Reflection

In some ways, Goodwin had saved her.

Not in the typical sense; he'd never pulled her from a burning wreckage or out of the path of a bullet. Yet she couldn't deny that she didn't think she would have made it if it wasn't for him.

She wasn't even sure if she'd ever loved him. He wasn't her soul mate. She knew she'd be fine with leaving him behind when she left the island. She never once imagined their future together, because she knew it wouldn't happen. She knew they wouldn't marry, grow old together, die together. And it didn't bother her.

He had all appearances of simply being a friend with benefits. And he was her friend. Yet he was so much more than that. When she was alone, he was there. When she missed her sister, when she longed to hear her voice, he was there. When women began dying, one after the other, he was there. When it became clear that months would turn into years and she would still be on the island, he was there. He made it bearable.

She wasn't with him the morning of the crash. She wasn't sure where he was. She had other things on her mind that morning. She was coming to terms with the fact that Ben had lied to her, and that her sister was most likely dead. And then there was the fact that Ben had cancer.

This one fact caused mixed emotions in Juliet. No one was supposed to get cancer here; they were supposed to be able to cure it. She felt a slight degree of pity for him. She regretted that she was the one who'd had to deliver this death sentence. Once again, she was the angel of death. She wondered if she'd ever think of herself as the bringer of life again.

She mourned her sister. She hated her naivety, three years ago, that had led her to this place. She should have stayed. But she hadn't, and now she'd never see her beautiful sister, her only family, again.

That morning, she'd wanted to be alone. Goodwin complied.

Then the plane crashed, and before she even had time to say goodbye, Ben had sent Goodwin on a mission. She'd had a feeling of foreboding at the unexpected departure. At the time she'd considered it normal; it wasn't every day a plane crashed in their midst. Later, as she lay alone with her thoughts, she realised some part of her had known he wasn't coming back to her.

She hadn't dwelled on the thought for long. Ben was leading her on a trek before she had time to think. And then, reaffirming her faith in miracles, she saw her sister. She was alive.

With that gift, that bribe from Ben, she returned to her work. Whenever the futility of what she was doing seemed to be too much, she remembered her nephew's face. She'd made that happen, and as soon as she finished what she was doing here, she could go home and meet him.

Goodwin came and went a couple of times, delivering notes, constructing a list. Almost every morning when she woke up she saw the rewards of his work. Their settlement was gradually growing. But she never saw him.

One night, she thought she heard him. Maybe he came into her house while she was sleeping, adjusted the blankets around her, closed an open window. She thought he might have even lay beside her for awhile, pulling her into his arms. She wasn't sure. She never woke up. Maybe she only dreamed the softly spoken "I love you".

Before she knew it, he was dead.

Ben delivered the news. Whether it was because of his strange fascination with her emotions, or to protect her from hearing it on the grapevine, she wasn't sure. For once, she didn't try to keep her guard up. She didn't care if he was manipulating her.

He was very factual in his report. It made it easier for her, in a way. It was easier for her to pretend that it was just another co-worker, a friend at the most. Tragic, of course, but no more so than if it had been anyone else. She asked for all the details. He didn't hesitate to give them to her.

Over the next few days she developed a morbid fascination with the woman who'd done it. Finally, she couldn't stand not knowing every detail about her any longer. When she requested to see her file, Ben didn't argue.

Looking back, she wondered why that was. How much of what came next had Ben foreseen? How much of it was her fault?

She read. Then she read it again, until every word of the file was permanently imprinted in her memory. Only then did she realise how much she'd changed in recent years.

Here was a woman who had lost a child. The grief had apparently been all consuming, and Juliet could only imagine how tormented she must have been. As a fertility doctor Juliet had once seen women in her situation every day. She emphasised with them, took on some of their pain as her own, endeavoured to give them another chance. Though she never admitted it to them, she pitied each and every one of them.

She couldn't feel that for this woman, though. She'd taken away the one person who made her feel at home in this foreign place, and that thought overrode all others.

Juliet discovered then that she was no longer as compassionate as she had once been, no longer as naive. She was colder now, hardened. And although it was hard to accept such a dramatic change in herself, she knew it was the only way she'd managed to survive thus far.

Time passed. With the new arrivals on the island came new plans, more work. What had been stagnant for so long was now flowing quickly again. Life became more interesting. Juliet found herself about to forget about Goodwin; not permanently, but at least long enough to focus on her job from time to time. Long enough to ease the crushing pain in her chest.

More people were taken, and hostility emerged amongst the flight survivors. Ethan joined Goodwin on a list of the dead. Another funeral without a body.

A final list was formed. Juliet was informed by Ben that she'd play a part in this one. He failed to mention what kind of part. Still, it was something to do to keep her mind off her pain. She accepted the task willingly.

Had Ben known what he was doing when he told Juliet to use Michael to bring those three to them? She didn't see how, but she couldn't believe it was a coincidence either.

The woman was killed. Ben told her all about it, every detail, when he returned to their establishment. This time, she was sure of what he was doing. She knew what he was trying to make her feel, and she hated that she was going along with it.

She felt like justice had been served. She felt no pity for the family and friends that woman had left behind. She wouldn't allow herself to feel any hint of remorse.

Later, when she was once again alone and could think, she felt regret. What had happened to her? Surely it wasn't right to care so little for the loss of another human life.

Now, for the first time, she cried for Goodwin's death. Yet at the same time she was grieving the loss of the person she'd once been. She wanted both of them back.

end.