Betrayal

I am so very cold and wet. The freezing dampness surrounding me will not dissipate. Unable to shiver, it feels like my blood has drained from my body leaving me inert and unable to move, to breathe. I feel overwhelmed by the sticky heaviness of the drenched green velvet dress plastered against my legs, smeared with the mud I was dragged through.

But more wrenching than the physical coldness permeating my body, is the deep, bottomless void in my soul because of your betrayal. It will take thousands of lifetimes for me to heal from it. It will take thousands of lifetimes for us to heal from it. Your total betrayal against me. The betrayal of the one man I thought would love me forever. The one my heart completely trusted. You did this to me. You did this to me. I am so cold, my love.

Our love was illicit. We knew we were meant to be, but we also knew we never could be. I was married, and you were betrothed. But yet we dared to love; we dared to dream. Dreams of fools. Dreams of the damned. You wanted to run away with me, to get on a ship and sail far away. Maybe to America. Maybe to Australia. Anywhere, but Ireland, as long as we were together.

“We can start over.” You promised.

Instead, you caused this to happen to me. You made this unforgiveable betrayal happen. You told her about us. You could not keep our secret. You told her about our plans and our love. You thought you were being honorable. You wanted to set her free.

I rode out to meet you at the little garden by the sea you had planted and built so lovingly high up on the cliff overlooking the glorious waves crashing with divine syncopation against the jagged rocks. We were to meet like we always met. The beautiful place where we had made love so many times. Far away from my husband; far away from your betrothed. I had packed a picnic lunch -- cheese, crusty bread, and wine. And a soft blanket to lay together on. A blanket to love on.

I smelled the light scent of Gardenia before I heard her or felt the impact as she slammed against me pushing me over the cliff as I stood gazing out at the sea imagining a future with you. She wore the scent of Gardenia, your favorite. Her one luxury. I wore it also to please you. Her shove sent me stumbling over the cliff, unable to catch my balance as I plummeted onto the rocks on the shore of the sea we were going to sail away on. I felt the wind pull through my hair as I felt my body slam and break into so many pieces on the sharp slimy stones.

The last thing I heard was your scream. “Noooo!” I had no time to turn around for a final glance at you. No time to say good-bye.

Our dreams and heartfelt plans for eternal love ended in those mere moments of betrayal. We would not start anew. We would not love each other forever. Our eternity ended with my lifeless body on the rocks of hell she sent me to.

You fervently scrambled down the cliff to where I lay, my body too broken to breathe, wrapping me in your arms and warmth trying to will the life back down from the skies into my earthly body.

“Why?” you shouted at her… “Why?”

She just smiled a smirk, and said, “Because you are mine, and always will be.”

You wrapped me in the blanket I packed for us, and placed your grandmother’s rosary, which you always kept in your pocket, around my fingers and somehow managed to drag my body to the top of the cliff.

Overcome by shame and the overwhelming fear of our forbidden love being discovered, you buried me in the garden you built for us. You buried me in the cold, wet earth wrapped only in a blanket. I deserved better. No coffin, no last rites, no words from loved ones. Just icy cold dampness, and betrayal.

Today, you will marry her. She will approach you and become your bride as you smile and celebrate your new beginning with her and put the plans of our new beginning behind you. You will make promises to each other that you pray will cover the sacrilege you both committed. You will take her to bed and make love to her, like you did with me. But instead of the cold damp blanket that you laid me in, and the rosary clasped to my heart, you will build her a marital bed and give her the life you promised to me; she will build a life with you. She got you. You betrayed me.

I am so cold, and I’ve been cold for such a long time. My bones are becoming brittle and fragile as the earth takes me back. But the coldness is inconsequential to the devastation my soul suffered at your betrayal.

- Julie O'Hara 2023

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