The Morning After

I continued to sob as I laid in a fetal position on the other side of the bed. I attempted to hide my despair yet my body continued to shake from the feeling of his essence still inside of me.

Anger and humiliation only roused these tears as I wiped them, feverishly.

A woolen blanket was placed on top of my bare, defiled body and I grimaced.

“I don’t need your pity, Lord Varick.”

“Ah, so you do have some backbone left. I thought you church maids were like lambs, blind followers of a deceitful shepherd.”

I didn’t answer as I was overwhelmed with the tears flowing once more.

“Crying is for the weak, what do you gain from it, woman?”

“WHOSE FAULT IS IT THAT I FELT LIKE THIS?!” I yelled but the effect only made my swollen cheek hurt.

“You cried over a trifle deed,” he says, coldly. “This pain wouldn’t be nothing compared to childbirth.”

Words of mockery only sparked more anger as I gritted my teeth. I was certain he had no idea what childbirth felt and he had no right to lect