His mouth dips like a savage line committing suicide and he laughs but he isn't amused. He never is when he's with her. He looks like he's about to cry, but he can't because she's there and someone has to be strong. She is a woman and even though she's stronger than he can ever contemplate being he must always be strong for her.
He's not strong and she knows that and her lips curl like a noose.
He tries and she hates him for trying so hard and still not being. Sometimes she wishes for him to try harder and sometimes she wishes he had never tried at all.
She doubts that him doing either would make any difference.
They are in the kitchen. It is small and dank and the walls might've been painted a vile salmon colour if there wasn't so much dirt.
If there wasn't so much dirt the rent would be high and the dirt of the streets would be all that would replace it. Neither of them like the dirt of the house but it is better than the dirt of the streets so neither of them bother to clean.
They both want that clean house with the vile salmon walls but she is strong and he is not and when she pulls the trigger and never hesitates he is dead and she is strong.
Julia Rothman is thirty now and she still never cleans and she still
doesn't have a house with vile salmon walls. The walls of her mansion are a soft baby blue but you still can't see them because of the dirt that cakes them. She doesn't clean because she has the money to pay for five butlers and maids to do it for her. But money doesn't mean anything and she doesn't pay anyone to clean anything because she's too scared they'll kill her in her sleep.
If Julia Rothman wasn't so strong she might think that not much has changed in fifteen years and wonder why she was doing this at all. But Julia Rothman is strong and all that the strong think about is their own strength.