How long had it been since she had been able to be alone?
She sat in the dark of the dining room, slowly nursing a cup of tea. It felt strange to be drinking something so not-alcoholic so late at night.
Outside, the darkest part of night had settled over the street, a soothing cool to the feverish intensity of her worry. She stared through the glass of the window, not watching anything in particular, simply watching.
It felt silly to be unsure. Given the opportunity, shouldn't she want to be redeemed? If such a thing was even possible, that is. Perhaps it was just the notion that for the first time, she had been handed the possibility of changing a decision she had thought permanent at the time. Perhaps she was stupid enough to mourn the pain such a decision had caused her. Because it had been her choice that brought her here, not of her free volition, of course, but still. She had decided to protect her family over herself, and now had to decide how to best protect her family from herself. She could feel the weight of the last five years clinging to her like a thick layer of dirt. Absentmindedly, she brushed at the back of her arm.
Was it stupid of her to wish he would come down? His opinions were never helpful, but he was so certain of them that she could at least build off of that decisiveness. She knew what he'd say, of course; he was a fairly predictable man. He would lie, tell her things that sounded nice but meant very little at all. He'd brush back her hair, kiss her shoulder, and leave her feeling all the more confused in the painful light of the morning. That was what he was good at—twisting things about until nothing made any sense at all. She sighed, laying her head down against the cold wood of the table.
Maybe it didn't matter what she chose. Maybe she was the problem. She certainly had the track record to prove it. And if she really was such a jinx, wasn't the noble thing to stay with the enemy? Although, she wasn't certain she could even call him an enemy anymore. Perhaps that was the trouble. Maybe she was just creating chaos to hide from the fact that she could stay for the simple fact that she wanted to stay. Maybe not every choice had to be a moral one.
She felt guilty as soon as the thought passed through her mind. If anything, it was an indication that she had spent too long here, had picked up his reasoning too easily. She should leave then. Unless, she was so indoctrinated that she would be poison to the cause. Catching her face in her hands, she groaned.
How nice it would be to have someone else make decisions for her. She could survive just about anything, of that much she was certain. But choosing what to survive? She was no good at that. She could adapt to anything but choice.
Suddenly the room seemed too cold, and she was ready with a desire to go back to bed. Back to bed. He would be sleeping, unaware that any of this had transpired. The thought felt treacherous, unkind. She's stay downstairs just a little longer, then. Long enough for her to no longer care.
Maybe that was the answer. Maybe she didn't have to choose. Maybe she could simply isolate herself, build walls until no one cared enough to know her name. How lovely, to be completely incapable of bringing others pain. Softly, she drew a finger around the rim of her cup, listening to the quiet hiss of the wind as it rattled about outside.
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AN-
Hey guys!
Unfortunately, it's that time of year. Time for the obligatory "mid-semester chaos" warning. I'm going to do my damndest to keep updates happening weekly, but I'd rather skip a week and give you a well-written piece later than just throw in filler now. So, if suddenly between now and May I miss an update - I'm not dead. I'm not abandoning. I'm just probably asleep somewhere after a night of thesis work.
Cheers!