Andrew looked around the empty interior of his bakery. Money had been bleeding from his little bakery since his marriage to Rose, and he was preoccupied with being angry at himself for his own shortcomings. He'd lain with another woman mere months after marrying. He'd hurt her and she didn't know it yet, but the truth would always come out. He saw the stale wares that got left uneaten, unpurchased. Some of the loaves sat untouched because, bless the woman, Rose didn't know how to bake and would probably never be able to no matter how much he tried to show her. Perhaps it was because she was just so nervous around things because of her past.

And lord, had he tried to love her. He thought he had been in love with Rose, when really, it was the idea of not being alone that eventually led to his courting her. He felt guilty.

But thankfully, he had not let her come in today. He had things to clean up. He had yet to tell her, but he would have to sell the bakery. His dreams had been for naught and it was his own doing.

The man moved to gather up the bread that was still edible, putting it into burlap sacks for the children of the school. His friend, Uriel, had offered to take him on as hired help at his home. He would also have to sell the house he had just paid for in order to fix everything and make it right for Rose. He could do that much for her.

He would tell her the truth, even if it made her hate him. He would rather she know than pretend anymore. This wasn't what he wanted, nor was the random tupping with Ruth Longbottom. At least she was occupied with other things now and leaving him alone.

He would never touch another woman again no matter how he longed to. At least, nobody but Rose if she gave him the luxury of making it up to her and truly showing he meant to be a better man and proving it with every fiber of his being. He might not love her as a romantic partner like he thought, but his respect for her was enough to make things right as best as he could and for him to save what he could out of this whole situation.

It took him hours, thinking about her the whole time, but he had the displays emptied at some point. The clock chimed midnight and he rubbed at the back of his neck. He wanted to weep, himself, but tears would do him no good. He took the sacks of bread into the back room for the boy who would pick it up in the morning.

Andrew then took himself upstairs, sat down at the table that he'd eaten at as a bachelor. He pulled out the last of his money, counting it to be sure what he was doing had been the right choice. Normally, he would have talked to his wife for her opinion, but he felt it would just make things worse in the moment and he needed to figure out just how to get her to see he was going to give her better than he had, even if they didn't love each other.

She deserved to be cared for no matter what, and that is what he was going to do. With a heavy sigh, he began to look around him, at the legacy he was leaving behind. He'd worked so hard... For what? To make all kinds of errors in judgment and lose it all?

The man put the few coins away, it was enough they would at least be in comfort once Uriel was able to house him.

Then he finally put pen to paper and wrote a message for a messenger to send to Rose. It was simple and short, "We need to talk, but not right now. I have done you a disservice and wish to make it better. I don't think I can, but I would do whatever you ask if it makes it right with you. Please take these coins, hold on to them, and wait for me to summon you. All will be explained the way you deserve it." Then he folded it, put it into his coat pocket, and headed out of his shop for now, knowing he still had to finish selling things off.

He found a youth, one who grabbed up the farthing he handed. The boy took off with the letter and the coins. Andrew strolled down the street through the various businesses. Thriving shops, like his should have been. What a waste.

The day was waning fast when Tobias was finally done with his business in town. As he had dreaded, it was too late to return to Castleton today. The Magistrate’s, the post office, the bank - at every stop understaffing and people’s timewasting nonsense had delayed him. And then there had been his least favourite part of the day, a meeting with his delightful father-in-law. God almighty! He’d put up with ten mothers-in-law if it meant he’d never have to speak to Ben Ward again. He was exhausted and wished for the quiet comfort of his home. Instead, he was making his way to the White Horse inn.

“You can stay at mine,” Tristan had suggested that morning.

Tobias had briefly considered taking the offer, despite still feeling optimistic about the rest of the day’s planning, then. But Tristan seemed even more exhausted than Tobias was. He didn’t know what was weighing on his friend’s mind – “I’m fine,” was the eternal reply – but whatever it was, he didn’t want to add to his friend's troubles. And coming to think of it, he wanted to get away from the whole affair.

“It’s just a few small errands left, so I should be able to catch the four o’clock, but thank you,” he had excused himself.

The sun had long dropped behind the buildings. The light was fading. Tobias dug his hands in his pockets against the increasing cold. He looked around for the right turn and noticed a tall man with a somewhat familiar face turning the very same corner in his direction.

“Mr. Willaby!” he called out. He tipped his hat. Perhaps he should have used the man’s first name, as they were technically “brothers”. But he had met this member of his extended family, what, once? Maybe twice?

He wasn’t even in a mood to talk. But Rose’s husband had looked so miserable, that instinct had drawn the greeting out of him before good sense could stop him. “How do you do, sir?”

<slight cw> Reference to alcoholism

The tall man blinked in surprise when his new brother in law found him... He was his brother in law, right? His brow furrowed and then he remembered seeing the man at his wedding when his own spouse had made an interesting proposition that he had turned down for good reason. He gave the appropriate pause so Tobias could close the distance. "I am well enough, thank ye" he lied, his voice betraying him to reveal that he was actually not being honest. "And yerself?"

He was ever the pleasant chap, and offered his hand for a shake. "I don't think I've seen ye since Rose an' me wed." He was not even going to mention the incident he'd just thought of. It was bad enough the man had his poor, mad wife to contend with so he was not even close to bringing her up.

Regardless of the outcome of a possible handshake, once enough time had passed, he stuck his hands in his pockets and tried to relax. A pint would taste lovely right about then, but he had seen his friend struggle and wanted to stay sober for Uriel... and for himself.

Tobias shook the other man’s hand. Good God, Mr. Willaby sounded miserable as well. Tobias had convinced himself that no one had interpreted Alice’s flirtations as such – the only way he could bear what would be a scourging humiliation in any other reading – and he was therefore able to fully devote his attentions to this strange melancholy he sensed in the other. Was it the marriage? Rose had seemed a sensible lass. But appearances could deceive, as he now well knew. And who knew how she had been affected?

“Ah yes, I believe so. How is Rose?” he asked, perhaps slightly sadistically. In his defense, it was the polite thing to ask.

"She is well," he fibbed out if being polite. Truth be told, he was not aware of her feelings because she seemed so closed off at times. He tried to smile but it did not reach his eyes.

He wished she would have been more receptive to him in a few different ways. He did not feel as though he made the right choice to rush into this marriage only because he failed at giving her happiness. He felt like he had done all sorts of things that were wrong including sleeping with the woman he let stay in the apartment before she moved on. Last he knew and much to his relief, she was somevody else's cross to bear.

Not much of a talker, huh? Well, neither was Tobias. In another time, he would have gladly wished Mr. Willaby a good night. He could tell that the answer was not the full story. He could tell that Mr. Willaby was miserable. But he didn't care to hear it. He had had a long and intense day and he longed to be alone.

But Mr. Willaby was Rose's husband; there was clearly something on his mind - and as such, Tobias thought, he might be an ally.

"I'm on my way to the White Horse Inn for dinner. Would you care to join me?"