She wasn't sure what it was that caused her to turn around. But when she briefly looked back, expecting to find Oliver but instead finding empty space, it didn't take her long to discern where he might be.
It was that discernment that occupied most of Shane's thought process as she made her way towards the hospital entrance, careful to grab a courtesy umbrella on her way out. She wasn't sure why her feet were taking her there, except that the thought Oliver could be outside at the mailbox she'd peripherally noted at the entrance earlier in the day suddenly weighed heavily on her heart.
Shane hadn't been quite prepared, though, for the weight of the reality she witnessed in front of her. She stepped out of the first set of sliding doors and immediately spotted Oliver's frame at the mailbox as she suspected. It wasn't clear what he was doing, but she could tell that whatever it was, it was a struggle. A torrential downpour rained down on him, and yet it was as if Oliver was completely unaffected by it. Suddenly he shifted his weight to one side, as if he might have made a decision about something. Shane stepped across the threshold of the second set of sliding doors, deploying the umbrella as she did, her actions completely unnoticed by Oliver, in some deep trance that allowed him to silence the surrounding environment.
It was inexplicable what this moment of watching Oliver was stirring inside of Shane. Her heart simutaneously raced, ached and seemingly crying out to his, though not a single word escaped her lips. Her mind was still processing the encounter that transgressed between them not an hour before, unsure why it was that she poured her heart out over the letter he'd written, revealed her increasing regret over being the catalyst for the moment unfolding before her, or wondering what it was Oliver was truly afraid of. Above all she couldn't understand why she had tortured herself more by revealing what she thought the contents of his letter to Holly held, whether of deeply felt need for her return or a decision to say goodbye, knowing full well that he'd conceal the truth as if his life depended on it. He had remained silent, but his eyes seemed to indicate that he was terrified either way.
Shane profoundly struggled with the question of why. Why did it all matter so much? Was she even ready to know the truth or assume its consequences?
It was only then that she heard the distinct creek of the letter shoot snapping shut. He took a deep breath. And, as if he could feel someone watching him, Oliver turned around. He didn't seemed surprised to see Shane standing there, and Shane herself was paralyzed, not moving a muscle.
It was in that moment he held her gaze that the conversation started, the one that found her eyes briefly drifting to his feet and back again, her face softening as if to say, "This is my fault. I'm sorry." The moment held so much gravity that even Shane began to feel the weight.
The exhaustion that continued to overtake him seemed to prevent Oliver's gaze from holding any more than an overwhelmed vacancy. He looked like a little boy standing there, soaked to the bone. He looked lost. And there was nothing Shane could do. His heart was still a mystery to her, and with all the pushing and pulling that had seemingly taken place between them over the course of their brief six months together, it was unclear where they stood in this moment. Had she not been so consumed by this experience she was sharing with Oliver, she might have admitted to herself that it was this particular state of unknowing that unceasingly nagged at her, and would continue to do so.
That admission would not take root, however, because she was in this moment with Oliver, in a state of not knowing what the future held, or the consequences of this irreversible move Oliver had made.