A short stand alone for you. It's born out of my loathing of Lucky, as well as my recent thought- hey how sad- he used to be so great. But mostly I make Liz say everything I want to shout at him as I throw sharp objects his way. So yeah, she would never be this mean, but oh. my. god. was it fun to write.
I hope it's as fun to read. )
The Breakup"It's over." The words were out before she could stop them.
Lucky looked up, his spoon hovering in the air in front of his mouth. "What?"
"It's over." She repeated, the statement, though shocking, felt so right. It bubbled out of her mouth as something joyful, even in its finality.
"Elizabeth." Lucky's tone was the opposite, leaden. "You don't know what you're saying."
She stared at him. "I'm saying I don't want to be with you anymore; or ever again. I'm saying that I expect you to move out and sign divorce papers and date other people." Now her voice was hard.
"Like you?" He sneered at her.
"Fuck you Lucky. I never cheated on you. Frankly I don't know why you seem surprised, and I certainly don't expect you to fight me on this. God knows you've picked apart my every move for months." Her tone escalated. "Sat around thinking of all the ways I 'done you wrong.' You had your little cop friends trail me, you embarrassed me in front of my co-workers. You talk to me as if I'm a small child, both in public and in private. If I ask you how you're doing, I'm hovering obnoxiously, If I leave you alone I'm a cold hearted treacherous bitch. I would think you would be thrilled I'm letting you off the hook. Now you can be legitimately martyred and wounded."
"I…" Lucky stuttered, "Those are horrible things to say. I'm going through something. You could have been supportive."
She pushed away from the table, her chair emitting a rending shriek of protest as it scraped against the cheap linoleum floor.
"Supportive? Supportive? When?" She paced back and forth around the tiny living room. "When I sacrificed every spare moment I had to work, even at the enormous, infinite cost of spending time with my son? So I can support us, because you keep quitting you job in fits of pique? When, instead you being grateful for that, you make me feel like I'm emasculating you? Or how about when I carried a child to pay your medical bills? Well- I definitely emasculated you then, huh? Maybe I should have been supportive when, instead of coming to me and asking, you assumed I was having a tawdry affair. How about when I was held at knifepoint? I guess I should have kept all my needs and fears and wishes for some comfort and TLC to myself, and lavished attention on you… oh wait, I did. Tell me Lucky- you tell me how I should have done more to support you? Huh?
"Elizabeth, that's not how it was. You know that. Just because you feel like that doesn't make it true."
"Yes, patronize me. That will help. And FYI, even if what I was saying isn't the black and white truth, only how I feel, that's all that matters."
Lucky stood, leaning against his cane. "Okay, maybe I haven't been the best husband lately, but I'm trying, I'm doing my best."
"God save me." She snapped.
"You know I love you." He reached out and stroked her face. "I love you."
Abruptly the anger died, and she looked at his face. She had loved him so long. Her eyes stung as she whispered. "What happened Lucky?"
He sighed, pulling her into his arms. "Things have been bad. Just… the world has been against us, but we'll get-"
She interrupted, "No." Against his chest, "I meant, what happened to you?"
He pushed her away, his eyes hot on her face. "What do you mean by that?"
"You used to be so…" She struggled to find the right word, "…exultant… or, I don't know, but it was so wonderful." Her voice cracked. "Even when you were sad, or when I was completely broken- you were… like you were meant to be happy."
"I'm happy." He brushed her off.
"No, you've changed. I don't see anything of what you were now."
"I grew up Elizabeth."
"You don't even see it. But it's a tragedy. It makes me ache that the person who taught me how much easier it is to be joyful, can't even see how sad he's become."
"That is such crap." He yelled. "Don't try and justify what you're doing by making shit up. I don't want to hear it."
"Fine, then maybe you'll hear this. I don't love you anymore. You died, and Helena's finally won. I'm giving up for good." She turned and walked to the door, then faced him, still standing in the kitchen, his face grim and cold, his eyes, to her cynical gaze, petulant. "And the funny thing is, I don't even care. Don't be here when I get back."
She closed the door behind her, flinching when something slammed against it.
Getting into her car, she put down all the windows and turned the music high. And she drove fast.
She was there before she knew it. She took a deep breath and knocked. His face was surprised when he saw her.
"Hi, can I come in?'
The End(Yes, of course it's Jason, hello!)