Chapter Three
Blue Eyes on Brown
He'd made love to her after she told him she was with child. Merope never grew tired of the feeling, the bliss that was their union, and he worshiped her body with every caress of his mouth. He always trained his eyes on her — those impossibly blue irises begging her plain brown ones for affection. She returned it fervently as she dared. They both wept with bliss. When he was spent, Tom planted a kiss just above her naval and whispered a profession of love to her, and to their child. They fell asleep in each other's arms.
Her dreams that night were confused. The pair was at the park where he had first told her he loved her, and he was saying it again, breathy and eager.
Then they were running to London together, crammed into a carriage. Both were imagining what stories would be told once they were discovered to be gone. Merope tried to hold his hand.
They were walking down the street. They were being wed. All of the memories seemed to flash before her eyes, a year of them being together. But each scene ended the same way.
When she reached to touch him, Tom crumbled, hollow inside, and she watched him vanish before her very eyes.
Merope awoke with a start. Her husband was still asleep beside her, so she made sure not to disturb him as she rose. She locked herself in the bathroom and stared at her hazy reflection in the mirror. Those plain brown eyes, now swimming with tears.
She was living in a fantasy as long as she fed him the potion. She knew that now. But she also could recollect one thousand tender moments, moments that meant so much to them both. Tom could never hate her after what they had conquered and shared. This was their life now.
More than anything, she wanted him to be a willing part of it. Merope, after scrubbing away her tears, poured the rest of the love potion into the toilet and flushed.