Chapter 9: The Governor’s Choice

The broken porcelain had cut Madison’s skin. She clutched her wrist and stared wide-eyed:

For a moment, she looked less like a beauty queen and more like a wounded child—vulnerable, angry, and scared.

“Andy, you…”

Her voice trembled, disbelief and betrayal tangled together.

Disbelief quickly turned into overwhelming anger. She pointed at my mother, “You actually raised your hand against me for this nobody? What, just because she has a face men like?”

Her words were laced with venom, thrown like darts in a crowded room.

Madison was furious. She rushed up to tear at my mother’s face.

Her movements were wild, uncoordinated, as if she’d lost all control.

Andrew strode forward and grabbed Madison’s wrist.

He pulled her back with a single, practiced motion. His grip was gentle, but firm—there was no mistaking his authority.

“How much longer are you going to make a scene?” he scolded in a low voice. “If I don’t stop you, you’ll end up causing a disaster!”

His voice was sharp, every word heavy with warning. The room seemed to shrink in on itself, every eye fixed on the governor.

They argued fiercely.

Their voices rose and fell, echoing through the small shop, each word sharper than the last.

In the end, Andrew was so angry his face turned pale, and he blurted out:

His voice cracked, raw and unguarded—a slip of the mask he always wore in public.

“All the women in Savannah together aren’t half as jealous as you!”

The words hung in the air, a slap heard by all.

Madison was stunned.

For a heartbeat, she just stared, lips parted in shock.

Her eyes immediately turned red, and big tears fell.

Her mascara ran in twin rivers down her cheeks. The women behind her murmured, unsure whether to comfort or cower.

“Yes, no woman in the world is as jealous as I am.”

Her voice was brittle, each word laced with pain.

Madison laughed bitterly.

The sound was sharp, more sob than laugh, rattling in her chest.

“But besides me, who else would carry your wounded body step by step out of the storm, who would give up everything for you, who would rather die than let you come to harm?”

She hurled the words at him, daring him to say she hadn’t bled for his sake.

“Now it seems, I should have died back then. At least you would have remembered me forever, better than now, suffering for a tramp!”

Her voice broke, her anger collapsing into sorrow. She glared at my mother with a hatred born of heartbreak.

Madison glared fiercely at my mother, then took off the locket from her neck, threw it to the ground, and ran out.

The locket bounced once, coming to rest near my shoe. The sound of her footsteps faded quickly down the hall.

The maids and older women all froze in fear.

No one dared to move. Even the bravest looked to Andrew for direction.

One of the bolder ones picked up the locket and held it up:

Her hands shook as she spoke. “Governor, Miss Madison grew up tough, not as well-mannered as the women here, but she truly loves you.”

“If a woman’s heart breaks, it’s hard to mend.”

Her words were soft, almost pleading, echoing the sentiments of every Southern matron in town.

“Yes, Governor, please go after Miss Madison. She doesn’t know anyone here—if she runs around and something happens…”

The implication hung heavy in the air. No one wanted to see a scandal splashed across the morning news.

Andrew picked up the locket.

He turned it over in his hand, the gold catching the light. For a moment, his shoulders slumped.

He looked back at my mother.

Her head was bowed, hair falling like a curtain to hide her face. She was still kneeling, silent and unmoving.

My mother was kneeling on the ground, head lowered. From Andrew’s angle, he could only see her pale neck.

She seemed smaller than before, her strength tucked away like a secret.

She clearly felt Andrew looking at her, but didn’t raise her head.

She remained silent, refusing to meet his gaze—her pride a shield no one could breach.

Andrew closed his eyes.

He let out a long, slow breath, the kind that comes before a hard decision.

In the end, he still took the locket and went after Madison.

He didn’t look back. The sound of his footsteps faded into the night, leaving only the echo of what might have been.

The silence in the shop pressed in on us, heavy as the night. I wondered if we’d just made an enemy who would never forgive—or if we’d finally caught the governor’s eye for real.