FollowedMyHeart

The First Row Broken china, spilled tea, and salty tears seem to be the order of the day and we haven’t even made it through breakfast. Elizabeth has stormed off in a fit of fresh tears leaving me to read my morning paper in peace. Things are not going according to plan, and I voice this sentiment to Betsy as she carries the remains of one of my mother’s finest teacups away. Betsy smiles sadly and pats my arm, “Things will get worse before they get better, sir. That’s my experience anyway.” I nod, but am not thoroughly convinced. I feel as though I should run after my wife and comfort her, but I have nothing to say