I see my beloved fall to the ground, and panic rushes through me. I pick her up bridal style, and walk her through the house, careful not to run into anything and hit her on anything. Running to the doctors 2 blocks away, I keep mumbling, "Stay with my Eliza, stay with me. Betsey don't leave me. I love you, don't leave me!" Once we get there, I lay her down and call the doctor out to look at her. Before he comes, Eliza says, "Alexander, I hate you... for what you did... but love you... always…" Then her hands get cold and clammy, her labored breathing visibly stops, and her lips look the slightest bit blue. I call for the doctor again. He comes out and checks for a pulse, he must has at least somewhat witnessed what I did.
"Alexander Hamilton, your wife died." He declares
"But how?"
"Shock, naturally, diseases, or something with medication."
"Medication?"
"Yes."
"Please clean her up." I tell him, "I have to go, I'll be back in 2 hours."
I run out of the doctor's office. I sprint past the first block and slow down to a jog, once I reach the house. Pills? I think Where do we keep pills? I go inside and the first thing that crosses my mind is the bathroom. When I go in there, I look in the garbage, nothing. I search the floor, underneath the sink for an empty bottle. There is nothing. I go into our room. If she took any pills it would be in here. I look in the garbage, nothing out of the ordinary. I search in draws, all of them and there is nothing out of the obvious. My pants and shirts, my pajamas, her nightgowns, 4 sets of corsets, and some powder with brushes. I look under the bed. I see a quill, some ink, 2 notes, and an empty pill bottle. I pull it all out from under the bed. I look at the one of the notes first. It reads:
My Dearest Alexander,
My deepest apologies to you. You don't deserve to be widower. I took the pills Alex, I couldn't take it. That is the reason for any future prying I do. I knew it was going to take me, Alex, I knew it. I'm so sorry. I guess we're even then, you cheated and attempted to kill myself, and if you found this, it worked. I love you, Alexander. I forgive you, forever. Do you forgive me?
Love, Elizabeth Hamilton
She took the pills in effort to stop the pain, when I was going to make it all stop, but she loves and forgives me. Do I forgive her? Do I forgive her for leaving me with 4 children, one of which is a girl, and I'll have to help with her femininity issues? I have to. If I don't it is like saying I don't want her, and I still do. I will not remarry. I'm okay with being a single dad. I rub my eyes in attempt to not let tears spill and put down her little note to me and pick up the other note. This one reads:
Miss Elizabeth Schuyler,
I had a wonderful night of dancing with you. You have such a great family, wonderful sisters. Angelica seems like quite the charmer, and you are just so magnificent. I would like to request that you write me a time where we could eat dinner at my place, since I am on leave for the war. I can't wait to see you again.
Mr. Alexander Hamilton
This is the first letter I wrote her, she must have read it a thousand times, but she didn't burn it. She burned every letter, except for this one. I saw her dump the whole chest out onto the fire. This must not have been in the chest then. Then, I feel tears slip out of my eyes, and roll down my cheeks. This is the first I've cried since I've been 12. I have to tell Angelica today.
I get a carriage and begin the 30 minute ride over to her house. I think about how I'm going to tell her, and my kids. How am I going to tell them? I'll tell Angelica first, then we can brainstorm a way to tell the kids. By the time I arrive at Angelica's, I have a plan and I know exactly what I am going to say.