If I had known this day would be my last in Paradise, would I have done anything any differently?

Maybe. It seems likely. But upon this sad eve, I can already look back and see that there were signs of what was to come. I suppose that some were warnings to me, and perhaps to Eve too – I was just foolish enough to ignore them, feeling hopelessly secure in the paradise Our Father created for us, living our sheltered and happy life.

And now we sit here – I, trying to write while trembling with fear, and Eve sitting quietly, her mind elsewhere. Though she is with me, for the first time since her creation, I feel alone.

I awoke this morning after having yet another terrible dream about fallen angels with blackened teeth and rotting eyes, their wings torn and singed as they screamed in a high-pitched voice that pierced my soul as I slumbered. Such an unheard of vision – I was certain my mind could not have created such a thing. It seemed that ever since God informed us of what dangers could await us here, even in our idyllic dream world, I had been having these strange visions as I slept. Eve, of course, slept sweetly and soundly, and made no mention of any dreams. I kept the silence – I was most certain I could not express the terror these dreams inspired, and she would laugh at me, and call me silly, as she is oft prone to do.

The day was softly scented with jasmine – a scent I shall always take to remember as the scent of Heaven, despite the fact that every day dawned with a different mixture of scents coming from various blooms. But today, on the last day, the jasmine flowers were the queens of the garden, filling every nook with their sweet smell. The skies were waking, too, a yellow dawn touching their horizons – it was so calm, so still, so peaceful.

Eve and I awoke quickly, and were soon ready to get on with the days’ tasks. Our labours more often than not involved helping various plants around the garden grow – winding woodbine around arbour, or directing the ivy in particular directions so that it might please God to see it. Nothing seemed unusual then, until Eve began to pose the idea that we should divide the day’s labours, and take of them separately.

Needless to say I was wary – God had warned us of our enemy, a fallen angel ready to do anything to destroy God and His creations. I told this to Eve, communicating the danger I felt was near. Though the idea that we might be able to do the jobs more devotedly were we to be apart was brilliant, I knew caution should be taken. I wanted more than anything to guard her, and stay by her side lest anything foul try and corrupt her – but Eve, my dearest wife, has such a free spirit, and I saw that hers yearned to please God, and if it were to be apart from me, then so be it.

After she had persuaded me gently enough, with honeyed words and doe-like eyes, she took leave from me, singing a beautiful tune that I now cannot get out of my mind, and left me to attend to the weeping bluebells alone.

My dread increased the longer she was gone from me. From the moment God had presented Eve before me, we had been together always, never leaving each other’s side or shown any will to be apart. Should I perhaps have known, then, that something was amiss? I occupied my time by wreathing for her a resplendent wreath of beautiful flowers, all her favourite kinds, weaving my worry in with them, sealing them with the care only a husband can offer his wife.

She returned to me eventually – far longer than I had expected her to be gone – and there was a glint, a new sparkle in her beautiful eyes. Never before had I seen such an expression on my beloved wife’s face, and I feared intensely as she drew closer. Had this enemy perhaps taken my wife’s body?

Her mouth opened, and words flowed out. But they were not words I knew. Her voice, the way she moved… everything was changed, and I knew at that moment that the terrible thing I had feared this very morning had come to pass – even though at that time I was unsure of what it was. My gaze dropped to her hand – she was carrying the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge.

In numbness and disbelief I said nothing – though I was no longer hearing the words this Eve was saying, she continued to talk, her words falling like the rain from the sky on to dry, un-nurturing land… I could not understand why she had done such a thing. After she had finished speaking, and watched me with her new sparkling eyes, I spoke – how could she do this? Had God not provided for us entirely? Would he forbid us to eat that Tree’s fruit unless He had reason?

Though I spoke vehemently, I doubt she heard me at all. Her face was cast over with every kind of delight – she seemed to care for nothing but the fruit, and I, her husband in this Paradise, was forsaken.

I knew that what Eve had done was wrong. I also knew that when God saw her, he would know, too, and do what he had always threatened – cast her out from Eden forever. He would probably create another Woman for me, and expect things to carry on as they were… or perhaps all of Womankind was deceitful, and thus God would only let Man remain in Paradise. I was unsure of every possibility… except that Eve would be thrown from our home.

Looking at her, the wife I had come to know and love so well, I knew I could not leave her. Though this Garden was indeed the loveliest of all gardens, and had always been my home – I knew I could not enjoy it for a single moment if Eve were not by my side as always, enjoying it with me. If she could forsake all she had been offered for a bite of this fruit, then I could too.

I explained this all to her; upon doing so she wept and embraced me tightly, then handed me the cursed fruit. Without waiting to think about the consequences, I took a bite – and behold, I knew everything.

All too soon I knew the mysteries of what knowledge was, and I soon learnt what it was that seemed so different about Eve – her heavy-lidded eyes were dewy with lust, as mine readily became for her, and soon after tasting the wretched fruit we sank into sinful embraces, knowing that this was what God had tried to hide. After this, we were ashamed of our nakedness. I had never really paid much attention to mine, nor the fact that it was always exposed – but now I saw, and was filled with shame. Eve and I gathered fig leaves from the vines and sewed them together to hide it from God.

And now we are waiting here, among the climbing ivy and the sinfully sweet scent of the jasmine flower, for Our Father. He will come to us, and He will punish us, for we did the single thing He asked us not to. We do not deserve to live here any longer. Eve sits next to me now with a small, yet contented smile, as though she is happy with the outcome of these events. I do not understand how this can be.

We have forsaken happiness to indulge in a Woman’s curiosity, and I no longer care for her. My body burns for her, and yet she repulses me. I warned, and near begged for her to remain by my side, but she betrayed her husband as well as the Lord, and it is Eve’s fallibility that has torn me from Paradise. And now I know that I was right – the enemy did take my wife from me. The woman who sits next to me now is not my wife, but a traitor of my love.

I do not know this woman.