February, 1798
Eliza

She was so tired of this. So many secrets. She had never meant for this to get so out of hand. Eliza hadn't seen Ezra since that night at Angelica's party, but there had been letters. Lots of letters.

They were love letters. They were, in all honestly, beautiful. They were reminiscent of those Alexander had sent her years ago (though she had to admit they were nowhere near as elegant). She didn't love Ezra, but the attention he was showing her was... refreshing. Not that Alexander ignored her. No, it was nothing like that. He was just so busy...

She had written back to Jamison a few times. Only about half a dozen times. While that might seem extensive, it was nothing compared to the over twenty he had sent her in the past month. You'd think Alexander would start to notice something was wrong, but he was rarely home anymore. His injury had set him back on the cases he was working on, so he had to put all of his focus on them.

They were in debt. She knew this. He was simply trying to provide for his family. Under normal circumstances, she would likely understand, but Ezra... he was so kind. He seemed to truly want to be with her. And he had the resources that he would barely need to work.

But, no. She loved her Alexander.

Even if she had purposely kept him at arm's length. It had nothing to do with him. She just felt so guilty.

There was the fear that he would find Jamison's letters, yet she couldn't bear to get rid of them.

And every time her lips met Alexander's, all she could think of was her betrayal. But was it really her fault? He had been the one to initiate everything...

She felt even more guilty having not stayed up to wait for her husband the previous night. She always had before when he was to return home. It was just... the thought of facing him made her feel ill. It was easier to retire to her bed early than to attempt to speak to him.

She really had never meant for anything to go this far.

Alexander had stayed for breakfast this morning (something he hadn't done in weeks). She attempted to make it as though nothing was wrong. He gave her a kiss and wished her a happy Valentines day. She hoped her discomfort didn't show.

After that he had left, saying he had things to finish up.

After morning chores were done, she retired to her room. Angelica was caring for William.

In her room, she was rereading the letters. So many of them. All confessing his love for her, explaining how she would have so much more in life if she was only with him, and how she deserved much more than to be the wife of a poor politician.

But she loved Alexander more than anything in this life. He was already full of so many insecurities. If he ever saw anything of this nature, it would not only set him off in a fit of rage but also cause his self-doubt to multiply at a dangerous rate. She would see even less of his as he would try to make up for all the money lost. It was the opposite of what she wanted.

And yet, when he was home, she could hardly look at him without feeling guilty.

A light knock at the door caused her to jump. Before she could hide the letters surrounding her, the door opened.

"Eliza, my dear."

She spun around, the paper forgotten. "Ezra?"

"It is me, my love." He entered the room, shutting the door behind him.

Eliza stood, some of the letters cascading over the side of the bed. "What are you doing here?"

"I had to see you." He came forward, lightly holding Eliza. "I simply couldn't bear to be apart from you any longer."

She took a step away from him, "Ezra, this is absurd. I am married."

"Yes, I understand. I do. But it changes nothing of my love toward you. He is away on business, this may be the last chance I get to speak to you!"

"Ezra, he's not-"

"Eliza please." He halted her, looking into her eyes pleadingly. "I love you. And I can offer you so much more than he ever can. Here you are, a wife and a mother, living in a small townhouse. Are you truly content with this? From what I can gather, he's rarely even home! He has made more political enemies than allies! Is this life you want?"

Her response was barely more than a whisper. "Please leave."

"You know its true." He was standing close to her now. His hands rested loosely on her arms. If she really wanted to get away she could. She should. "I can give you everything you deserve. You would never want for anything. Trust me."

With that plea, he leaned down. This time Eliza saw it coming. She wanted to pull away. Her mind was screaming for her to get out. Then his lips met hers and time seemed to halt. Her eyes slipped closed as he continued with the passionate kiss.

She knew it was wrong. Her mind was screaming for her to stop. But, she couldn't make herself stop.

Her eyes snapped open as the kiss ended. She heard yelling but felt remarkably disoriented.

Someone else was in the room. There was a blur of yelling and movement. A body was shoved up against the opposite wall. There were raised voices, but she couldn't understand who the other person was but...

"Alexander?" She gasped.

Her husband spun around. His eyes were blazing with anger. His breathing was heavy and laboured.

Eliza couldn't breathe. "Alexander, please, I-I can explain-" Could she though? What kind of explanation could she offer?

"Get out." His voice was low, dangerously low.

Eliza's heart was hammering in her chest. "Alexander, please-"

"You," he spun around glaring at Ezra, "get out."

Jamison's face was frozen in shock. Not at the words, but at the fact that Alexander had appeared at all. In his mind, her husband was still on business.

"I said, get out!" His voice rose to a shout. "Get out of my house!"

He grabbed Ezra by the shirt collar throwing him towards the door. The man regained his composure, throwing one last glance at Eliza before straightening his shirt and walking away. 

Hamilton stayed staring out the door. He was shaking, she could hear his trembling breaths from across the room.

"Alexander?"

He stayed frozen in place. There was nothing to even insinuate he had heard her.

Finally, after an eternity, he slightly turned. Only half of his face was visible, but even then she could see the tears.

"Why?" The harshness was gone, replaced by a brokeness she had rarely heard. This was a tone reserved for the late nights when the stress had finally gotten to him, when Jefferson had settled a particularly low blow or the origin of his birth caused his self-doubt to take over his common sense.

Never, never had she been the cause of it. Never had he looked at her like that. Never had the guilt of her husband's pain rested on her shoulders.

"Why? Why would you-? What did I-?"  He made a choking noise, then he was running back down the stairs.

"No, Alexander, please, wait!" It took her a moment to realize her face was wet. "Please?"

He stopped for a moment, his hand on the doorknob. "This explains so much. I thought, I thought it was me, but-" he shook his head as a tear-filled laugh made it's way past his lips. "Happy Valentines Day."

The door slammed shut behind him.

~TH~

Guys.
This chapter was so much fun to write.

I'm so proud of it.

Please let me know what you think!

How will Alex respond? What about Eliza? What about Ezra?

Love you guys ❤

God bless,
Jamie