Her hair was dark and long, almost to the middle of her back. She had a glow in her eyes that I don't think I've seen imitated in anyone else.
Large, rosy cheekbones and dimples danced on her face. She took Alexander's arm with such grace while we were talking.
"Good evening, John!" she was bright and silvery, made of Christmas bells. She kissed Alexander on the cheek softly. He smiled at her with love in his eyes.
I remember when he glanced at me like that. The only difference between her and I is that she and him will not be hanged for smiling and glancing at her like he does.
"Will you excuse us for a minute, John?" Alexander bows his head to me, then wraps an arm around his dear Eliza as they saunter off.
My face becomes flushed, my heart pounds. Utter rage fills me and I want to flip these tables over, to destroy, to make sure Eliza knows exactly what she's doing-
No.
No, I can't do that to him.
If I truly loved him, I would let him be with the dark haired girl. I would let them be happy in their little cottage in Harlem (At least, that's the plan that Alexander told me about). But can I truly blame me for wanting to keep what was mine?
Elizabeth is an angel. Kind-hearted, gentle, compassionate. She has helped me out over the past couple years, making sure I had a place to stay, giving me food, even giving me connections to Martha, the woman I am supposed to be marrying within the next five years.
I have no idea what to do.