Chapter Fifty-Nine: Falling Angel:

What has become of my wife? Her light kept dying away each day. Her eyes look so empty. She lay on her bed, looking at me. I don’t know how or why we hung on as long as we did. We ended up having two more children before I finally let her go. At the time, I still believed that there was a chance that things would get better. My subjects weren’t so convinced that it was going to work. Still, I couldn’t let her go. Looking back, it would’ve been better if I did.

I still took care of our sons and ran the kingdom. Somebody had to do it. The war would be over in a year. Maybe then I could finally get some rest. For now, I had to keep everything running. Even so, I would go to visit Madonna. We barely talk anymore. She just lays on her bed and stares at the ceiling. I stroked her hair and kissed her on the cheek.

“Hello, my love,” I whispered. She didn’t respond.

“Our children miss you,” I said. “I miss you too.” Tears ran down her cheeks. How did it end up like this? It wasn’t supposed to be this way. The dream of the happy family was going up in flames again. Maybe I couldn’t save it this time. But something inside of me wouldn’t let this go. She was my wife after all. That had to count for something, right? Right?

This was all of visits. I would be the only one talking. Madonna would just stare at the ceiling. The nurses came in and fed and gave her water. I didn’t know what to do. I watched the doctor tend to her one evening.

“How is she, doc?” I asked. He turned to me, shaking his head.

“Not good,” he said. “Physically, she’s okay. But her mental state…”

“Is there anything you can do to fix it?” I asked.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I can’t do anything about that sort of thing. It’s out of my depths.”

“So… I’m supposed to let her be like this?” I asked. The doctor lowered his head.

“I’m so sorry, my lord,” he said. “Excuse me.” He turned and walked out of the room. I turned and looked at my wife. A tear ran down her cheeks.

“Madonna…” I said.

I still wouldn’t give up. I didn’t know why I couldn’t just give up. I guess desperation knows no bounds. One evening, I think we both made it worse. I was about to leave when my ears caught murmuring. I stopped and looked behind me. My wife was still lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Curious, I walked back over to her bed.

“What did you say, darling?” I asked. I knelt my ear down to her lips.

“Kiss… me…” she said. I froze.

“What?” I asked. She didn’t look at me.

“Kiss… me…” Madonna said again. My heart jumped in my chest. I shouldn’t be doing this. I should’ve turned and walked out the door. I should’ve ended it then and there. I should’ve let her go.

I leaned down and kissed her on the lips. She didn’t move. I leaned down and kissed her on the lips again. One thing led to another, and I ended up in her bed again. Madonna didn’t move to stop me. She didn’t even try to push me off. I wasn’t sure if I should be doing this or not. It just happened. We just slept together in her bed.

I tried to avoid her for the next couple of weeks. I was afraid that what happened that night was going to happen again. When I did go to see Madonna, my visits didn’t stay long in fear of what would happen next.

Days later, the news I dreaded hit me again. How was this possible? It was just the one time. But still, here we were again.

My wife was pregnant—again. Oh shit.