion that was more than simply lusting, was now gone from his life, probably forever.

The realization that he was the father of a child was something he was not unused to, but now it struck him like a blow, exactly as it had when Anne had told him. But this was a thousand times worse, for now he had lost Viola.

He had longed for her so much those long months when she had been gone, and now that she had returned, rather than welcome her into his arms, rejoice over her pregnancy, he had driven her away, driven her back to the home of her parents, and back to the oppressive society in which she had been forced to marry a man she not only didn't love, but loathed. He had thrown away happiness with both hands, and now he was as forlorn as ever.

He stood up and walked back to his bed, and sat on it, staring blankly into space. Not even the thought that he should probably get to the theater and help Richard at the rehearsal could get him to move. It was as if he was nailed to the bed, and could not move from it. The only thing he could do was go over the last few moments, trying to remember exactly why he had driven Viola away.

"Oh, Viola!" he moaned sadly, burying his face in his hands and beginning to cry like an infant. He could not even be glad that no one was there to see him cry. The only feeling he had was one of horrorstruck numbness.

The whole evening passed like that, and when darkness fell and he could no longer tolerate the loneliness, he managed to stumble out into the streets and into the alehouse, where he spent all of his money, drinking himself into oblivion. At least now he was a little happier, and could forget about Viola for a time. Oh, Viola!