In the soft early morning light, Hester stirred. Seeing Arthur Dimmesdale sleeping peacefully next to her, she kissed his forehead and removed herself from the bed. The fire had decently grown, but she added more wood to it, and then dressed herself.

It was still early enough for her to return home without suspicion as the streets would be empty, and if she stayed, she would stay forever. Opening the door, the fresh snow was a foot or more high, but it was manageable to traverse the white ground in the bright sunlight, leaving behind only footprints. She would have to quickly remove her snow-covered garments once home, but she could make it there without issue.

"Sweet partings, I shall see thee anon," she whispered, as she knew he was asleep. Even leaving a letter of her departure could prove damning if the wrong eyes fell upon it, so she left without a sign.

She walked into the snow, smiling despite the cold, frigid air, as she had true love in her heart.

…

The next Sabbath, a morning later, good reverend Mr. Dimmesdale did not appear. In his place was elderly Rev. John Wilson, saying the younger minister had taken ill. The sermon went as expected, and no one was concerned, as everyone got sick once in a while and in winter, it was more often than not. There was nothing different from yesterday for everyone except Hester.

The sermon dragged on endlessly. She looked between Wilson and the door but remained in her pew with her posture straightened. She wished to seek her love and why he did not appear, but it was impossible to do covertly, so all she could do was wait and wait.

She waited until sundown, as it was dark and everyone was in their homes and unlikely to see her traipse down the street back to the church and his residence. It had taken all her concentration to work on her household chores after church until the timing was right. If she went any earlier, she could have drawn suspicious eyes or run into do-gooders stopping in to check on the reverend themselves. Above all now, she could not be seen interacting with him. When their meetings were innocent, she could have defended herself if anyone did suspect anything. Now that she was in love in a precarious situation, she had to be extra careful to protect both of them.

Hester threw on a cape and made her way to the small house attached to the church. Because of the days activity, most of the snow had been shovelled out of the way or flattened by walking. It was easier to return to him than it was to leave him.

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No answer came when she knocked. Still, she was compelled to enter.

Arthur Dimmesdale, pale as the moon, kneeled with his head on his legs in front of the cross, the back of his undershirt bloody from his scourge in front of him.

"Oh, Arthur," she said, running to his side and breaking his trance.

"Hester, our sins plague me. I offer my flesh unto penitence like priests did in the old faith of Rome. You must leave me be. I dragged thee into sin."

"So your promises were for naught?" she asked with no emotion.

He turned to her, his eyes red. He touched her dress. "Nay. My dear Hester, once thou left I realised the extent of my misdoings. I should not have lied with thee, but my heart is thine, and my promises were true." He looked up at her. "Thou left me."

"Only for thine own protection. What hereto wouldst happen if one of thy parishioners thus sought thee out in the morning and found me but in thy bed? I desired to stay all night and all day. Come hither," she said, and he stood. She kissed him softly on his lips.

"You are here, for always now," he said, tapping his heart.

"How long until I can petition Governor Bellingham to declare mine husband dead so that I am free to marry?" she asked.

"A year of no word, perhaps later. I do not know the law on this matter. Thee must not rush mourning. Thee needeth the time to mourn if he is dead, and enough time to confirm if he is not, lest thee become a bigamist."

"In a year, thy will forget me," Hester said.

"I could never, I will never. I promise I will not abandon ye. Thou art my wife in my heart! I could not seek another. I cannot lie with ye again, but I feel heaven's light being in thine presence. I feel it now. Can I see thou and not give into temptation? Nay. Yet can I not see thee and live?" he murmured more to himself.

She did not think she knew more than he knew about God, but she knew in His infinite mercy. They had made the promises in front of each other, but not in church before witnesses, and not with a clear marital state on her side. She felt sure her husband must be dead.

They should not have made haste in their physical act, but she only worried of the townspeople’s judgement. She was not worried she had offended God because her heart was pure on the matter. She had not loved before and would not love again. The memory of him holding her in the gentle night had filled her with comfort and hope. It felt wrong to call that a sin.

“Perhaps, it is not wise for me to sew while thou practise thy sermons any longer,” Hester said. “I do not wish to call into question thy conscience or tempt thee into something you deem sinful. Thou wilt be my love, my Arthur, no matter if in a year thou has lost thy desire for me. I shall not lose mine for thee. Yet I do not think I can visit thee in thy private quarters while this vexes thee so. Good day, my beloved.”

“Hester, please,” he said, touching his heart again.

“Do not,” she said and left.