Forgiveness

"Maybe this was a bad idea," She said as she twirled her hair around her finger. "Let's quit while we're ahead."

"You can't just run away."

"I'm not running. You were the one who pushed me away."

The room was a wide rectangle, so white that it was nearly blinding. Every chair and table was spaced apart so perfectly, making the room seem even more spacious and bare. They were sitting on the sofa which is hard and not at all comfortable. It was not the kind of sofa you cuddle into on a cold winter night, it was the kind of sofa you sit on only when there's something important going on. It was impossible to lounge on it without receiving a backache.

Aside from the ticketing grandfather clock in the far corner, there was a deafening silence that made a person do nothing but think. There was a large bay window that light poured through, bouncing off the pure white walls, giving everything a grey tint. It smelled like air freshener. Nothing was a warm welcome and everything felt cold to the touch. This wasn't a living room, it was a migraine.

"She doesn't mean anything to me," He stood from the sofa and made his way to the window. "You're the one I really love."

It was raining outside. Raindrops crashed against the glass in a slow, steady rhythm. A little reminder to both of them that there was a world outside their own.

"If that's so, then why did you sleep with her?"

It was an innocent question that she was completely justified to ask. He would have asked the same thing if the roles were reversed. The only thing was that he didn't have an answer.

"I don't know." He answered earnestly.

"Were you drunk?"

"No."

"Were you high?"

"No."

"Then you were just bored then."

He swallowed hard, knowing she was right. Of course he loved her once. But he had grown tired of her and his love for her had faded. He was sick of the same person day in and day out. He needed a change.

His cell phone rang from his pants pocket. Instantaneously he picked it up.

"Is it her?" she asked, crossing her legs and leaning her head in the palm on her hand. "The other woman?"

He didn't say anything; he simply held the phone in his hand and looked at the screen. The sinful name of the woman flashing, a constant reminder of what he had done.

"You shouldn't keep her waiting." She said, looking back at him. "She may get nervous and think you're cheating on her."

"Don't play that game with me." he hissed as he answered his phone. He talked as quickly and quietly as he possibly could, before hanging up.

Her eyes drifted towards the window and she watched the rain fall onto the street. The tree in front of her house that normally looked so full was soaked to the point where its branches sagged tiredly.

"You really should leave," she said. "We're not getting anything done."

"Don't do that to me," he quickly rushed over to her. "I made a mistake, and I know I can't take it back, but I promise you if I could I would."

"Would you really?"

He paused, and looked down.

She sighed and looked up.

"Just leave."

There was a crash of thunder and he hit the wall next to him so hard that she was sure he was going to dent it. His gritted teeth was a sure indicator that he was about to cry.

"Don't hit my wall."

"Please, don't do this," he whispered. "Remember how happy we were?"

"I didn't do anything," she said softly. "You were the one that cheated on me. I didn't do a thing."

He slowly made his way to the front door, as she opened it for him. More grey light shone into the room, basking them both. He turned to her.

"I've said sorry a hundred times," he pressed his lips together. "What do I have to say for you to forgive me?"

She remained silent, and he knew it was over.

With the grin that had won her heart, Ron sighed. "Well, I guess this is goodbye then, Lav-Lav."

She shut the door in his face.