Gomez clutched his steaming cup of henbane tea as his eyes stared unseeing at the stack of letters that were delicately placed on top of one another. The black ink screamed his name from the creamy parchment, each elegant curve taunting him with the promise of Morticia. Despite the torturous temptation to rip each letter open as it arrived, they had managed to pass unscathed through Gomez's hands. He had held every perfumed rectangular message to his heart treasuring the feel of the slick paper that his beloved's hand had caressed. After a few hours, his fingers would erode the thickness of the envelope and he would set it on his desk to prevent any further destruction of the precious letters. Although he refused to read their content, unprepared for what was hidden inside, he could not be far from them. Sleeping on his desk became a habit, the stack of accumulating notes creating a faint illusion that Morticia was near. In his dreams, he could breathe in her intoxicating scent, and see her glorious curves, but never did he hear her lyric voice.

It had been exactly one week since their failed attempt for happiness. Gomez had completely given up hope, his depression verging on complete madness. He had not bathed since she left, nor had he bothered to change his clothes. It was as if he was stuck in time, unable to go back and unwilling to move forward. The letters started to arrive the morning after the party, leaving Gomez in a dizzying state of distraught. He trembled as his eyes passed over the graceful script that spelled his name. Thanks to mama's revelation, Gomez knew what the letter contained. His life was ending, and the death sentence was being carried out by his only reason for living.

With each new letter, Gomez grew more desolate. He believed every single one repeated a simple message, that their love affair was over. Unable to read the words and therefore confirm his worst fear, Gomez simply allowed them weigh down his aching heart and his desk. A knock on the door stole his attention away from the daunting stack of personal despair. Lurch grunted as he entered the room and crossed over to Gomez.

"Another letter, sir."

"Put it with the others. Thank you Lurch."

Lurch did as he was told, setting the envelope on top of the ever-growing pile.

"Anything else, Mr. Addams?"

Gomez didn't seem to hear him, the fresh whiff of her perfume stealing all his attention.

"Sir?"

When Gomez finally met Lurch's stare, the look masking his hazel eyes was terrifying. It was like there was nothing behind them. The illuminous sparkle of vital passion that was such a staple of Gomez's persona had vanished. Instead, hollow orbs gazed unseeing at the massive butler.

"That will be all, Lurch."

With hesitation, Lurch left Gomez alone, leaving the door open. It was the perfect opportunity for a nervous Ophelia to peek her head in.

"How art thou, fair Gomez?"

"Not now, Ophelia."

Although he had tried to shut down her attempt to talk, she persisted. It had taken Ophelia days to muster up the courage to speak to her husband. She stepped in, closing the door behind her.

"Dear husband, we need to have une conversation."

"English, Ophelia!"

His sudden anger startled her, but she continued to stay strong. She sat in the chair across his desk, unable to see him over the mass of neatly stacked envelopes. Gently, Ophelia started to move them to the side but was stopped by Gomez's strong hand grabbing her wrists.

"Don't touch those!"

"Gomez?" Ophelia was surprised by his strange behavior. She looked down to see his name etched in delicate black ink. "Who are these from?"

"It doesn't matter." Despair weighed down each syllable.

Ophelia's eyes scanned over the handwriting, she knew she recognized it but she couldn't place from where.

"Dear Gomez, there is something I must discuss with you."

He let out a frustrated sigh, the sound of her voice tearing at his nerves. Ophelia dragged her chair to the left so she could see Gomez. He didn't look at her, despite her silhouette obstructing his peripheral vision.

"What is it, Ophelia?"

She hesitated, gathering the necessary words. Gomez was growing impatient with each second that passed, making the air between them thick with tension. Ophelia took a deep breath, ready to expel her thoughts as she exhaled.

"Dearest, we've been married for over two months."

"Seems longer."

Ophelia ignored his remark, determined to continue with the speech playing in her head.

"In that time Gomez, we have not truly been married." She paused to watch his reaction, there was none. "Because of that, I feel that a change must be made." Still not receiving a response, she started to nervously play with her golden braids. "Gomez, I am asking for an annulment."

Finally, she had his attention. At first, he looked confused, but as her words registered in his mind, she was surprised to see a calm wash over him. Relief started to flood his mind at the thought of being rid of the peppy blonde woman that insistently hounded him.

"An annulment?"

She was tentative, unsure if he was about to explode.

"Yes."

He was silent, feeding Ophelia's growing anxiety. Nervousness created an endless spew of word vomit, that started endlessly pouring out of her.

"It is obvious that we are both unhappy, Gomez. Since we have not consummated our marriage, we can get the annulment and start fresh. I thought I was ready to be your wife, but I was mistaken fair Gomez. There are things I want to do that this life does not provide. I am still in my youth, and I want to embrace the utopia that awaits in exploring the world. I have been thinking about this for a while, and after Morticia's news I feel this is the right thing to do."

"Morticia?" The mention of her name was his sole concern. His eyes darted to the letters, the action not going unnoticed by Ophelia.

"After the announcement that she and Balthazar are expecting, I realized that we will never have that. How will I be a mother if my husband won't even look at me, let alone touch me? It's not that I want a child now, but someday I will. You don't have to tell me you don't want that, I see it in your behavior. It is not your fault dear Gomez. We married despite the lack of love, and the love never came."

"You're right, Ophelia." She stopped speaking, her eyes wide. "I dreaded meeting you, I was not ready to get married. Perhaps an annulment is the kindest thing we can do for each other."

"Yes, I believe it is. We both deserve a second chance at romance." She smiled to herself and brought her fingers up to trace the edges of the petals on top of her head.

"Then that's what we shall do. We shall both be free, and part amicably."

"Oh yes, very amicably. I must tell you one last thing, my dear."

"What is it?"

"I am leaving tonight, for Europe." Gomez was stunned, not expecting the sudden change in Ophelia. He was so used to her being unbearably clingy, that her announcement of departure seemed like it came out of nowhere. Then he understood, a slight grin pulling at his lips.

"I see. It seems you have already found your second chance."

Ophelia blushed.

"I have been faithful to you dear Gomez, but I love myself too much to continue to live unhappily. Vlad has swept me off my feet, and I do not have any intention on being returned to the ground."

"I am happy for you, Ophelia. Truly, I am. Consider yourself free from your marital vows."

She flashed him a smile and stood. Gomez started to return to his tormented state of introversion, done with their conversation. Ophelia's eyes moved from him to the stack of letters, once again observing the delicate script. She started to leave the room, happy that she was embarking on a new exciting life.

"Goodbye wan Gomez."

He glanced up to see her standing halfway out the doorway. Their eyes locked for a second.

"I would answer her." Her statement confused him, so she motioned to the letters. "I know my sister, and she can be very persistent in order to get what she wants." At that, she left leaving Gomez staring open mouthed at the empty doorway.