Okay, so here's a little angst to add to your Monday.
Thanks to all the wonderful people who took time to read and review. Thanks to Diane for the beta. KM, I'm glad you're surviving! This didn't quite turn out as I'd planned it, but hey, what does?!
FYI: There's one more part after this, and then it's over, over, over!
Conversation E: Sooner Would Have Been Better...
By: Mariel
Jack looked at the phone and willed it to ring. It was within his power to pick it up, dial the number, and reach her, but his hands remained firmly folded on the desk in front of him. Notice given, apartment sold, she was leaving today.
With no goodbye.
He had promised himself to let things go, to let her leave the way she chose. Still, the hurt of their last parting lingered, and the thought of her leaving for New Orleans left him with an unsettled, restless feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Martin poked his head in the doorway. "I'm off. You just about finished?"
There was something in his eyes that said he was asking more, but Jack didn't respond to it. Instead, with a wave of his hand, he indicated a pile of reports waiting for his signature. "Yeah, I just have to sign a few of these."
Martin nodded, but rather than turn to go, hesitated. He wondered if he should say something. No one knew, exactly, what had happened between Jack and Samantha, but it had become glaringly evident that whatever accord the two had once had was gone. It was also obvious that neither seemed happy about it. No one on the team had dared bring up the topic with either of them, though. Perhaps he should be the one. Opening his mouth to speak, he paused, then closed his lips firmly. It was pointless to say anything now. No matter how sad Samantha looked when Jack's name was mentioned, nothing could change the fact of her departure. "All right, then," he finally said. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Picking up one of the reports and pretending to skim its contents, Jack grunted in response. When Martin was gone, he replaced the file to its pile and turned his attention back to the phone. Glaring at it, he again willed the inert piece of black plastic to speak.
Impassive, it sat and stared back at him sullenly.
Glancing up at the clock on the wall, he finally gave in and reached to pick up the receiver. Hating himself for dialling, for being so weak that he couldn't let her go in peace, he dialled anyway and listened to the phone ring on the other end. He hadn't seen her for more than a week, and had not been alone with her in more than three. Allowing the whirlwind of activity caused by her move to occupy her, she had managed to keep her distance from him. He had found the lack of contact painful. Not that he didn't deserve everything he got - or in this case, what he didn't get. Perhaps she was gone already. Perhaps she had unplugged the phone, perhaps-
"Hello?"
The sound of her voice made him pause. "Sam," he finally said, his own voice sounding strangled.
"Jack."
He couldn't tell from her tone if she was glad, sad, or resigned to talk to him again.
"I just wondered how things were. If everything went all right."
"The movers left on schedule, and my taxi should be here in about forty minutes," she told him. "You know, I didn't know how much stuff I owned. I think a person should be forced to move every few years, just so they can clear out some of the junk that accumulates. I can't believe what I took to Goodwill..."
She was grasping for things to say, and they both knew it. He didn't care, so long as he could listen to her voice. Finally, though, her chatter slowed and then stopped. A sad, hopeless silence slithered along the telephone lines between them.
Finally, when he was sure she had placed the phone down and quietly walked away, she said, "Jack..."
She did not continue, but the sadness in her voice made him close his eyes. He pictured her, standing alone in her darkened, empty apartment. Without taking the time to weigh the repercussions, he said what he'd wanted to say since she'd picked up her phone. "Sam, I want to see you before you go. I want to come over."
He waited, not realising he was holding his breath until he released it in a rush when she quietly told him yes.
"There's not much time..." she whispered. "I'll leave the door open."
"I'll be right there," he said. Pulse racing with a newfound sense of urgency, he was already standing and preparing to hang up the phone.
Traffic was bad - it was always bad - but tonight it seemed purposely trying to thwart him. Rain poured down in buckets, slowing traffic still further and making it difficult to see. He honked on the horn impatiently, cursing over the sound of his rapidly swishing windshield wipers. Trying to weave around a taxi stopped to take on a passenger struggling with an umbrella, he cut off another vehicle, whose driver honked angrily, adding to the cacophony of blaring horns already filling the air. Inching forward, he looked at his watch. Twenty minutes had passed. He ought to have been pulling up outside her apartment by now. Instead, he sat barely two blocks from his office.
Pulling out his cell phone, he punched in her number only to have the phone bleep and warn him that his battery was low and no signal was being received. He cursed at its uselessness and threw it onto the passenger seat.
Thirty minutes later, he finally arrived at her apartment. He parked illegally and rushed through the corridors to her apartment. He slowed as he reached her door. It was closed. Without knocking he knew that only gray silence stood behind it. She was gone. There was no sense of her there, only a large, gaping emptiness that pushed at his heart. She hadn't waited. Raising his hand, he hit the door with his fist in frustration, the need to see her still filling him.
She was gone, and it was over.
Really over.
Raising his hand more gently this time, he touched the cool surface of her door.
Gone....
The hollowness that had occupied his gut these past weeks shrieked.
End
Conversations E: Sooner Would Have Been Better...
Diane, I'm sorry. There are new bits in this even since the last one you beta'd. I can't resist the stupid edit feature after I've uploaded....It's a sickness, what can I say?!
Thanks to all the wonderful people who took time to read and review. Thanks to Diane for the beta. KM, I'm glad you're surviving! This didn't quite turn out as I'd planned it, but hey, what does?!
FYI: There's one more part after this, and then it's over, over, over!
Conversation E: Sooner Would Have Been Better...
By: Mariel
Jack looked at the phone and willed it to ring. It was within his power to pick it up, dial the number, and reach her, but his hands remained firmly folded on the desk in front of him. Notice given, apartment sold, she was leaving today.
With no goodbye.
He had promised himself to let things go, to let her leave the way she chose. Still, the hurt of their last parting lingered, and the thought of her leaving for New Orleans left him with an unsettled, restless feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Martin poked his head in the doorway. "I'm off. You just about finished?"
There was something in his eyes that said he was asking more, but Jack didn't respond to it. Instead, with a wave of his hand, he indicated a pile of reports waiting for his signature. "Yeah, I just have to sign a few of these."
Martin nodded, but rather than turn to go, hesitated. He wondered if he should say something. No one knew, exactly, what had happened between Jack and Samantha, but it had become glaringly evident that whatever accord the two had once had was gone. It was also obvious that neither seemed happy about it. No one on the team had dared bring up the topic with either of them, though. Perhaps he should be the one. Opening his mouth to speak, he paused, then closed his lips firmly. It was pointless to say anything now. No matter how sad Samantha looked when Jack's name was mentioned, nothing could change the fact of her departure. "All right, then," he finally said. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Picking up one of the reports and pretending to skim its contents, Jack grunted in response. When Martin was gone, he replaced the file to its pile and turned his attention back to the phone. Glaring at it, he again willed the inert piece of black plastic to speak.
Impassive, it sat and stared back at him sullenly.
Glancing up at the clock on the wall, he finally gave in and reached to pick up the receiver. Hating himself for dialling, for being so weak that he couldn't let her go in peace, he dialled anyway and listened to the phone ring on the other end. He hadn't seen her for more than a week, and had not been alone with her in more than three. Allowing the whirlwind of activity caused by her move to occupy her, she had managed to keep her distance from him. He had found the lack of contact painful. Not that he didn't deserve everything he got - or in this case, what he didn't get. Perhaps she was gone already. Perhaps she had unplugged the phone, perhaps-
"Hello?"
The sound of her voice made him pause. "Sam," he finally said, his own voice sounding strangled.
"Jack."
He couldn't tell from her tone if she was glad, sad, or resigned to talk to him again.
"I just wondered how things were. If everything went all right."
"The movers left on schedule, and my taxi should be here in about forty minutes," she told him. "You know, I didn't know how much stuff I owned. I think a person should be forced to move every few years, just so they can clear out some of the junk that accumulates. I can't believe what I took to Goodwill..."
She was grasping for things to say, and they both knew it. He didn't care, so long as he could listen to her voice. Finally, though, her chatter slowed and then stopped. A sad, hopeless silence slithered along the telephone lines between them.
Finally, when he was sure she had placed the phone down and quietly walked away, she said, "Jack..."
She did not continue, but the sadness in her voice made him close his eyes. He pictured her, standing alone in her darkened, empty apartment. Without taking the time to weigh the repercussions, he said what he'd wanted to say since she'd picked up her phone. "Sam, I want to see you before you go. I want to come over."
He waited, not realising he was holding his breath until he released it in a rush when she quietly told him yes.
"There's not much time..." she whispered. "I'll leave the door open."
"I'll be right there," he said. Pulse racing with a newfound sense of urgency, he was already standing and preparing to hang up the phone.
Traffic was bad - it was always bad - but tonight it seemed purposely trying to thwart him. Rain poured down in buckets, slowing traffic still further and making it difficult to see. He honked on the horn impatiently, cursing over the sound of his rapidly swishing windshield wipers. Trying to weave around a taxi stopped to take on a passenger struggling with an umbrella, he cut off another vehicle, whose driver honked angrily, adding to the cacophony of blaring horns already filling the air. Inching forward, he looked at his watch. Twenty minutes had passed. He ought to have been pulling up outside her apartment by now. Instead, he sat barely two blocks from his office.
Pulling out his cell phone, he punched in her number only to have the phone bleep and warn him that his battery was low and no signal was being received. He cursed at its uselessness and threw it onto the passenger seat.
Thirty minutes later, he finally arrived at her apartment. He parked illegally and rushed through the corridors to her apartment. He slowed as he reached her door. It was closed. Without knocking he knew that only gray silence stood behind it. She was gone. There was no sense of her there, only a large, gaping emptiness that pushed at his heart. She hadn't waited. Raising his hand, he hit the door with his fist in frustration, the need to see her still filling him.
She was gone, and it was over.
Really over.
Raising his hand more gently this time, he touched the cool surface of her door.
Gone....
The hollowness that had occupied his gut these past weeks shrieked.
End
Conversations E: Sooner Would Have Been Better...
Diane, I'm sorry. There are new bits in this even since the last one you beta'd. I can't resist the stupid edit feature after I've uploaded....It's a sickness, what can I say?!