Ok, here we go. Another chapter!

Hope you like it!

S.-

"Ya sure he didn' touch Andrea?" Merle spat as they finished their coffee. He was sitting on Andrea's chair and Daryl was leaning against the door, ready to leave. He had to go to that moron's house this morning, check how things needed to be done, but Merle kept making random conversation to postpone the inevitable long hours of work ahead of both.

"Course he didn' touch 'er.. I told ya, I was there. Andrea's a tough girl anyway, she'd have kicked 'is ugly ass", Daryl commented with a chuckle.

"Watcha said 'is name was?" Merle asked, and Daryl rolled his eyes.

"Hell if I know, Merle.. Ed somethin', I reckon. Didn' really catch it", he said impatiently, leaving the coffee mug aside and grabbing the truck keys. "Gotta go, see ya later".

"Ya ain't ever gonna tell me what happened wit' Carol, lil' brotha?" Merle insisted. It was probably the fifth time he asked, and every time Daryl heard her name, his stomach clenched. After almost three weeks.

"Not today, Merle. Jus' drop it. I gotta go", he said with a sigh.

Daryl got inside the truck and checked the address Andrea'd given him. It didn't surprise him at all when he saw the neighborwood he was supposed to drive to; it was the nicest in the town, full of oversized houses and usually more cars than the people who inhabited them. Those houses belonged to wealthy people, people who had so much money and sometimes so much free time in their hands they usually got bored and decided to refurbish it, build a new swimming pool, a new room, whatever, which was the only reason Daryl had been inside too many of them to remember them all. He'd never been too fond of the people who lived in that kind of places, partly because of his own prejuices, but also because he'd noticed how they believed they were better than the people who worked for them. Like if money made them any better, or like if it gave them more power. And it sadly did. Sometimes they had children and the kids would approach him and watch him curiously, keeping their distance. Their ma or pa would walk towards them then, say something on their ear. They probably told their kid they shouldn't talk to that man, because he was a stranger, they didn't know him, and the kids would stay back and watch him, a man they'd never become, just because they had been borned in a different place than him. It reminded him when he'd been a kid himself, and he'd watch his classmates knowing that, for some reason, he'd never be like them, he'd never own the kind of things they did, even though, at that time, he hadn't understood exactly why.

Suddenly he realized it was also the street he'd left Carol that day they'd met, and he wondered if she might be there, in one of those houses, cleaning or going to the groceries to cook for her nasty husband. He wondered, once again, if she'd ran out of fear or if she may be as sick as her husband was. He doubted it, but he couldn't be sure anymore. After all, he hadn't even gotten to know her that much. He kept wondering, ever since that day, if maybe she'd thought even her abusive husband was better than him. Those were too many unanswered questions and he left the thoughts aside, eager to get to this man's house just to focus on something else.

And he got there sooner than he thought, parked the truck outside and clapped his hands, lighting a smoke as he waited and looked around, unimpressed by the luxurious building in front of him. He waited a few minutes and was ready to leave when he saw the man, Ed, get outside the house and walked towards him, a smirk plastered on his face.

"Hey boy, glad you made it. Ain't really easy to get here", he greeted him, patting his shoulder.

"Name's Daryl, like I said tha otha' day", Daryl said, annoyed, but Ed had already turned around and started to walk inside the property, so he followed him.

"Daryl… Daryl, I got it boy", he said cheerfuly, stopping on his tracks. "Well, Daryl, this is where the swimming pool would be, what do you think? Think you can build a nice one for me?"

Daryl looked at the ground, noticing it wasn't exactly flat, but it was manageable, even when it'd require more time.

"We can build it alrite", he commented. "Ain't exactly tha best terrain fer a swimmin' pool, but it ain't impossible either."

"That's what I was hoping you would say, boy". Daryl clenched his teeth, but he didn't correct him this time. He had the impression the man was trying hard to be nice, probably because they'd been close to reject his offer the other day.

"Yea, alrite. I'm jus' gonna take some measuruments today, will be startin' ta work tomorrow", Daryl explained, kneeling down and starting to get ready to work.

"I'm going to get you some lemonade to drink first, it's going to get hot pretty soon", the man told him, motioning with his hand for him to wait.

"I'm good, migh' be better ta jus' get it over wit' this", Daryl replied.
The man frowned but gave him a fake smile.

"Come on now. My wifey, she makes some damn good lemonade. One of the few good things she does if ya ask me". He snorted and winked at him, but Daryl just ignored him. He hated how men always brought women into the conversation to break the ice, either by complaining about them or talking about their tits and asses.

"Yea, well, whateva", Daryl replied, rolling his eyes.

"Woman! Get your ass here will ya?" he yelled, and once again smirked at Daryl, who knew he was supposed to laugh and be thinking what a badass he was, but his face remained serious instead, so serious the smirk on the man's face faded away.

"Can you believe it? Spends all day doing nothing in the house, and she still takes this fucking long", the man barked, and Daryl turned around. The man was starting to get him into his nerves. Not only did he seem dumb, but he was pretty ugly too and now it turned out he was also aggressive. He remembered Andrea's comment about who on hell could have chosen to marry this man, and he couldn't agree more.

"Tha hell's taking you so long?" he heard him yell again, and his fists clenched almost unconsciously, all that yelling reminding him of too many things he'd been trying to leave behind.

"I'm sorry, Ed… I was just making some lemonade for you, and the man here… I figured you'd li.."
She stopped talking the second he realized the voice was familiar, too familiar for it to be just a coincidence, and he slowly turned to face her… maybe it was her sister, her cousin… no… fuck, no. He knew it already, before he even saw her. He could have recognized that voice anywhere. Hell, it was the voice he'd been missing all these weeks. But, what the fuck?

"What the hell, Carol Ann, ya going to walk here with those drinks or do we have to get them with our minds?" he snorted again and glanced at him, and all he wanted to do was fucking punch him. He wanted to run away, get the hell out of there, yet he was unable to move.

He managed to light another cigarrete, hoping it'd sooth him, and he just stared at her. It was all he could do. He looked at her up and down, noticing her hands were trembling under the glasses she was holding. Her cheeks were red and her eyes were watery, yet she instantly looked down and stepped forward, leaving the drinks on a little table. His heart was hammering in his chest and he couldn't drop his gaze off her, couldn't find his voice to mutter a thanks and focus on his work the way he'd probably do if it hadn't been her.

"What's tha matter, huh?!" her husband barked, stepping towards her. "I'm sure the man here doesn't normally dress like this". He laughed at his own joke, and then, as unexpectedly as everything had happened that morning, his phone started to ring.

"Damn, I have to take this", he glanced at Carol and then back at Daryl. "Get him some more lemonade, will ya? Don't want my workers to pass out in the heat. You do what you gotta do, boy. I'll be back in a minute".

Daryl watched Ed get inside the house, the faint sound of his loud voice filling the air. He dropped the butt of his cigarrete to the ground and kicked it, raising such a dust cloud that she became a blur for a second. He saw her walk forward, and he instantly stepped backwards, his eyes now fixed on the ground.

"Daryl…", she said, almost pleadingly.

"Dontcha fuckin' dare", he bursted out. He felt a lump on his throat that kept getting huger as the seconds went by, the surprise and dissapointment too big for him to handle.

"Daryl.. please", she repeated. "Just, please…"

"Seriously, Carol?! Jesus, that even yer real name?" he managed to keep his voice low, but his face looked just like if he'd been yelling.

"Daryl, please", she repeated unceasingly. "I'm sorry, I'm so… so sorry". Tears were falling from her eyes and he hated that despite his anger his heart ached when he saw her cry. She covered her eyes with her hands and he saw a darkened bruise on his upper arm. It was a new one.

"Ya ran back straight ta this?!" he spat, his thumb tracing the shape of the bruise. She dropped her hands from her eyes and sobbed, but it didn't stop him from speaking his mind. If anything, he'd tell her what he'd been thinking all this time she'd been gone.

"Yer a coward! Yer as sick as he is! Ya ran away from me in tha middle of tha night, ya could at least have told me ya couldn't, or ya didn' want ta, whateva reasons ya had.. ya shoulda fuckin' told me!". He was surprised when he heard his own voice tremble, his hands clenched in fists on his sides.

"You'd have tried to convince me, and I couldn't let that happen", she muttered, tears still falling down her face.

The feeling of rage, that he was familiar with. He felt it build in his stomach and he actually had to control himself not to let it all come out. He approached her in one large step, his face inches from hers.

"I sure as hell wouldn' have, cuz if this is what ya want, if this is what yer sick mind thinks ya deserve, then I don' want ya around". The words came out harshly and she took a step back, her eyes wide opened. She took a deep breath and wiped the tears off her face with her hand, her voice calmer when she spoke again.

"Daryl, it's not what you think. It's complicated, too complicated to get you involved… that's why I never.." she stopped, turning around to look if they were still alone. "That's why it was so hard for me to tell you, that's why I disappeared…", her voice was low but the words were coming out fast, her eyes desperately seeking his.

"Yea, whateva. It don't fuckin' matter anymore. Ya made yer decision, this is jus' a fuckin' coincidence we should both forget 'bout". He picked his tool box from the ground and hooked it under his arm.

"What are you doing?" she asked worringly, blinking several times.

"What am I doin'?! I'm gettin' tha hell outta 'ere.. that's what I'm fuckin' doin'. Ya tell 'im I got an emergency… hell, ya tell 'im whateva ya want", he started to turn around but then he felt her cold hand wrap around his forearm. He stopped, but he didn't move.

"Daryl, please don't do this", she begged him, her grip on his arm tightening.

"I ain't gonna be a part 'f this Carol. Ya walked straight back ta 'im.. ain't gonna work 'ere every day an' just watch ya, watch 'im treat ya like that. I can't. I don' fuckin' want to", he muttered, pulling away from her.

Their shoulders brushed when he walked past her, his feet moving straight to the truck even when his mind didn't seem to obey, and he had to stop himself from turning around, which didn't make any sense, because he didn't have anthing else to say.

"Daryl", he heard her call him, and he stopped, but didn't move.

"Maybe I'm a coward, or maybe it's hard to understand...I know it doesn't matter anymore, but just for the record, I've never been happier than those days I spent with you".

And he was glad she couldn't see the tears filling his own eyes too.