Warning: Depictions of a very serious topic about infertility.
If you are not comfortable reading about such issues, please don't read ahead. Not to spoil, but this problem will come up time again and be used as an explanation for some plot points in the novel.
I, as the author, understand the disheartening issues around this topic and am aware of how infertility can impact some people's lives. I do not want to make a joke about such a topic and do not want to project my views on others. This is all fiction and I don't want to come off as rude or mocking.
Thank you!
—
Awoken by a chilly morning, Charlotte got out of bed and left the house.
The drowsy feeling coupled up with the cold yet warm early dawn creates a sense of nostalgia. The nostalgia of not particularly anything really, just the faint feeling of it.
Not thinking too much, she opened the shop and mentally prepare herself for a day of work.
What seemed like a normal morning was met with a surprise.
'I guess I was wrong...'
Here in the flesh, the vague yet dashing presence of the young girl graced the room as she walked in.
Her pale blonde hair fluttered as both of her hands gripped the handkerchief.
Showing an unfazed expression, severely trying to suppress her feelings, Charlotte once again met her piercing gaze and waited for her to initiate conversation.
The noise of the wind could be heard as she stood still at the entrance.
Charlotte, tempted to let up, continued to stare, her patience running thin.
When she was on the brink of breaking, the young girl spoke up, "I'm here to return... the handkerchief"
Her soft voice echoed throughout the shop as, with each word, her volume decreased.
Raising an eyebrow, Charlotte replied, "You really didn't need to do so. I told you to keep the handkerchief."
"I just... wanted to return it."
While not fully convinced of her excuse, she reached out her hand in a grabbing motion, insinuating her to give Charlotte the handkerchief.
The girl strolled up to the counter and quietly spoke, "My name is... Charlie Blossom, it is nice to be acquainted with you."
"I am Charlotte Whitelock, the pleasure is mine."
Hesitantly, she continued "I- That day- many things happened and I- couldn't control myself."
Charlotte motioned for her to continue while she took the handkerchief.
"Well- I- separated with someone I love- and I-" tears started to well up.
'A break-up?'
In an attempt to comfort her, Charlotte spoke up, "These things are hard to deal with. It takes time to heal old wounds."
But the girl shook her head.
"No- I- I am the one at fault. It's because of me that he- It's all my fault-" she begins to cry.
Leaving the counter, she hugged her lightly to calm her down.
"I- just want to make sure..." she mumbles and tears stream down her face.
"It's alright," Charlotte cooed.
After a few minutes, she stopped crying and seemed to have calmed down.
Charlotte went to the back and offered a glass of water.
"Thank you," she said while she took the water.
Sighing, she began explaining.
"I- have a condition where I can't... conceive. We... have been together for a while now and, naturally, the topic of starting a family came up. We planned to get married... and build our family-" she chokes between sobs.
"We partake... in activities... several times, but there were no results. We went to the doctor and... we found out I was infertile- and-" she once again broke down.
Lightly patting her back, Charlotte continued to calm her again.
"I- it's my fault in the first place-"
"No, not at all. You can't control your body or the environment you live in. These factors affect your body in different ways-"
"No-" she cuts Charlotte off.
As if about to say something, she then lightly bit her lip and kept quiet.
Charlotte took another look at her then packed up a pastry and gave it to her.
"Take it, it's for free. Please cheer up, the world isn't going to end with one break-up. Who knows what might happen?" Charlotte lightly smiled.
Taking the pastry and wiping the corners of her eyes, "Thank you again, really. I seem to only bring you trouble."
"Not at all, I was happy I could help you vent a bit."
"Really, you are very kind."
She politely curtsied and walked out. She held the door handle and turned around. Her gaze once again intensely lands on Charlotte's.
"Do you mind... if I come again?"
Charlotte smiled, "I'll be here with open arms."
Making sure she left, Charlotte then deeply sighed.
'It seems like she has been through some rough places.'
All of a sudden, Charlotte felt an intense stare. As if it was carefully and meticulously watching her every move.
Tightening her muscle, she stared out the window, boldly wishing to meet the gaze of the perpetrator.
'Nothing. What was that?'
A chill went down her spine.
'I should be extra careful from here on out. I've got a feeling that helping that girl was a bad idea.'
Charlotte sighed.
'But it seems like she is hiding something...'
'I mean, will a man who really loves a woman leave them because they are infertile?'
'Well, depending on the people, some really want to start a family while others really don't.'
'Ah, I don't want to dive deeper into that strand of thought. Some people will leave their partner if they have different goals, despite still having feelings for them.'
'Not to mention, the way people act in this era, I still find it a bit out of place that he would leave her.'
'But what do I know about love anyway? There are some things better left unmentioned.'
Concluding her thoughts, she went outside her shop.
She met a young boy who was giving out newspapers for a pound and grabbed a copy.
It read Tuesday, April 10, 1888.
'No time skip this time huh? It seems like the story needed to flow in a certain direction so it kept the time the same.'
'Probably can't say the same for "tomorrow".'
'I didn't meet Adam or the detective, so it means today has nothing to do with the murder, or does it?'
'What role does Charlie Blossom play? And the name itself sounds so made up.'
'How does she tie into the story?'
Walking back to her shop she dwelled in her thoughts.
"Only time will tell."