"I just don't know if I want this, Jane," Maura murmurs.
"I used to think I couldn't live without you, but now -"
"But now what? What's different, what changed?" Jane says, pleading. Eyes wide. Frantic. Desperate.
"You." Maura states simply; bluntly, looking at Jane look at her…
She abruptly averts Jane's gaze, attempting to make this easier. Trying to summon both the courage to bow out of their 3 year marriage and the grace to somehow achieve it without totally decimating Jane's heart.
"You've changed."
Maura gives in momentarily, glancing at Jane from the corner of her eye. She instantly regrets this decision, and yet it somehow grounds her - seeing that she has Jane's undivided attention for a change; it gives her the momentum to continue.
"You used to willingly give me your hand, but now I have to reach for it. You used to charm me with your humor, instead of making me the object of its stinging amusement. You used to make me feel like I was the most important person in your world, but now I'm not even certain that I'm in your world at all; It is as if you only see me from your periphery, while everyone and everything else is in your direct line of sight. And I'm flailing. I'm drowning, and you can't even care to notice it. And I'm just…I'm tired, Jane. I don't want this. I don't want to do this anymore."
"I'm so sorry." Jane says knowing how empty it must sound. But she means it. She really does feel like the sorriest, stupidest fool known to man. How could she have neglected the love of her life so severely and not even realize it?
"And if it were up to me," Jane pauses. She looks down at her scarred hands finding it oddly sobering. She takes a deep breath, slowly exhales trying to gather herself. Wanting to not screw this up, just this once.
"If I could, I would undo every stupid thing I did or said, and right every wrong, and make sure that you always felt loved, and wanted, and needed, because I do need you, Maura. Okay? If you can just find something worth holding on to, something in 3 years of marriage, and 7 years of friendship worth saving…" Jane looks back up at Maura with those pleading eyes again, wishing she could will Maura to look at her by mere thought. Wishing they were still that connected.
"If you could somehow forgive me, I promise I won't fuck it up again." Jane chances the risk of Maura flinching at the epithet for the hope that its emphasis, and her sincerity will be felt. "I promise, I -"
"It's not up to you."
Maura's eyes finally reach Jane's. They are haunted and worn out. Detached. As if she finally is giving up. As if she has been burdened with bereavement for far too long, up until this very moment, when suddenly all of her longing and lamenting was quashed by Jane's all too trite apology.
Jane starts to reply, confusion momentarily blind-sighting her, "Wha-what do you mea-"
"It was up to you. Before. Making me feel wanted. Loved. Included. But that's the problem. I should have never looked to you for that," Maura stands now, staring at the floor, only partly wishing it would swallow her whole. "And so I won't now."
She's moving toward the door, when she feels it. The slight tug of Jane's hand on her forearm, and subsequently her heartstrings. Then she hears it…
"Maura."
It's always gotten to her. The way she says her name. Like it's everything. A full statement. A paragraph. Or a sonnet of sorts, but ever urgent still. She's always loved it…
And it dawns on her that she'll miss it…
And then she'll move on. Like she always has.
She doesn't reply. She doesn't turn to look at Jane. She just barely misses the ghost of her grasp, until she is completely out of the door, and out of her reach.