She sat on their bed, propped up against the dark oak bed post. She held a cigarette in her hand and put it out on the golden ash tray that sat beside her on her bedside table. She exhaled, a cloud of smoke forming in the brisk wind that came from their bedroom window that was slightly pushed open. The room was lit only by the wintry sky against their ivory curtains that swayed a little from the breeze. Her husband stood in front of the window, creating a grey silhouette around him.

The velvet black covers slipped off of her shoulders and fell down to her thighs. Only in her French black lace lingerie she shivered to the touch, curling herself in a ball as her teeth chattered. "It's the middle of January. Why on earth would you have the window open?"

He barely turned his head to glance back at her with little interest, then retreated to staring out of the window again. "I suppose I hadn't noticed." He mumbled. "It's cold in here no matter the weather."

She glared at him, gritting her teeth. She threw the blankets off of her until they were shoved to the foot of the bed. She sat up, her feet touching the cold wooden floor. She stood up quickly hoping to gain some sort of warmth. Hanging off the bed post was her long satin black robe, she pulled it off of and slipped it over her, quickly wrapping it tight around her slender body.

She looked over her husbands' shoulder to see what had captured so much of his attention- though she was sure she already knew. Through the curtains she could see the green light, glittering across the frozen bay. She saw the red brick house standing behind it that she remembered fondly. The house was a beautiful memory and a horrible reminder to what had been and what is now. Damn that light. Her husband stood in front of her, already dressed in a black and white suit for the day. She was certain he had been up to something way before she had even been awake.

She stared at the back of his neck, picturing how his eyes were looking forlornly over the same object he had once claimed to despise. It had been a year though, now that they were home and he was well again she supposed that green light had taken her place as his one enchanted object once more.

With a shaky breath she spoke. "You're still in love with her, aren't you?"

She felt she had watched him forever, as if time stood still yet it didn't. He didn't respond, standing as a statue for what must have been hours as she and her servants gathered all her things in the house. He didn't even say goodbye as she ran down the steps of that glorious mansion she thought was her home.

She could feel his eyes staring at her threw the window as she headed to her car outside, promising herself to never look back as she drove out of his sight and out of West Egg forever.

A/N- That's my first short story for the piece, a little Jordan/ Gatsby action if Gatsby somehow survived and Nick still left for the west. Though I know something like this wouldn't happen I'm really interested in exploring something between these two & I plan to write other stories on that. Comments appreciated always, should post more up soon.