Once they had talked about it, one time in three years of knowing each other, three years of loving each other she asked.
"Have you ever thought about it."
The answer was a quick and emphatic no, said so loudly it started them both. Alex never asked her again. What would she think of her now, gun sitting on the table one round in the chamber taunting her, begging her to pick it up and pull the trigger. She shot up from the couch and looked at her side arm like it was the monster under her bed from childhood, terror in her eyes and a pain unlike anything she had ever known in her heart.
The words resonated in her head, over and over again. She couldn't shake them no matter how hard she tried, every time she turned around there they were.
"I'm sorry. We did everything we could." The messaged played on repeat in her mind but the reality was still evading her. We did everything we could. We did everything we could. We did everything we could. Over and over, and over, pounding like a snare drum in her head.
A vase crashed against the wall in a resounding boom, it didn't even register that she had been the one throwing it as it rained over the wood floors. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest and her breath becoming more chaotic, the room spun and she hit the floor in a flood of tears and a primal scream. Her eyes darted back to the loaded pistol on the table, then to the shattered glass on the floor.
What good was an oath to protect and serve when she couldn't save the one thing that ever meant anything to her, the only thing in her life worth protecting? Her hand shook as she reached out for the weapon, her finger tips just grazed the metal, felt the cool steal, when her hand recoiled as if it were on fire. All the lines were blurred, this morning her world was solid and now she was adrift in a world that had lost its meaning.
She shook with grief, her body wracked by a flood of tears and a pain that hadn't stopped since the moment the earth shifted out from under her feet. Bringing her knees to her chest she fought to catch her breath, she felt the room spinning and worried she may pass out if she couldn't pull it together. As quickly as she calmed herself another wave hit and she felt her stomach turn. Sprinting to the bathroom, there was no fighting it, she was literally sick with her grief.
The sickness subsided and she found herself sitting on the bathroom floor, the white room echoed with her cries, and there is was laying on the floor where she left it. It wasn't like her to just leave things lying about, and it hit her that she must have had the intention of coming back and picking it up later. That was twelve hours ago when later was a given, before the course of their future and the end of their story had been written. She picked up the satin gown and held it to her cheek, the material was soft on her skin and still held her scent. Curled up in a ball on the floor of her bathroom she lay with the light pink fabric desperately hoping that it was all a bad dream.
It was ten a.m. when she woke to the sound of the phone ringing in the next room. She was groggy and sore from her night spent on the cool tile floor. Standing pained her as she made her way to the living room. Seeing the condition of the room it hit her again it wasn't a dream, she felt her stomach contract and her eyes grow hot with tears.
"Benson." She managed as her eyes once again met the gun.
"Olivia, its me."
The voice was familiar, but her brain couldn't connect. Confusion set in followed by anger, was this some sort of sick joke or had she just finally lost it.
"Olivia, its me. I can't say who this is, but you know. Don't say my name, I'm not even supposed to be making this call."
"Wha…you…how…"
"Meet me, our spot, twenty minutes."
"I just…I've lost it."
"Liv, it's me, I know you're confused. It's me."
"How do I know, how is this possible, I was there…the, the blood, there was so much…"
The receiver clicked and the phone went silent.