Sharing Corrie

Chapter Thirty

Edwin ripped his arm from her grasp and stormed off, his footsteps echoing through the hallway in the eerie silence he left behind. Corrie's heart hammered in her chest and she struggled to make sense of it all.

When she heard the front door bang shut, her lungs seemed to empty and Corrie steadied herself with a hand on the wall. She leaned against it, closing her eyes. Edwin was gone. Corrie tried to accept the blame for Edwin's behavior, but the ugly side of him that she had just seen affirmed that he was responsible for his own behavior. Perhaps she had hurt him, but it had never been intentional; she had remained faithful. She had not meant to leave him behind, but circumstances and duty had called her away and he seemed unable to accept her as anything more than the timid college poetess he had met in New York City.

"Corrie, are you alright?" Dr. Benjamin asked softly, and Corrie started at his use of her nickname.

She'd never heard her given name slip from his lips before, but now that it had, it nearly brought her to tears. She breathed in deeply. Edwin was gone. Her engagement was over nearly as soon as it had begun; Corrie knew the shame that this would attract to her and her parents' names, but she pushed the thought aside.

Edwin was gone, her one and only companion in New York City, her beau of nearly a year. The Edwin she had thought she knew was also gone, the congenial, charming socialite. He had been replaced by an insecure, capricious manchild. Corre could mourn the loss of who she thought he was, but not who he had actually shown himself to be.

"Miss Walker?" Dr. Benjamin asked again, touching her arm this time.

Corrie shook her arm instinctively, warning him off. Of all people, she could not accept his comfort as Edwin had accused her of doing. Christina and the doctor both watched her, pity on their faces, and Corrie felt her spirit darken. She was now to be the subject of censure and pity, destined to live a life of infamous spinsterhood because she had been left by her fiance. Corrie could not tolerate pity from her two closest friends.

"I'm fine," Corrie growled, seeking the exit.

"Miss Walker, I'm sorry, for my part in this," the doctor pleaded as she walked towards the door.

His words stopped her; how could he blame himself? "It's...it's not your fault," she murmured, refusing to turn back to him, her back straight and stiff. "You've done nothing wrong."

Corrie kept walking so she could not hear whether he denied or admitted guilt. She could not face the doctor and his suffocating kindness and care in the midst of Edwin's departure. When she reached the outdoors, she found storm clouds gathered over the town, washing it in a steady swathe of rain. Corrie clutched her hat to her head and ran into the storm. She was soaked to the bone within a few steps, her clothing sopping wet and clinging to her body as she sprinted down the streets. She saw faces peering through windows but ignored them, reaching her front door moments later. She stepped inside, tossing aside her jacket, shoes, and hat and ran towards her room, ignoring the concerned and curious calls of her parents.

Outside her room, a note was tacked to the door. Corrie recognized Edwin's elaborate cursive handwriting and she felt as if he had managed to punch her in the stomach again. He had accused her of cheating, insulted her character, and cast blame on the two people she most cared about in the world. What more could he have to say to her?

Dear Cornelia,

I apologize for my outburst and I hope you will forgive me on account of our long history together and the good memories we share. I have returned to New York City immediately. I need time to think and consider our future. I will call you within the week to discuss the future of our engagement.

All the best,

Edwin McAlister

Corrie stared at the letter in stunned silence, surprise and dread mixing within her to create a muted feeling of hopelessness. She had assumed that his tirade signified the end of their engagement, but his letter indicated otherwise. If the engagement were to be broken, it would be in her hands to make the decision.

Part of her screamed that the decision had already been made for her by his behavior that morning: doubting her, insulting her, vilifying her. However, some small part of her desired to remain loyal to him. He had certainly painted himself the fool in the past twenty four hours, but that didn't mean their marriage would be so miserable. There was something to be said for their long acquaintance, for Edwin's dedication to pursuing their courtship despite the complications. Perhaps she owed him a second chance. He had apologized, after all.

The final line of the poem Edwin had recited came to mind. "I shall but love thee better after death." Could she make such a promise to a man who clearly thought so little of her, to love him until death did them part? Could she promise to love him at all?  

~~~~~

Just when you think Corrie finally lost Edwin...not quite! What do you think of what Dr. B said about her? Was anyone else thrilled to hear Corrie finally call Edwin an "insecure, capricious manchild?" 

Thanks for the votes and comments! The support means the world to me.

~ Hannah