The last time Benny really talked to Mark, it was a month before Christmas, before Roger came back from Santa Fe. He'd almost forgotten how much he missed being in the loft, and sitting there with Mark he could almost believe it was a couple years ago, before everything had fallen apart.
"Alison's making me leave. Find another place to put the studio."
"Oh," Mark answered distantly. "So I guess you won't be around here as often?"
"No." Benny raised an eyebrow at him, unable to get Mark to meet his eyes. "Isn't that what you wanted?"
Mark didn't answer.
The last time he saw Maureen was two weeks before that, and he didn't get to talk to her. She hadn't given him the chance. He'd spotted her down the street and started to walk to her, meaning to... what? Say something to her, surely. Maybe apologize? It didn't matter what, because the moment she saw him, she turned the other way, started walking away as fast as she could. He slowed, stopped, and watched her walk away. Perhaps for the best. Every conversation they'd had since he left only ended in her all but screaming at him.
The last time he spoke to Alison, he can't really remember – little conversations, unimportant things, yes, but really talked to her... The last time he saw her, though – that, he remembers. She was still asleep, platinum blond hair spread on her pillow, perfect and composed even asleep. He watched her for a moment, silent, then laid his wedding band on the nightstand, on top of a neatly folded letter – crisp, clean, like everything in Alison's life. No fuzzy edges, no blurred lines...
She'd find the letter when she woke up, and the ring. Benny turned and walked out.
So that's all safely behind him now. There are no more uncertain silences, no ex-lovers avoiding him at all costs, and certainly the crispness and clarity of his life is gone, it's all reverted back to the blurred, chaotic mess it once was. Minus the two stabilizing forces there once were. Nevertheless, he almost thinks he wants those to be the last times. There's too much pain, too much doubt, too much hurt, too much memory and too much of it his fault. He almost thinks he could wipe it all away, start over new. Blank slate.