Set in the 19th century

This was not what happened, but there will not be a definite happy ending like my previous one.

There was a ruckus in the streets.

I peeked past a curtain. The children were at school.

I saw a procession of some sort. At first I thought it was a celebration or a funeral, but I noticed a few familiar faces.

George Washington.

Aaron Burr.

James Madison.

Thomas Jefferson.

And Alexander Hamilton, shuffling along in the back. Thomas and James kept shoving him to the front, though.

Across the street I saw my new neighbor Maria Reynolds watching out her window as well.

Thomas and James looked like they were simultaneously high and drunk. They were dancing on the stone roads in their fine tailored coats. They both had huge stacks of paper in their arms, and they were throwing them everywhere.

Sheets of paper littered my from yard and garden.

I slipped on my shoes and opened the door.

Thomas, Aaron, and James were singing and screaming.

"Never gonna be president now!"

"Hey!" I screamed. "What are you doing?"

They all looked at me. All except Alexander.

They murmured a bit. I didn't hear one single thing except for,

"His poor wife."

I rushed up to Alexander and placed my hands gently on his chest.

"What is this about? You can tell me. You know that, right?"

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth Schuyler."

I recoiled. "I'm your wife, Alexander. What is going on?"

He looked down and removed my hands from his chest. I grabbed his hands and held them tightly.

"I love you, Alexander," I said. "Whatever it is that you did, it can't be that bad."

"Ohh, but it is, Mrs. Hamilton," Thomas laughed, pushing me away from my husband.

"Mr. Jefferson," I said formally. "Would you care to fill me in?"

James came up behind him. He shoved a pamphlet at me.

"Just read, lady. We'll see if you still love him afterwards."

James spat on the ground next to my feet. The two walked away laughing.

I threw the paper to the ground and embraced Alexander.

"You're right, they are jerks," I muttered in his ear.

Alexander laughed a little, but the smile on his face immediately died.

"No, Elizabeth Schuyler," he said. "They are right for once. You can't love me anymore."

He hasn't called me by my maiden name in years.

"What?" I cried, "Alexander, have I done something wrong?"

He shook his head. "No."

He walked away from me.

The group walked away, and I was left staring in shock while the neighbors came out of their houses. They all had papers in their hands.

No one spoke to me. They only stared.

I grabbed a paper and ran up to Alexander and my bedroom to read it.

The Reynolds Pamphlet by Alexander Hamilton

Every sentence was torture to read. Alexander confessed to having an affair with Maria Reynolds and paying her husband money to keep it in the dark. While the children and I were visiting my father upstate.

Once I was done, I threw the pamphlet onto the floor.

I lit a candle and took out the love letters Alexander had written to me so long ago. I'd kept them in a chest for years.

I took each one out, one by one.

I reread each of them. Each were full of lies. False promises of his love.

I sobbed and set the first alight, then tossed it into a metal pail I had brought up.

The second caught fire.

And the third.

Then the fourth.

I dumped all of them into the pail, watching them burn and the smoke billow up.

Then I tossed the Reynolds Pamphlet in with the rest.

I didn't bother tearing them apart. Alexander had already done that.

I'm watching it burn...