Keep My Heart- Prologue

Keep My Heart- 8

"You can close your eyes to the things you don't want to see, but you can't close your heart to the things you don't want to feel."

-Johnny Depp

The bird in the cage resembled her heart, and Olivia watched it pass by.

She did not want to be here. This was a difficult day. More than anything she had wished to forget everything between the rise and fall of Rashleigh and herself. It hurt, to remember, how she had bent over backwards to please him. How she had abandoned her religious convictions for him, and idolized him. And in the end, when she had still been holding on, he had thrown her to the dust.

The most excruciating part? He did not care. All of his promises, were nothing. He had promised her an eternity of love and gave her nothing but heartache.

She swallowed tears, and glanced at her husband. He stood so tall, and she wondered if he had ever known such heartbreak. Surely not, it was entirely true whenever stated, men and women are different. As she had invested her whole self in Rashleigh, he had cast her away. And she had, given everything. That was the kind of person Olivia was. Either she gave her whole spirit or nothing at all. True, it sounded cold. She had been married to Adam Hawke for two years and he had nothing or very little of her.

The port was very busy today. It made her recall the day from two years gone, when she had entered this strange world she inhabited. The sky was drab and the clouds hung heavily, ominously, and spoke of rain. She hoped it would not. Her velvet riding gown would be soiled and she could not have that. On this trying day, she looked quite splendid and beautifully melancholy, amid the colorless, quickly moving world.

A few feet away, Adam stood, back straight, facing away from her. They had spoken only once since the other day, and that had been only this morning when he asked her to accompany him. He stood by, expressionless. His features were hard and wrenchingly cryptic. By his sides, his hands flexed and she watched his straight, strong back. It never quivered with hurt or anger, as hers did. Adam was entirely unfeeling and numb. She wished she shared such a trait. To appaear entirely sibylline, and emotionally obscure.

"Mrs. Hawke, the clouds are quite baleful, I suggest you go into the restraunt and have a cup of tea," he stated, and glanced at her with those greenish eyes, carelessly.

She did not want a cup of tea. However, she bowed her head. "Very well, Mr. Hawke." And that was the way married folk addressed one another in public. Never, ever by their Christian names, that was most unacceptable.

With this, he escorted her over to the restraunt, and had a pot of tea brought out to her.

"I will return with our...honorable visitants."

She could not suppress her scoff. "Very well." He hesitated, looking down at her for a longer moment, as if he was struggling with words. As if he had something he needed to say to her. Olivia observed that his face was not as remote as she had noted earlier. His eyes read something she could not, and it made her uncomfortable. "You had better go and meet them now, Mr. Hawke," she said coldly, and set about with making herself cozy.

His footsteps were heavy as he strode away. She tried her hardest not to sneak a glance, but did so anyway.

Why were things so difficult between them? He was so...distant lately. Of course, she had always put up a bit of a fence between them, to keep safe, but this was absolutely nonsensical. There was no other manner of thinking it. This was absurd. He behaved as though he barely knew her.

Shuddering, she fingered the tongs for the sugar cubes and furtively dropped four sparkling white cubes into her tea cup. If there was one thing that would not be beneficial for the day, it would be bitter tea. Sweetness was something her entire existence had lacked; from her first day to now. Her parents had been strict, and that had been troublesome, even despite the fact that she had always been a well-behaved child. She had been Ackley and Carling Cameron's only child, after a bout of unfortunate miscarriages.