He felt her hand quickly pull away. His vision was still blurry, and he felt like his head was pounding, like people were hitting him with a hammer over and over again in the head. He felt like the world was spinning, and it wouldn't stop. Slowly though, his vision started to clear up, and he slowly got more and more confused. He looked straight in front of him, and he could see her blue eyes staring at him, watching as he looked at his surroundings. He looked passed her, and saw a group of men zipping up the body bag that contained his wife of five years. He looked down and saw that he was on a stretcher himself, and figured he was probably moved here after he fainted. He looked back over to her, and saw that she had turned and was now talking to someone else. That was okay with him though, because right now, he just needed to be alone with his thoughts.
He thought back to that morning, the last morning he'd ever spend with Taylor. They'd sat at the table, and ate breakfast. She'd made eggs and toast like usual, and he'd read the paper while she cooked. She'd asked him how work was going, and he told her that it was going good. Then, there was a silence that always seemed to work its way into their lives, and before he knew it, he'd left to work. It had never once crossed his mind that Taylor would be murdered. It had never crossed his mind that anyone would want to murder Taylor.
He looked over to where Marissa was standing, and saw that she was watching him while talking to the other person. She quickly looked away though, and he watched her as she made her way to every person that she could find, and talked to them. He couldn't think straight though, and though he was looking at her, it was like he wasn't seeing her at the same time. They had a past yeah, but that was the past. Right now, all he could think about was that his wife was dead. He'd never see his wife again, never talk to her again, never kiss her again.
He sighed and tried to calculate the last time he ever did any of these things really. They didn't talk much, and he never really looked at her like he used to, not like she was the most important thing to him. And he hadn't kissed her in a long time, not even a small peck on the cheek. So why was he so upset? Why was guilt overtaking him, making him feel like this was all his fault? Why did he even care that Taylor had died?
Because she's your wife, and you love her. A voice told him. He looked at Marissa again, and began to wonder what she was doing here after all. How did she know where he lived, and how did she know to come at this time? He sighed, knowing that he needed to talk to her, needed to find out where she'd been, but all he wanted to know was what happened to Taylor. He couldn't let himself think of Marissa, not now anyways.
So he thought about Taylor again. He heard a rumble come from the sky, and knew that it would rain soon. And as he felt the small rain drops start to fall down onto his body, he watched as everyone tried to get cover from the rain, and put up their umbrellas. He didn't though. He stood up from the stretcher he was on, not feeling the pain anymore and opened his arms for the rain to fall onto him. And as he looked over to Marissa who was now making her way to him, he felt a small hint of a smile form on his lips. She didn't have an umbrella either, and rather looked happy in the rain. When she reached him, he stared up at the sky and softly said, "Taylor always loved the rain." He looked over to her with sad eyes and said, "She would come outside and just stare at the sky, arms out, and let the rain fall on her, soaking her." He felt as his clothes became completely soaked and then looked up at the sky again, causing rains to get in his eyes. "She would've loved this."
She looked at him for a long while, and then sighed. "I'm going to be working the case of your wife's murder. So far, we have barely anything, but we're sending her body over to the lab for an autopsy. We believe that she was shot multiple times, and that's what killed her, but we just need to be sure." She looked down and in almost a whisper, she said, "I'm really sorry for your loss."
He just nodded and looked at the ground also. "I have to go to a hotel, don't I?" He asked, curious. He saw her nod and continued, "And you're probably going to keep her body for a long time, so I'll just plan a service without it." He ran his hand through his hair, and suddenly the pounding in his head was back. He felt a bump on his head, and realized that he'd probably hit his head on the ground when he fainted.
"Are you okay?" She asked, probably seeing that he was wincing from the pain. She put a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him probably, but only making him feel more uncomfortable.
"My wife just died, how can anything ever be okay again?" He asked her, staring deep into her eyes. She seemed to flinch under his hard gaze, and looked away.
"I don't know." She replied softly. "Is there anything I can do to help?" She asked, a hopefulness in her voice that he couldn't understand. "Is there anything you need?"
He looked over to where the Crime Scene people were loading up all the evidence into their van. He still saw her body bag, and through clenched teeth, he said, "Find the bastard that did this to Taylor, and make them pay." He looked over to her, hate evident in his eyes, and asked, "Am I done here, or do I have to stay?"
"I'll contact you if I need you, or if I have any other information."
He nodded and grabbed his keys from his pocket. "See you then." He said, leaving her to watch him go. He didn't want to talk to her, didn't even want to look at her right now. She had meant something to him once, had meant the whole world to him. But now, she was just the detective working the case of his wife's murder.
And for now, that was okay.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She'd waited years for this moment, the one when she finally saw him again. She was supposed to run into his arms, and be welcome. He was supposed to tell her that he'd missed her, and that he only loved her, even after all these years. Then, she would say that she was sorry she'd left so suddenly, and sorry that she'd never tried to stay in touch. They were supposed to become lovers again, and eventually get married and have children, and be together forever. But none of that happened.
Instead, it all started about an hour or two before time, when she received a call that there was a murder. She'd immediately gone on scene and found out that the victim was Taylor, as in Taylor Townsend. But then, she'd found out that it was no longer Townsend, but rather, Atwood. And then she'd found out that Ryan was a really successful architect, and that they'd been married for five years. That's when she got the first clue that she wasn't going to have her chance with Ryan.
And then he'd come and fainted when he found out about his wife's death, and she'd watched as they put him on a stretcher instead of the ground. He'd hit his head, and they wanted him out of the way also. And she'd ran her hand over the bump that was beginning to form on his head, but he woke up, and she'd avoided him. And when she did walk over to him, he looked like a lost soul, so she didn't tell him what she needed to. That she wanted to be friends with him. That she wanted to apologize for everything. But she didn't say anything, just let him watch her.
And even when he left, she didn't say anything then either. Because there was nothing to say, no words that could make him feel better. She'd worked as a Detective for the past five years now, and had just recently transferred from Hawaii. She was single, not really having the time for a relationship. Not that she hadn't been in one since she'd last left Newport, there were plenty of guys, just none that she could see herself with. She'd only felt that way with one person, and he would barely even look at her right now.
She realized that everything they'd once had was in the past, and that now they were here, there was no reason to believe that they were going to end up together. She just wanted to be his friend, because even when she wasn't with him, sometimes being his friend was what got her through her life.
But he was too caught up in Taylor's death to notice her. He must have really loved her. So now she decided to work the best she could at solving the murder. That's what got her through life sometimes, the comfort that she'd put away the bad guy, that justice would be served. So she decided to swallow all her feelings towards him.
And hoped that they wouldn't surface again anytime soon.
A couple of days later, she was still nowhere with the investigation. She'd worked all she could, but they still weren't done in the lab, and until they were, there was really nothing she could do. They did know that she died of multiple shots to her head. Besides that, they didn't have anything. She didn't even have any suspects yet, but not like she was really sure where to start. So Summer had convinced her to come to Taylor's memorial service.
Which she could already tell wasn't a good idea. For one, everyone looked at her suspiciously when she walked around. They looked at her like the outsider, when once she'd been the most known person in Newport. Secondly, she didn't even know Taylor personally, and even when she did all those years ago, they were rivals. It was awkward to be giving respect to someone she didn't know, and even really didn't like.
And then to make things even more awkward, the only available spot for her to sit at during the Eulogy was by Ryan, who still didn't really even look at her. So while they were talking about Taylor, and how great she was, she was watching Ryan for any type of reaction to the words being said. Nothing. He just stared straight ahead, like he was in another universe.
Once they were done speaking, and they everyone went about talking amongst themselves, she just sat there, not knowing where to go. Summer was off crying with Kirsten, and she really didn't know anyone else. So she fidgeted with her hands, and tried not to draw attention to herself. Ryan still hadn't gotten up, and was sitting next to her, still staring straight ahead. "Umm….I really haven't gotten anywhere with the case yet." She said, not knowing if he was listening. "I don't know of any possible suspects, and I just know how she died."
He didn't say anything, so she took it as a sign that he was doing either two things. One, he couldn't hear her, or two, he was ignoring her. She sighed and started to get up, but heard him start to talk. "Ever notice that there's three types of people that come to a funeral?" He looked over to her, and she sat back down. "There's people like me and Summer, those that were close to the person. People that are grieving, and really knew the person. And then there's people like them over there…" He said, pointing to the Newpsies of Newport. "People that come for the latest gossip and social hour. And then there's people like you." He said, looking at her with sad eyes. "People that come not even knowing who died, but somehow manage to come anyways to show their respect. People that are like outsiders in the group, people that don't know where they belong." He stood up and looked around the room. He looked back down at her and gave her a small nod and then said, "Thanks for coming." And walked away.
