Corrie spun around, startled to find a panting, red-faced Edwin standing before them. He sputtered for breath, leaning to rest his elbows against his knees.
"Edwin?" Corrie questioned, unsure if the color on his face was from rage or exertion.
"I...I knew it!" he declared, straightening and pointing an accusatory finger at the two of them. "I knew it. Cornelia, you have been cheating on me with this...this scoundrel! You betrayed me!"
Corrie balked for a moment, completely at a loss for words. Edwin appeared crazed as he still struggled to catch his breath.
"Edwin, what are you saying? We talked about this, and-"
"And yet," he raged, "here you are alone with him having an intimate conversation! Tell me what I am supposed to think?"
"Edwin, we're not alone!" Corrie defended herself. "Christina's right inside that door. How could you...how could you think this of me?"
Her voice faltered, and Corrie felt the blame she had placed on herself grow inside of her at his accusations.
"How can I blame you?" Edwin shouted, his voice wild. "You were here alone for months; why wouldn't you seek solace with the only man young enough to be my competition in this entire town? He took advantage of your grief to insert himself into your life!"
"That's not true!" Corrie cried, stepping closer to Edwin.
In his wild eyes darting to and fro, Corrie saw not only anger but raw pain. He felt betrayed by the fantasy he had decided to believe. Corrie felt a pang of sympathy for him, but he had deceived himself. She had not acted on her impulses; she had remained loyal at the cost of her own heart.
"And you!" Edwin said, brushing past Corrie to approach Dr. Benjamin who loomed inches above Edwin. "You knew she had a beau, yet you still have been by her side at every turn. You should have heard how she wrote about you in her letters. Dr. Benjamin this, Dr. Benjamin that. I would have thought you were a magician for the way she talked of your compassionate care and selfless service," Edwin's voice was mocking. "How dare you! She's not yours to have, she's mine!"
Dr. Benjamin pondered silently for a moment. "No, she's not mine, nor have I made any claims on her; she belongs entirely to herself. Miss Walker has remained steadfast and loyal to you despite your failure to visit her for months. She has never crossed the bounds of propriety. Any betrayal you may suspect certainly should not fall on her."
Edwin sneered. "So you're willing to take the fall for her, are you? Heroically accept the blame? I will not turn you into a martyr!"
Corrie approached Edwin and touched his arm softly. He seemed to wither under her touch into a mere shell of a man. "Edwin, your accusations are unfounded. Nothing has happened between Dr. Benjamin and me. You have to trust me."
He turned to look at her, and for a moment he looked like a child, not like the brash socialite she'd come to know. Edwin's round coffee eyes wanted to believe her, she could tell.
"Please, Edwin. Nothing happened," she murmured, expecting him to finally surrender to her insistence.
"I'm losing you to these...these people," Edwin spat vehemently, squaring his shoulders, and pushing past them both to force himself into Christina's room. "And you," Edwin cried at Christina who was staring at them all in shock. "You're the reason Cornelia left me behind and why she won't come back with me. You're the reason I'm losing her."
"Edwin, come on," Corrie said, this time grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the door.
"No!" he yelled. "I'm done here. You've obviously made your choice."
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