Lord Theodore's Favorite Ritual
Chapter 123: Bringing Lydia Back.

Chapter 123: Bringing Lydia Back.

Afternoon.

Arley Streets.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

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"Come purchase fresh fruits, there’s a discount if you purchase a good amount" a woman’s voice met the lord and lady just as they stepped into the market.

They continued their walk with an unconcealed eagerness to explore the market.

"If you do not buy my fruits, how then would you be fruitful?" her audacious question paused the couple.

Lydia chuckled as she tugged at Theodore’s arm.

"She is good Theo, let us buy," she said, they turned to the seller, she didn’t have a shop but a barrow on the roadside.

"All hodgepodge of them please," Lydia asked, her head resting on Theodore’s shoulder. The seller quickly began to gather an assortment of fruits into a basket.

"So posh, mother they must be noble" the sellers’ daughter whispered but they all heard it.

The mother nudges the daughter before glaring at her. "Shh do not piss them off"

After the complete packaging, the seller added fresh red bananas onto the bunch as she held Lydia’s ocean-blue eyes. "There’s a lingering sadness in your eyes, these bananas from the north will bring you happiness" Lydia melted.

"Thank you" she whispered gratefully with a quivering chin.

Theodore rubbed Lydia’s back before he took out Crits and said the lady.

She took it with two hands before her eyes widened. "Oh oh thank you so much, my lord, thank you" the seller thanked Theodore profusely after he paid a hefty amount to her.

He loved when people loved his wife. Women at least.

The twins, Gabriel and Tom who had followed the couple took the purchase and they resumed their walk.

Amidst the bustling marketplace, the cobbled streets echoed with the chatter of vendors and the occasional clang of metal as a blacksmith hammered away in his workshop.

They reached an area and the air was filled with the aroma of spices, freshly baked bread, and the sweet scent of flowers from the nearby florist.

Theodore and Lydia strolled hand in hand through the maze of stalls, their attire evoking elegance.

Theodore, tall and distinguished with a neatly shaved face, wore a tailored suit and a bowler hat, while Lydia, demure and graceful, donned a flowing gown with delicate lace detailing.

They paused at various stalls, inspecting fruits, vegetables, and fabrics with keen interest.

Lydia’s eyes sparkled as she admired a bouquet of vibrant blooms, while Theodore carefully examined the craftsmanship of a pocket watch displayed in a jeweller’s window.

They didn’t have to purchase much but they did buy while the twins that had followed them took the goods to the carriage.

As they wandered deeper into the marketplace, they found themselves drawn towards the familiar sight of a quaint tavern nestled in a corner. It was the same tavern Theodore had taken her to during their first outing as newlyweds, a memory that still held a special place in their hearts.

With a shared smile and a sense of nostalgia, they pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped into the lively ambience of the tavern.

The air reverberated with the lively tunes of a guitar and the animated chatter of patrons.

Finding a secluded corner, Theodore guided Lydia and they settled into their seats, despite their modest attire it stood out amidst the eclectic mix of denizens.

With a sense of comfort and familiarity, they ordered their favourite dishes and raised their glasses in a silent toast to the enduring bond they shared.

Amidst the warmth of the tavern and the gentle hum of conversation, Theodore and Lydia found solace in each other’s company, grateful for the simple joys of life and the enduring love that had brought them together.

But as they got home that day with soft smiles and love in their eyes, when night came Lydia still retreated and succumbed to her sadness with her friend, ’the lady’s rum’ in her hand.

Theodore felt defeated yet again.

*

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*

Five days later.

Library, Theodore Mansion.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

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It has been a week since the big loss in the Theodore mansion.

Theodore had tried all he could but when night reached Lydia would go back to grieving every night. With her rum between her lips and her sorrow in or flowing out of her eyes.

After that outing to the marketplace where he knew she felt ordinary, she had yet to smile again.

Helena had also come to the mansion only yesterday but she left soon later, Lydia had been sleeping.

With a heavy heart and a mind clouded by desperation, Theodore sat beside his wife, watching her crumble beneath the weight of her grief.

Every day seemed darker, the shadows of their loss casting a pall over their once-vibrant home. He longed to ease her burden, to see her smile again, but his efforts had been in vain.

As he studied her tear-stained face, an audacious thought took root in his mind – perhaps, by shouldering the blame himself, he could free her from the shackles of guilt.

With a mix of trepidation and determination, he crafted a plan to employ reverse psychology, hoping to redirect her anguish towards him instead.

Steeling himself for what lay ahead, he approached her with a faltering resolve, ready to offer himself as a sacrificial lamb to absolve her of her perceived sins.

It was a gamble, fraught with uncertainty, but in the depths of his love for her, he found the strength to take the risk.

As evening came and he went back home from work that day, it was to his surprise that she was still sober and dressed beautifully as always in her night dress.

"Gooseberry?" he called.

She turned to him and he felt attacked by the reddening around her eyes, the swell and the emptiness.

"I come to you with great shame Lydia for I have failed you again" he whispered.

Her chin wobbled.

"Stop" she demanded.

He shook his head as he continued. "If I have ever told you to trust me it is time you begin to doubt me because -"

"Stop" She cuts him off, as her face looks like she just got stabbed.

His head lowered and he sighed. "I am not enough, and I do not think anything I do will ever-"

She cut him off sharply. "Stop! Theodore stop! You are enough" she screeched her eyes hardening.

"We lost our baby?"

With bated breath, he confessed intentionally, bracing for her reaction. Would she see through his facade, or would his sacrifice be enough to grant her the forgiveness she so desperately sought?

Only time would tell, but for now, he clung to the fragile hope that his selfless act would be the key to her healing.

She sniffed, nodding she approached him."Yes, but I have you and I have me and you have me" she said in a whisper.

"You did not accept that before" he pointed out

"I do now, I am sorry" she mumbled as she reached him and placed a palm on his chest.

"No, I am sorry Gooseberry" he replied drawing her nearer.

"I should have been careful" she muttered hugging his midsection.

He kissed her hair. "I should have protected you better" he retorted.

"I love you" she declared before she met his eyes. "I could kiss you right now but my mouth stinks of all the alcohol-"

He cuts her off now. "I could kiss you right now and I will"

And just like that, he does.

He kissed her as though his life depended on it.

As the moon cast its gentle glow upon the quiet park bench, Theodore and Lydia sat close, their hearts heavy with the weight of their conversation.

Words had flowed like a river, carrying with them the burdens of their guilt and the uncertainties of their futures.

Lydia’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. Theodore held her, his own emotions raw and exposed.

In the silence that followed, the air seemed thick with emotion, the tension between them palpable.

Slowly, as if drawn by an invisible force, they leaned in, their lips meeting in a tender yet fervent kiss.

It was as if the universe itself held its breath, bearing witness to the raw intimacy unfolding between them.

Their kiss was a symphony of emotions, a merging of souls seeking solace in each other’s embrace.

Lydia’s hands found their way to Theodore’s face, fingers trembling as they traced the contours of his jawline, while Theodore’s arms enveloped her, pulling her close as if afraid she might slip away.

Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in each other, the world around them fading into insignificance.

In that moment, their brokenness became their strength, their shared pain forging a connection stronger than any words could convey.

Eventually, they pulled apart, their breaths mingling in the cool night air.

But the bond they had forged in that fleeting moment remained a beacon of hope amidst the darkness that had threatened to consume them.

And as they gazed into each other’s eyes, they knew that together, they could weather any storm that lay ahead.

No guilt, regret or rum.