It had taken her over two years, not to get her life, any life back, but to get any kind of control over it. She had fought too much, she had lost herself, and now she was only tired. She wanted to just exist, go through the motions, the routine. It doesn't matter how much she had wanted it back then, now it wasn't the time, it was too late. She didn't want to live. She wanted to exist. But his mere presence there threatened her frail equilibrium. He had shattered her, broken her too many times to count. One more time, and she would be lost forever, gone. Dead.
She couldn't handle it any longer- couldn't handle him any longer.
He had left her that day without a word, without an explanation. Not a goodbye, not a caress, a hug… the kiss she had dreamt about longer than she cared to admit. She had tried to look for him, at the start, but when she didn't found him, she knew the truth: he didn't want to get found. Not even by her.
At least, at first she had the nightmare to remember her she was human, she was still alive. Now she didn't have them any longer- just a glass of alcohol and two sleeping pills, and no dreams. No dreams of her. Of him. Of the children she had wanted in her life- and those ones were probably worse than the most terrible nightmare she could have had. (Did she really tell Greg she was in a happy place? Was she really that stupid, infatuated by his look and his words, so easily manipulated?)
"Teresa…" he whispered her name- her given name- and she didn't know if cry or laugh. She could count on one hand the number of times he had called her Teresa in over ten years. And her had always done so for a reason and a reason alone: manipulating her.
She may be stupid, but not that much. And if he thought she was going to fall for this one as well…
She shook her head, laughing a little, of herself, of how he had dared to show up after so long at her doorstep, and she didn't need to tell him it was too late. (He saw it in her face).
And yet, when she closed the door leaving him behind it, Jane still sat on the stairs, hoping that the pouring rain will erase his sins- and convince him to forgive him one last time.
Because this time, it would be different.
