friendships in a castle court, where the power-hungry vie for control."
Hm. Sounds a lot like the fashion-mag biz, if you ask me. A bunch of skinny, Gucci-clad prima donnas fighting as if their life depended on getting that cover-story byline. So often I've imagined a simpler life. A less glamorous job in a small town. One where people know their neighbors. Where families help each other out. Where you can make trustworthy friends. Marry trustworthy people.
"What about Maid Marian?" I ask, curious. I've been wondering about her: a major character in the Robin Hood legend but completely absent, from what I've seen. And after all, if I were to decide to start something with Robin Hood, I've got to size up the competition.
Robin scowls. "She chooses the life of a lady-in-waiting at Prince John's castle. She has no interest in coming out into the woods and getting her soft white hands dirty.''
Ah, I'm starting to see more why the guy's so bitter against women. He lost his titles and riches, and his chick went running in the other direction. Stupid gold-digging, uh, wench.
"That's pretty lame," I say. "If you two loved each other…"
"I loved her more than anything. Mayhap, I still do. But I cannot say whether she ever loved me or simply what I once had. All I know for certain is that she seems no longer interested in my affections."
"Are you sure? I mean, have you talked to her?" Oh jeez, I am the incurable matchmaker, aren't I? Still, I can't bear to hear the hurt in his voice without at least trying to Dear Abby.
"When I first returned from the Crusades, my only wish was to see her again. But after I became an outlaw, I realized I could not by right walk through the castle gates. So I risked all, sneaked into the city dressed as a beggar and climbed over a back wall into the castle gardens, desperate to find her. And I did find Marian there, but she was in the arms of another." Robin stops for a moment, and I can see his hard swallow. "She did not wait for me."
My heart pangs in my chest as I steal a glimpse of his hurt face. If only he knew how much I understood. That devastating moment when the world as you know it crashes down, when the one you love more than anyone betrays you in the worst possible way. I will never, ever be able to burn the image of Danny, skinny jeans down to his ankles in that bathroom stall. Him stopping when he heard someone opening the door. The color draining from his scruffy face as he realized it was me.
Time stopped. I don't know if I said anything. If I cried out my horror and surprise. The next thing I remember was running through the coffeehouse, Danny chasing me, still re-zipping his trousers. Calling my name. Begging for me to stop. To turn around. To give him a chance to explain.
But how can you explain something like that? Something so obvious? Danny, my first and only love. The one I gave my virginity to. The one who swore on our wedding day that he would be true till death. The same man who now saw fit to violate our marriage, our trust, our love, by sticking his cock into another person. Someone who didn't matter. And who knew if that was even the first time he'd done it? Working as a bartender, he'd had plenty of opportunities. Plenty of nights to come home late. Plenty of chances to betray me.
Robin hates women for what Marian did to him. I can see why. I definitely have a thing against certain men.
"Wow. I'm so sorry you had to go through that," I say, realizing I'd been lost in my own angry thoughts and hadn't properly responded. "That really sucks."
"Sucks?"
Oops. Gotta chill with the 21st century-isms. "That's terrible," I amend. "Very…bad."
"Aye."
I look at him thoughtfully. "Would you ever go back to her? If she came out to Sherwood Forest and asked for another chance?" I always wonder this about myself. If Danny begged for forgiveness, would I grant it? Or perhaps more importantly, should I? We vowed through good times and bad. I just never thought the bad
Hm. Sounds a lot like the fashion-mag biz, if you ask me. A bunch of skinny, Gucci-clad prima donnas fighting as if their life depended on getting that cover-story byline. So often I've imagined a simpler life. A less glamorous job in a small town. One where people know their neighbors. Where families help each other out. Where you can make trustworthy friends. Marry trustworthy people.
"What about Maid Marian?" I ask, curious. I've been wondering about her: a major character in the Robin Hood legend but completely absent, from what I've seen. And after all, if I were to decide to start something with Robin Hood, I've got to size up the competition.
Robin scowls. "She chooses the life of a lady-in-waiting at Prince John's castle. She has no interest in coming out into the woods and getting her soft white hands dirty.''
Ah, I'm starting to see more why the guy's so bitter against women. He lost his titles and riches, and his chick went running in the other direction. Stupid gold-digging, uh, wench.
"That's pretty lame," I say. "If you two loved each other…"
"I loved her more than anything. Mayhap, I still do. But I cannot say whether she ever loved me or simply what I once had. All I know for certain is that she seems no longer interested in my affections."
"Are you sure? I mean, have you talked to her?" Oh jeez, I am the incurable matchmaker, aren't I? Still, I can't bear to hear the hurt in his voice without at least trying to Dear Abby.
"When I first returned from the Crusades, my only wish was to see her again. But after I became an outlaw, I realized I could not by right walk through the castle gates. So I risked all, sneaked into the city dressed as a beggar and climbed over a back wall into the castle gardens, desperate to find her. And I did find Marian there, but she was in the arms of another." Robin stops for a moment, and I can see his hard swallow. "She did not wait for me."
My heart pangs in my chest as I steal a glimpse of his hurt face. If only he knew how much I understood. That devastating moment when the world as you know it crashes down, when the one you love more than anyone betrays you in the worst possible way. I will never, ever be able to burn the image of Danny, skinny jeans down to his ankles in that bathroom stall. Him stopping when he heard someone opening the door. The color draining from his scruffy face as he realized it was me.
Time stopped. I don't know if I said anything. If I cried out my horror and surprise. The next thing I remember was running through the coffeehouse, Danny chasing me, still re-zipping his trousers. Calling my name. Begging for me to stop. To turn around. To give him a chance to explain.
But how can you explain something like that? Something so obvious? Danny, my first and only love. The one I gave my virginity to. The one who swore on our wedding day that he would be true till death. The same man who now saw fit to violate our marriage, our trust, our love, by sticking his cock into another person. Someone who didn't matter. And who knew if that was even the first time he'd done it? Working as a bartender, he'd had plenty of opportunities. Plenty of nights to come home late. Plenty of chances to betray me.
Robin hates women for what Marian did to him. I can see why. I definitely have a thing against certain men.
"Wow. I'm so sorry you had to go through that," I say, realizing I'd been lost in my own angry thoughts and hadn't properly responded. "That really sucks."
"Sucks?"
Oops. Gotta chill with the 21st century-isms. "That's terrible," I amend. "Very…bad."
"Aye."
I look at him thoughtfully. "Would you ever go back to her? If she came out to Sherwood Forest and asked for another chance?" I always wonder this about myself. If Danny begged for forgiveness, would I grant it? Or perhaps more importantly, should I? We vowed through good times and bad. I just never thought the bad
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