Raindrops pattered softly against the window. I let out a small sigh, barely looking up from the cup I was washing. I suppose I would have to wash the clothes some other day now. 

As I reached for my drying cloth it fell from the counter, landing on the floor. I knelt down to grab it, but as I did, my necklace slipped out from my collar. I froze at once, watching it dangle before my eyes. In no time, the edges of my world became a blur and a lump formed in my throat.

I snatched the rag from the floor and quickly brought it to my eyes. I shoved the necklace back inside my shirt without looking at it. Damn! Why did I still bother wearing this thing? All it ever brought me was misery and regrets.

And yet, I couldn't let it go. After all, how could I? She had given it to me. 

We had already spent so many years apart. I'll never forget my misery on the day she first left. The gentle feel of her hand against my cheek as she comforted me with tears in her eyes. It's just for three years, Darling. Just three little years. And then we'll always be together.

I always regretted letting her go. Maybe if I had found work somewhere, or maybe if I had gone with her, then maybe none of this would have ever happened. 

Instinctively, my hand reached up and clutched the necklace again. A beautifully crafted silver locket. The only extravagance she had ever purchased with her earnings. She had sent it along with a letter. The "last letter she would ever need to send me" as she wrote. The last letter before her big journey home.

"The Unsinkable Ship." That's what they called it. I would have laughed myself into hysterics if my grief hadn't driven me to it first. She wrote about it in her letter. She had made the acquaintance of a rather wealthy widow during her time in England and the lonely woman offered to pay her fare back in exchange for being her companion on the journey. Of course, how could she refuse? Doing so would not only save her hard-earned money but also give her a first-class ticket on the safest luxury ship to ever sail the seas. The Titanic. 

After the ship sank, I was nearly beside myself with misery. However, a glimmer of hope showed itself in the form of a survivors' list. In the sea of black ink, her name sailed out to me as if it were the only one present. For a time, that list was the only thing that held me together. I spent days, weeks, just waiting by the door for her. I wouldn't even sleep for fear that I would miss her when she arrived. My mother would often find me collapsed in the hallway in the early morning, asleep by that door.

But she never arrived. No more letters ever came in the mail. It was as if she had just disappeared. As time went on, my dreams of her faded into a colorless reality. Soon, I gave up entirely. 

Her name on that list must have been a mistake. Either someone confused her with another passenger, or there was somebody else with her name onboard, but one thing was certain: she wasn't coming back.

I had resigned myself to that fact by now, but that didn't mean her loss was any less devastating to me. Even nearly a year after the fact, I still found myself thinking of her. 

I was starting to wonder if this abrupt misery would just be a part of my life from now on when a knock suddenly interrupted my brooding. I quickly stood and tidied myself, only glancing briefly at my reflection in the window to make sure I didn't look a complete mess. 

"Coming!" I called out musically, hoping a cheery tone would somehow right my mood.

I forced a smile to my face as I unlatched the door, ready to greet whoever was there. However, that smile disappeared in an instant, as did all the blood from my face, because there, standing in front of me, was a ghost.

"Abigail!" It called, rushing forward and throwing its arms around me.

I stood there, stunned. After an embrace that seemed to last an eternity, it pulled away and looked at me. Although it had a smile on its face to begin with, that smile soon faded. Concern took its place.

"Abby?" 

It reached out and touched my cheek. Its fingers were damp and cold. I wondered why. Suddenly, it came to me.

"Ah, that's right. You drowned," I murmured, nodding gently to myself.

"Abby?" It said again, more concerned.

"Of course. That makes sense. You drowned. Of course, you would look that way."

It glanced down at its wet skirt and bodice before bringing its hand up to touch its soaked and matted hair. Understanding came to its face. 

"Ah, this! I'm sorry, I know, I must look a sight right now, but I just couldn't help it," it explained, reaching out and taking both of my hands in its own. "Oh, Abby, I've been nearly frantic with fear this past week. You weren't at your old home, no one would tell me anything about you, I was terrified that I truly might have lost you forever this time. If that newsboy on the corner hadn't overheard me...

But that doesn't matter. None of that matters. The moment he told me where you were, I ran here without a second thought. Without a first thought even. I just ran to you. 

Abby, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can only imagine what you've been going through all this time. But I'm back now. I'm home and we can finally-"

I yanked my hands from its grip and turned away quickly. I closed my eyes tightly and clamped my hands over my ears. 

No. Not real, not real. This thing couldn't be real. 

That's what I tried to tell myself. But the desperate way it gripped my wrists, the pain in its voice as it called out to me over and over, the tears streaming down its face as I finally opened my eyes to look at it. They were all too painfully real.

"Not real. Not real," I almost begged, my voice trembling.

"Abby..."

"No!" I said firmly, tears welling up in my eyes again. "You're not real. You can't be real. You can't be my Edna."

A soft smile filled her face at the word "my." My hands didn't even resist anymore as she pulled them away from my ears and pressed them to her lips.

"It's me, Abby. It's really me," she promised.

I shook my head and yanked my hands away again. "No! You can't be my Edna! You just can't be! Because if you're my Edna, then I've just made the biggest mistake of my life!"

The world around me was spinning. I leaned against the wall for support. No, no. All this time. All this time I waited. Why now? Why now of all times?

"Abby, what's wrong? What is it?" She insisted, placing her hand gently on my shoulder.

I couldn't hold back anymore. The tears spilled over. I spun around and flung myself into her arms, sobbing miserably. 

"Oh, Eddy. It's terrible, just terrible," I sobbed into her bodice. "Our God must be cruel indeed to send you to me now! Eddy... I-I've just been married."

"What?" 

The shock and pain on her face only heightened the cruelty of the whole situation. I wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly, weeping miserably.

"Eddy, I waited. I swear, I waited. I waited for so long," I explained, pleading for her to understand. "I tried everything I could to stop it. Those three years you were gone, I held off Mother at every beratement. I turned my nose up at every suitor who came my way. I did everything I could to wait until the day you could return.

But they wouldn't let me wait any longer. The years came and went, and I was becoming more and more a spinster by the day. Mother wouldn't hear of it. The shame I would bring to the family by not marrying. I had already rejected Frederick on several occasions, but when Mother heard of his proposal this last time she gave me no options. She said I was either to marry him or find myself promptly on the streets.

I didn't know when you would return. I didn't even know if you would return. I-I didn't have a choice. Oh, Eddy, please forgive me."

She stared at me wordlessly. She didn't yell, didn't shove me away in anger. Although, I wished she would. Any abuse she gave me would have been better than the horrendous silence I was met with now.

"How long?" She asked finally.

I lowered my eyes to the floor in shame. "Nearly two weeks..."

"Two weeks..." she murmured more to herself than to me. "Two weeks... How strange. To see all I've seen, to suffer through all I've suffered, to struggle as I've struggled this past year. And now, to find I have lost the love of my life by a deadline of only two weeks... Yes. Yes, you are right, Abby. Our God is cruel indeed."

"Oh, Eddy, where have you been?" I sobbed.

"The asylum."

I froze. The asylum? What did she mean by "the asylum?" Surely, she couldn't be talking of that place with the lunatics, could she? Why would my sweet Edna be there of all places?

"That ship..." she explained as if reading my mind. "No other living human should ever have to witness what I witnessed on that ship. It made me unwell. So unwell that even the hospital could not help me. They sent me to that place, Abby. I didn't have a choice either.

I tried to get back to you. I really did. But the doctors refused time and time again to release me. For a year, I was trapped in that horrible place. At times, the thought of you was the only thing that kept me from losing my sanity entirely. 

And then, just last week, the doctors finally agreed to let me leave. For one brief moment, I had a glimmer of hope. A hope that I might see you again. That we could pick up right where we had left off. That we could finally be together."

"Oh, Eddy..."

"No, don't," she insisted, covering my mouth with her hand and forcing a smile to her face. "I am truly happy for you Abby. I am. I really am. 

I remember Fredrick. He's a good man. He will treat you well. 

Maybe everything is not as I dreamed it would be, but... you are safe, you are cared for, and your life will be comfortable with him. I swear to you, I could not ask for anything more than that. I am truly, truly happy for you."

I grabbed her hand, shaking my head wildly. "My marriage means nothing. He means nothing to me. You are what's important to me, Edna. 

Nothing about our plans has changed. I'll leave. I'll leave him tomorrow. We can set off for Paris like we always dreamed of."

"Abby-"

"Or we can forget about Paris entirely! We can go to Canada, or Maine, or down the street for all I care! The place doesn't matter, Eddy. As long as I have you, I don't care where we are."

"Maybe not, but your mother will," she reminded me gently.

I understood what she meant. This wasn't our first attempt to "run away" together. The last time we did so, we ran to Pennsylvania, hoping the distance would give us security. 

But it didn't. My mother traveled for three straight days to hunt me down and bring me home again. The entire journey back consisted of a long rave and rant about how she wouldn't allow me to disgrace her with my "sinful choices." 

Seeing Edna became very difficult after that. Which is why we hoped somewhere like Paris might be a safer place to hide. It was the only reason Edna left in the first place. To save up money so we could make the journey together. I would have gone too, but she was certain my Mother would find out our plans if I did so. This way that "sinful temptress" Edna would be away in another country and I could be the good girl, staying at home without suspicion. 

I understood her concerns that it all might happen again, but...

"Things are different now," I insisted. "Maybe this marriage was a blessing in disguise. Think about it. Her daughter running off with 'a friend' may be reckless, but easy enough to explain away.

But running off from my marriage? Inexcusable, no matter what the reason. She and Fredrick would both be shamed by it coming to light. Their only option would be to make some excuse about me being on holiday or such. And any attempts to fetch me would only bring suspicions and rumors.

Edna, we can leave. We can run away. We can finally be together and there isn't a single thing they can do about it. We can-"

She covered my mouth again, an immeasurable sadness in her eyes. And I already knew what was wrong. 

A marriage of convenience or not, the fact remained that I was still married. Fredrick would sooner face the shame of his wife running off than the shame of a divorce. My marriage would not end anytime soon. And that meant I could never truly belong to her.

As she lifted her hand and touched my cheek, a lump formed in my throat. 

It was her eyes. The same eyes she had when she last said goodbye to me four years ago. Only, this time, I feared her goodbye would be much, much longer than that.

She leaned in and placed her lips gently against mine. As she pulled away, I felt the reluctance in her touch as her fingers slid from my cheek.

"Goodbye, Abigail."

And with that, she left. I watched as she closed the door gently behind her. And even long after I knew that she was gone, I stayed there, watching the door. Waiting.

I waited as the afternoon faded to night and the room grew dark around me. I waited as Fredrick returned home and tried, in vain, to urge me to bed. I waited as my legs grew tired, as my eyes grew heavy, and my body grew weak. I waited. I waited because I knew she would be back again.

In the blackness of the night, I reached up and touched my locket. Inside was a picture of the two of us, the only picture we had together, and a small inscription.

Until I make my journey home. Wait for me.

So, I would. As long as it took. The days, the weeks, the months, the years. I would wait for her to return. I would wait until she made her journey home to me.