Burnt in The Memory of The Rain

Sensitive Themes - Slight Abuse, Discrimination, Religion

I used to love being out in the rain. The rhythmic sounds carried by nature, the world settling into peace, and the feeling as if nothing else mattered.

Every night, when the world fell into this spell, I would go into the forests. The darkness, combined with the rain, made it so no one would follow me, which was exactly our plan. Adelia was special to me. She put color into my dull days. Even when we had to be a secret to our husbands, I always waited for her in the familiar bend of trees, just off the trail in the forest.

“You remind me of this book I’m reading,” Adelia said, the rain misting over us as we sat against a tree trunk. We sat beneath the towering trees, their branches sheltering us from the worst of the storm. Droplets clung to our skin like secrets, and the air felt weightless like time.

“How so?” I replied, my voice low as I turned to look at her. She had been lying on her back, her hair curled around her face. Her husband always pestered her about her reading habits, saying it distracted her from her duties.

“The way the author describes his wife,” She paused, turning onto her side to look back at me and leaning on her elbow on the bare ground, “the way she makes his mind calm, how she feels like a dream, and how they both were meant to be.” Her smile was gentle and filled with promise, but only for a fleeting moment. “I wish I could proclaim us the way he does with her.” A promise lost in the rain. It was understood by us that even the thought of that would be shot down and burned alive, no matter how much either of us wished for it.

Our nights often ended this way, tears mixing in with the rain streaming down our faces as the weight of the world settled on our shoulders, reminding us that society would deem us vile.

When the stars began to fade, and the night surrendered to dawn, guilt and shame would creep back in. But despite everything, we always found our way back to the same bend of trees on rainy nights, where the smell of leaves mingled with the warmth of Adelia’s laughter. Those moments beneath the sheltering branches felt like stolen treasures—her hand brushing against mine as we shared dreams of escape, each promise binding us closer.

As we emerged from the forest trail, the weight of rain-soaked clothes clung to our skin, mingling with a deep sense of unease. There, silhouetted against the dawn light, stood my husband, Phineas, and Adelia’s husband, Mr. Tobias, looming outside our door. The hill's curve elevated them, making it seem as though they towered over us, their presence shocking as they stood there.

Together.

Waiting for us.

“Theodosia!” Phineas sharply called out to me, I exited the trail of the forest, still drenched with rainwater and longing. The air suddenly went still and alarm filled the space between everyone. The rain had stopped. I kept my pace and presence, knowing that if I slipped up, they would know something they weren’t meant to know.

“Yes, dear?” I called back, “I’m sorry for worrying you at this early hour, Adelia and I were–”

“We know enough,” His voice thundered. Even from afar, I could feel his temper growing. His stance stood tall, his arms crossed, and his lips pursed in disappointment. Mr. Tobias was the same, he never once looked us in the eyes and his own narrowed. It was hard to take a breath in, the men could mean anything by that statement. In desperation, I put my hand on her back and tried to defend our late-night to early-morning venture.

But then I noticed Adelia’s face go pale, her husband holding up one of her books. Confusion twisted in my gut. Adelia's expression shifted to a mix of dread and sheepishness. She tugged my arm and I looked at her teary eyes.

“Thea, I swear to you, no one was to find it,” She rambled to me, trembling over her words. He threw the book to the side of the yard, letting the soaked ground tumble against it. The book flared open and its contents are spilled out.

…a bond between women that must remain hidden and unsaid…

Theodosia, I see a future that the world will not permit…

…yours, in all the ways this world cannot allow.

She didn’t need to say what was done, nor did she want to say what she had done. She had written about me. And our husbands knew. A sudden metallic taste flooded my mouth, but I swallowed it down, trying to focus on a single thought, desperate to figure out what to do next. Alas, my mind continued to spiral and race.

With her hand still on my arm, I turned my back to the men, instinctively shielding Adelia. I could feel Phineas’s frustration simmering, the rising sun was behind him.

“Girls,” Phineas announced, “I think it is time to go inside your homes, with your husbands.”

Adelia and I looked at each other, leaving everyone else in the world out. I couldn’t tell what she was wondering in her head, quite frankly, I had no idea what was in my own mind. This is the moment we never discussed, the moment we never wanted, the moment that was never supposed to happen.

Mr. Tobias cleared his throat, making us both whisk our heads upward. They had grown weary and tired of waiting as dawn was finally set. In the end, we had no choice. We had to go into our homes. With our husbands.

The moments that followed were harsh and grim. When Phineas finally ushered me into our home, leaving behind my Adelia and Mr. Tobias, he snapped.

“Do you understand what you have done!” He roared, gripping my arm harshly, making my breath hitch. “Do you not have any shame? You have–” He stops and suddenly lets go of my arm, shoving me like some inconvenience. My clothes had still been drenched and muddy from the forest, I wished I had stayed there.

“Phineas, please,” I pleaded, stepping closer, “you don’t understand what– how this is. It’s–” But with a wave of his hand, he silenced me. Phineas was done with this. It had always been like that, if it wasn’t something he liked, it was put to a halt. His jaw clenched and he stood up taller, trying to figure out what to say. Silence filled the room, it was suffocating, but only for a moment.

“You are never to see that woman. Ever. I do not know how she… corrupted you, but it will stop now– just… goodness, clean yourself up. This charade never happened, we will never speak or think of it again.” His voice was icy and demanding.

All I could do in that situation was comply, I stared down at the floor of our home and carefully walked to our bedroom, letting the silence consume me until I closed our door. I gripped the edge of our bed, steadying myself, letting myself curl inward as my heart sank. Everything had collapsed, the world went dark, and the water-soaked clothes set flame against my skin. My knees crashed onto the ground and my head followed through, making the floorboards creak. My breathing became rapid and the world wouldn’t stop, even for just a second. My wet hair clung to my neck, causing the rainwater to go down my back, burning me as it fell. Every thought in my head rushed right back to Adelia. I wondered what was going to happen to her, what her mind was doing. The shame clawed at me, growing inside of me, but the thought of letting Adelia go, her warmth and laughter slipping away from my life—was unthinkable. But it wasn’t, nor had it ever been, my choice.

Whenever I ventured out, Phineas would always be with me. A shadow I could never escape. He directed my paths and controlled my conversations with any passerby. It didn’t matter to me, my thoughts pounded and flew in my head.

Does she still have her books? What has Mr. Tobias done since that night? Is she alright? Why did this have to happen? Does she think of me, with the same unbearable longing?

The only time I ever saw her was during Sunday services, and even then, it was from across the room, separated by the heavy weight of our husbands’ gazes. Everything we couldn’t say out loud was shared through teary-eyed stares and slight smiles. It was heartbreaking. She was merely across the room, and yet it felt insurmountable.

I waited for our rainy nights the way I now awaited for our Sundays. The nights that offered us sanctuary and freedom. Where we slipped into the darkness that shielded us from unforgiving eyes and where the rain muffled our whispered confessions. Except now, all the darkness and rain had to offer were echoes of our once-promised escape. It carried emptiness and the weight of everything lost. I depended on Sundays, gasping for air from our suffocating, separated realities.

There had already been gossip about our two families—whispers, mutters, prayers. Even when the rumors settled, I still felt the stares from mortified mothers, clutching their children, and disgusted men, shaking their heads. This predicament didn’t only affect me, but also Phineas. Although the rumors didn't seem to touch him like the way they did me, appearance was what mattered to him. Walking throughout town, he’d hold his head up high trying to salvage our– his reputation. But I was the flaw in his impeccable life. With every stare I received from our neighbors or onlookers, I could feel his resentment cut through the air.

The thought of Adelia, of seeing her even in passing, kept me going. It was fragile comfort, but I was willing to accept it nonetheless. As much as I longed for her, the rain— our rain— only deepened the impact of everything. Every shared moment we had had unfolded under those pitiful skies. The rain now stung and burnt my skin, biting me and reminding me of everything that couldn’t happen.

Amid the downpour, all I wanted was Adelia’s warmth, laughter, her very presence. It was a cruel twist of fate, the way the world kept us at arm's length. No matter how much we yearned and no matter how brightly our love burned, we would never be allowed to flourish in the light.