I stand in Ella's room, blinking wordlessly at the door.

Damon just left... so abruptly.

We had been standing here, talking about Mary. He had gone silent. I kept watching him, waiting for him to speak. I enjoyed having the time for us, just him and I without anything else to take our attention away. As the silence had stretched on, I saw his eyes change. They flickered and became warmer and warmer until I felt as though I was 17 again, staring into the eyes of the man I would have thrown away the world for. I felt as though I was transported back to before Ella was born, before Emmanuel tore my life apart, before my stupidity ruined me. For a moment, I was me again, the old Eloise and I loved it.

I love you. I had thought and then almost as though he had heard it, his guard shot up and his eyes darkened once more. He had mumbled something I have yet to comprehend and then left without even a mere glance in my direction. He did not look back, not even once, just like when he left at the railway station all those years ago.

What goes through Damon's head? What does he think when he looks at me? How can he even bear to be in my presence after everything I did to him?

My head is filled with so many questions.

Shaking my head to rid it of these intrusive thoughts, I glance back once more at Ella, who is still sleeping soundly, her little chest rising and falling with each breath. Sighing, I compose myself and leave the room, making my way to my own bedroom.

Before sitting on my bed, I reach under it to retrieve my box of treasures. The box that contains all the memories I have left of my short-lived marriage to Damon. We have lived married, yet separate for six years. To Damon and to the rest of society, Emmanuel was my husband. For me, the only marriage I hold true to is my union with Damon. He was my husband and will forever be.

All those years ago, when Emmanuel found out where Damon and I was, he presented me with a divorce. I accepted heartily, despite it meaning that I would lose everything – my title of Lady, the pittance of wealth I had after my marriage to Emmanuel and anything else that I possessed whilst living in Emmanuel's estate.

The day after Emmanuel left, I sent word to my mother to get my marriage to Damon officially registered. I knew that Damon was gone. I knew that he was not coming back. That made me want to be his in every way possible. I finally adopted his last name and became Mrs Eloise Wilcox. I do not know what he would say if he found out.

A tear rolls down my cheek, dripping into the box, mingling with the contents inside. I wish he knew. I wish he knew how I feel about him. I wish he knew much I still love him, how much I want him to hold me and cherish me and love me just the way that he used to do. I wish to lay with him and whisper lost phrases, I wish to hold his hand and feel the callouses formed by years of hard labour, I wish to rest my head on his shoulder and feel his breaths as he inhales.

I wish that he knew why I had to do what I did.

Before I know it, tears are gushing from my eyes and my body is racked with silent sobs. Sobbing without a sound is an art form I have mastered in the last six years. There has not been a night where I have not cried for my lost love. My Damon. He taught me how to love and live, he showed me what it means to be true to yourself in the most unapologetic way.

He is the sand to my sea. I may venture far, so far that I become invisible, but I will always come crashing back to him. I will always seek him and embrace his presence, I will always protect him, like the sea always returns to the sand on the beach. No matter how many storms and clouds batter me backwards and hinder my return, I will always beat my way through and return to my Damon.

Closing my box of treasures, I lay down, pulling the covers over me. I hug the box close and sob into it, unaware of when sleep claims me for its own.

---

"Mummy, are you ready?" Ella twirls into the kitchen, her dark hair twisted into a halo braid, her sunny yellow dress billowing around her. "I want to go to the markets now."

"Almost, almost, my darling." I call to her, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as I bundle my pouch full of coins into my basket.

The Tuesday markets always have the freshest produce. Getting there before the crowds is a must if I want the food for the rest of the week to be at least half decent. Every week is the same. I am in a frenzy to get ready and Ella is in a frenzy to go.

Like her mother, she loves to haggle. She gets away with it more often than her mother, too. I blame those beautiful eyes – no one in their right mind can refuse them for long.

"Mummy, Mister Damon is here too. He wishes to go with us. May he come?" Ella looks up at me with those eyes, widening them in the most adorable fashion. She knows exactly how to get what she wants.

"Damon is here?" I question.

Behind her, Damon enters the room, looking as ravishing as ever. His eyes gleam as he says, "Yes, it is I, the one and only!"

"Please, let him come, Mummy!" Ella pleads.

"Yes, please let me come!" Damon mirrors Ella's facial expression, joining his hands to me in a begging motion.

I blink at them both, taken aback by how strikingly similar they are. "Um, okay."

The words slip out of my mouth before I can take them back. Stupid! The whole village turns out for the Tuesday markets. There will be gossip spreading through town before sundown about the mother who lives alone and the eligible bachelor she has snagged for herself. I groan inwardly, trying to meet Damon's eye so I can convince him not to go. It is to no avail – he is too consumed in tickling Ella, who is screeching and giggling all at once.

I sigh. Nothing can be done now. I have told Ella he may join us and I do not have the heart to disappoint her. If there is a person who possesses the audacity to say something to me upfront, then I shall deal with that when the time comes.

For now, we must get to the markets.

As usual, the markets are bustling and loud. All of the stalls have been set up, manned by their respective owners, whose eyes are glinting with the prospects of the profit they will take home today. They are quite conniving, the Tuesday market stall owners. Over the years, I have been scammed quite often. They are skilled at making you think you are getting a bargain, when in actuality, you are paying not much less than their original price. Today, I will not allow them to get the upper hand.

Taking a deep breath, I tighten my grasp on Ella's hand and dive into the crowds, aiming straight for the vegetable stall. I am quite familiar with the owner, he has been coming here for several years now. He is one of the kinder owners and over the years, he has given me his best produce and advised me on which stalls to attend and which to avoid.

"Hello, my lady!" He calls as I approach. "How are you today? And you, my little princess, how is life treating you?"

Ella beams up at him. "Very well, sir. Thank you."

"How is everything looking this week, Henry?" I ask, scanning the vegetables. The potatoes seemed of good quality, the parsnips seemed poorer than last week's batch but the turnips looked wonderful.

"Well, Miss, as you can see, it's a mixed bunch today." Henry says, looking down at his wares. "I would advise avoiding the parsnips for this week, but the potatoes are grand."

"Do you not have anything special, sir?" Ella pipes up from next to me.

Henry's eyes warm as he beams down at her, "Well, little lady, I may have something just for you."

He bends down to rummage in one of the shelves at his side of the stall and takes out a brown paper bag. "Inside this are some currants. Tonight, my dear, with the help of your mother, you may be lucky enough to feast on a currant pie!"

I look at Henry in shock. Currant pie is only for the richest of the rich, I cannot possibly afford this.

"Henry! No, this is too much. That is above my budget, I am afraid." I try to prise the bag from Ella's' hand, who is looking up at me with wide eyes, clutching her prize.

"My lady, I will reduce the price for you." Henry insists, looking worriedly at Ella.

I frown at her when she refuses to let go of the bag. "Ella, listen to Mummy. This is too much for us."

"But, Mummy, I have never had currant pie before!" Ella tries to snatch the bag away from me.

"Ella, I will ask Mamma Adeline to make you currant pie when we next see her. Now, give me that bag." I say sternly, attempting to pull the bag from her grasp.

A hand covers mine and a shot of electricity pulses through it. I look back to see Damon standing there. His hand is on mine. I completely forgot he was here with us.

He stares down at me and then switches his gaze to Henry. "How much are the currants?"

"Well..." Henry stutters, just as taken aback by Damon's presence as I. "I usually charge five pounds for these luxuries, but I was going to discount it to two for the lady."

Damon reaches into his pockets and removes his wallet. He sifts through some coins before reaching in and handing Henry a handful.

"There you are." He says. "Ten pounds, five for the currants and five for your generosity."

I stare at Damon, my jaw dropping. Henry has the same expression on his face.

"Kind sir," He splutters. "I appreciate this, but no. Eloise is my treasured customer and I just cannot –"

"Take the money, my friend." Damon insists. "I am sure you have mouths to feed. Use this to give them a treat."

Henry hesitates. Despite his tense posture, his eyes are pools of wonder and gratitude. Reaching out a hand, he tentatively takes the money as though he is afraid that Damon is about to withdraw the offer any second now.

"Thank you very much for your business." Damon keeps his face straight and then bends down to scoop Ella into his arms.

She beams at him and wraps her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek against his in a hug. "Thank you, Mister Damon, thank you so much!"

For a moment, he is taken aback by the sudden display of affection and then his cheeks warm to a light pink and he smiles back at Ella. He turns on his heel and begins walking into the crowd, Ella directing him to the next stall.

"Eloise?"

I turn at Henry's voice.

His eyes are shining with emotion. "My children will eat heartily tonight. Please do pass on my well wishes to your husband, he has done me a mighty favour today."

"Oh, Henry, he is n– " I interrupt, trying to launch into the prepared explanation of Damon's identity when another voice pipes up from behind me.

"Eloise!" Damon is waiting for me a few feet away, Ella perched on his hip. "Come quickly, the crowds are growing and we will lose you!"

"Coming!" I shout back. Flashing a smile at Henry and giving promises of talking to him more at length next week, I scurry over to Damon. He is right. The crowd is beginning to thicken as more villagers spill into the square and it is all too easy to lose your companions. I have had a number of close calls with Ella when she was younger. Luckily, I almost always had Mary to keep an eye on her and stop her from getting too far.

As I approach the duo, Ella pushes out her lips into a pout. She frowns at me and then clutches the bag of currants closer to herself.

I sigh. "Ella, you may keep the currants. At least let me put them in the basket so you do not squash them."

Ella shakes her head, furrowing her brows even more. She looks at Damon, who gives her an encouraging look.

"Listen to your mother, Ella. The currants are yours now, she won't take them away."

With a huff, Ella holds the bag out and I take it from her, dropping it into the basket. Ella refuses to meet my gaze and I sigh again.

My daughter certainly knows how to hold a grudge.

Taking the lead, I begin my rounds of the stalls that I usually attend, gaining a modest supply of a variety of produce. I even manage to gain three well-sized loaves of bread, which will more than last us the week.

Beginning to tire, I decide the next stall will be the next. The stall I choose is selling a variety of mismatched items, such as wine, cream and lemons.

"Excuse me?" I call, attempting to gain the stall owner's attention. "I beg your pardon, but are these all ingredients for a recipe?"

"Why, yes, madam Eloise. It's nice to see you again." The pot-bellied man grins, revealing a set of grimy teeth. I recognise him as Neal, a favourite of the entire village. He comes to the Tuesday markets once a month, bringing with him the complete ingredients for a recipe, be that soup, appetiser or dessert. He is always a hit with the mothers who have many children. "These are all ingredients for syllabub."

"Oh, syllabub!" Damon chimes in. "What a treat! I love syllabub!"

He lowers Ella to the ground and begins inspecting the ingredients for the frothy, lemony drink.

Damon loves this. I had no idea this was a favourite of this. I peer into my pouch of coins. If I haggle, I may just have enough to buy the ingredients. This may be my only chance to cook something for Damon that is just for him alone. Just him, not me, not Ella or even Mary. It will simply be because this is his favourite. I cannot let this opportunity go.

"Please pack enough ingredients to make ten, Neal." I order.

"As you wish, madam."

Damon straightens up and looks at me in shock. I imagine I must have a similar expression when he paid for Ella's currants.

"Eloise, you do not have to buy this for me." Damon shakes his head.

"I'm not." I lie. "I like syllabub, so does Mary."

"I want syllablub too, Mummy." Ella chimes in.

I laugh at her pronunciation. "Maybe when you are older, my angel. This drink has wine in it, so it is only for adults."

Damon ruffles her hair, smiling. He takes the bag from Neal, thanking him after inspecting the wine and engaging in a short conversation about how it was sourced.

"Madam Eloise, your husband sure does know his drink." Neal chuckles.

Heat rushes to my cheeks as I avoid Damon's gaze. I knew this would happen. Now Neal will talk to the others and it will spread. My throat feels dry, I cannot speak to refute his assumption, even though I want to. Even Ella is squinting up at Neal in confusion. I do not even know if she knows what a husband is.

Neal continues, "I never even noticed how much your little girl resembles her father. You are like a miniature of your father, little one."

I want to shield Ella from him. I want to cover her ears. She cannot know. A father is the only thing she has longed for. If she discovers Damon is her father and then he leaves when his business here is over, my daughter will be devastated. She will wither into nothing.

"Ella's father?" A voice pipes up from my side.

My head whips to the side to see Mrs Hughes, a beak-nosed widow who lives with her son not too far from the square. She is known for being one of the most prolific of the village gossips.

Oh no.

"I thought Ella had no father." Mrs Hughes raises an eyebrow at me, her lips curling at the thought of the scandal she can spread around the village.

I cannot let this happen.

"Actually, I am sorry to disappoint you all. I am just a friend of the family, visiting on business."

The breath that is stuck in my throat is let out in a small, inaudible gasp as Damon stands in for me. I am sure there are tears in my eyes, they are burning too much for there not to be.

Neal nods. "Oh, I do apologise, sir. You just look so alike to the little one."

"No need, it is an easy mistake to make."

"Who is your wife, young man, if not our Eloise?" Mrs Hughes peers at him.

Damon looks over at me, but I keep my gaze firmly on the top of Ella's head. I cannot look at him, I cannot. This is too hard. A tear starts to fall from my eye and I quickly bring my hand to my face, pretending to scratch the side of my nose and wiping the tear away at the same time. Doing this here, doing this now, in front of my poor baby, this is too much. My heart is pounding much too fast and the market is beginning to swim in front of my eyes.

"I... well, nobody." Damon says sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

I close my eyes, turning my head away from both Damon and Mrs Hughes so they cannot see how much it pains me to hear his words. I should be his wife. He should be free to announce himself as Ella's father. Ella should know that her father is the man before her. Life has been so unfair to me. I want to turn and scream to Mrs Hughes to stop asking my husband questions, I want to tell her that Damon is mine and I am his and we are Ella's parents, but I cannot. I lost the right to do that a long time ago.

"A bachelor!" Mrs Hughes squeals. "Son, you must pay a visit to my house soon. I will gather the ladies, we all have unwed daughters. You need a life partner."

The pain in my chest is almost too much to bear. Is it not cruel enough that I must deny my marriage, now I am forced to listen to a meddling old woman attempt to lure the man I love into marrying her daughter?

My dizziness intensifies and I have to fight to keep my feet planted on the ground. I did not even notice, but my hands are on Ella's shoulders, keeping her in place. I hope my grip is not too tight.

"Oh, um, well, thank you for the offer." Damon stumbles over his words.

"Mummy, I am tired. May we go home now?" Ella shrugs my hands off her shoulders.

I nod and without saying a word to Damon, I grasp her hand and walk away at the fastest pace I can manage without having to run.

I hear Damon hastily mumble a goodbye behind me.

----

At home, I leave Ella with Mary in the kitchen and rush to the bedroom before Damon has the chance to look at me.

In my room, I collapse on the bed, allowing myself to cry freely. Despite my attempts to control myself, small strangled sounds escape my throat. I cannot stop them, no matter how hard I try.

I know that Damon is not mine any longer. I know that we must lead separate lives but fate is being too cruel to me. Having to listen to women vying for his attention, having to listen to women trying to arrange his marriage with their daughters, that is not something I can listen to without my emotions besting me.

I still love him. He is still my world. No matter how many times I tell myself the truth that is in front of my eyes, the seventeen-year-old Eloise in me still hopes that by some miracle, we could be together again. I do not know how it would happen, all I know is that he is all that I want.

The small strangled sounds are becoming louder and I know that it is only a matter of time before Ella, or worse Damon, hear me. I must quieten myself, I cannot be seen in this state by either of them.

Sitting up and taking a deep breath, I reach under the bed and take out my box. This is the only thing that might calm me right now. I need to see the evidence of Damon's love for me. I take his wedding ring from the box, holding it in my palm, staring down at the metal. How small and insignificant, yet how big and important this band is. This ring marked Damon as mine and my ring marked me as his. This ring was the biggest symbol of our marriage, it was what everyone saw and knew that we belonged to each other. It tied us together in the most eternal way.

I took this ring out to aid me in calming down, but suddenly, my cries seem louder than ever. They are deafening to my ears and I cannot stop them. The pain in my chest is back and it is worse than before, as though someone has taken a corset and is tightening it around my chest until I cannot breathe.

My free hand flies to my chest in attempt to slow the rapid pounding of my heart, I try to rake in deeper breaths in an attempt to calm myself and I try to focus on lowering the volume of my cries. I can do this, I remind myself. I have done this so many times when I worked myself into a frenzy and Ella was sleeping. I must regain my composure, I must.

A knock on the door breaks my focus and a pair of blue eyes peer round the door.

My box falls to the ground as I stare into those eyes, panicked.