Sanria stared at the books in front of her. She hadn't been back to the cottage yet. She knew Gilean would probably be wondering where she'd gone. No, she couldn't go back yet. She had something she had to do. In a hasty utterance of spell, she appeared beside Colin and before the man could look up, laid a smack across his face that left her hand stinging. "You could have fucked anyone in the whole of the realms..."
He didn't beg. He didn't plead. He barely said more than 'Yes' and 'No.'
"You win," she said, walking to the door.
"...no, not me."
"Yes. You. This is what you wanted. If not, you wouldn't have stuffed yourself inside my friend when she prostituted her body to you. Though, I suppose she's not my friend anymore. And neither are you."
"I'm sorry. And I understand."
His absolute agreement with her words made her furious and the well of pain that much deeper. "Anyone... and you chose her."
"And you chose Gilean."
"You KNOW why," she said, storming back to meet him eye to eye.
"Yes. I do. And, unfortunately, those reasons are right."
"But you came back to us, and if you had given me time to sort out how, I..." She stopped, her agony getting the better of her. What she was admitting... was so devious to the man she had wed.
"No, I'm sorry Sanria. There wasn't a way. But you and Gilean will be happy. You have Matinus and Nioma and your baby. Yours and his. You will be happy."
"No. We won't be, Colin... I don't trust anyone... and I never will again. I suppose it's just what I deserve after how I've lived my life."
"No Sanria... don't do that. He hasn't done anything to wrong you."
"The people closest to me... and one who keeps me alive... have run me into the ground. If the people closest to you can hurt you to the point of agony... who else is left to trust?"
Sanria left and walked into the forest. She followed the stream until she dropped to her knees and poured her soul onto the boulder at her side in the form of tears. She sat there for a long time, long after she had stopped crying. She never once looked up. She had finally reaped what she'd sewn... but no... she wasn't yet done. Not yet.
