Chapter 1

Every rose that I touch wilts at the beat of my heart. 

Samuel waited for me inside the shed behind the Benetis’ house. Just like every Thursday, he would have a wine he picked from the kitchen and a loaf of bread he picked up on the way. Just like every Thursday he will greet me with a smile and pull me inside; where we will talk, laugh, and enjoy one another.

 But not today. 

My hand trembled as he kissed it, a soft feathery touch that made me swoon each time. Any girl would feel lucky to be engulfed in Samuel Adams’ arms. Son of a low-class farmer, with enough grace on his face that makes all the ladies in Burlington swoon as he walks by. The most eligible bachelor was in the palm of my hands, ready to plush for me, and yet the impeding fear wouldn’t let me continue. My stomach tightened at the anxiousness of the words.

I just wanted to ignore everything and continue our usual Thursdays without any trouble. 

Yet the impediment will become more and more prominent. 

I had to act fast, and before we stepped into the rundown shed, I uttered the revelation that may have condemned my life. 

“I am with child.”

Samuel’s face morphed into a frown. The same frown that would sometimes appear on my father’s face whenever I did something terrible. I could not bear it whenever I got in trouble, the face of disappointment was far too much. Instead, I lowered my head and waited for him to say the words that I had been preparing to hear. With his words of comfort and love, I expected him to take me into his arms and continue to spend our day just like every other. Except for the wine of course. 

It never came. 

My eyes did not stray from his shadow as it became smaller and smaller. I could still smell the cinnamon that clung to him when he worked in the kitchen as his mother cooked. Perhaps it was the cinnamon or perhaps it was the engulfing anguish that overcame me, but the sickness that followed was not one of motherhood but from an insatiable anguish. As I sobbed I also prayed for my laments to reach his ears, for him to change his mind and rush back. 

What would I do without him?

My future was tied to his, we shared more than a scandalous secret. We shared life. He cannot abandon such a delicate thing. I thought about running after him and demanding he take on his responsibility. Yet, the fear that ran through my veins froze me about what could happen. His response was clear. Walking out was enough of a statement to be made, if his actions broke me, then the words he could say would kill me. 

I was not ready to become the wilted flower.