Apologies for the amount of time its taken to update- mixture of laziness, busyness and being fairly stuck. This is miserable- be warned- but I should only have to do 3 more miserable chapters- I think- before it can be happy.
Thanks Kita- I kinda found it odd that they hadn't discussed her not getting the job, especially since he had to give his response to his job as well. Maybe that's me reading too much into it- but I kinda thought it would be fun to play with the idea that their marriage wasn't so great. But don't worry- its gonna have a happy reunited ending.
S.O.S1- no fluff here- not yet anywhos- but soon hopefully.
Ashleigh- you're not slow- I haven't figured it out yet- I imagine I'll get around to it eventually. More sadness- its about all I can write- not any good at the happy stuff
She'd never quite understood before, how tears could be bitter. They were tears- an outlet of misery and pain, how could they be anything but bitter. But the aching stream that poured from her, burning her face before they soaked noiselessly into his pillow, taken from their bedroom for the memories it held; these were bitter tears, an agony that she knew was her fault, but couldn't help drowning in.
Soft dark eyes that lit up when he saw her, the soft whisper of his voice against the back of her neck in a briefing that made her bite her lip, fingers that would press themselves into her when she wasn't paying attention, catching her out every time. They were memories that she didn't deserve to have, and yet they were all she could see. Memories overanalysed so that she knew every intake of breath, not willing to sacrifice a single instant.
Jack had been right, well he hadn't been, not about Greg. But he'd been right about her, she was playing dangerous games. She knew what she was doing. Somehow she'd manipulated the situation so that she was the victim. Tony had been the one who had done the wrong thing, and she was the one who had to pay the price. The pity in their eyes confirmed this, fading to disdain as their hushed voices discussed his probable fate. He would go to prison, deservedly so, and she'd have to spend the rest of her life alone. So she was the one who needed to be pitied.
She wished they could see, she was the one who had done wrong. She was the one who had been captured, she was the one who hadn't been able to prevent him from choosing her over his duty, she was the reason all of this was happening. She was even the reason why there was a brown envelope roughly crushed in a tray in the kitchen, his kitchen.
She hated their pity more than anything, she thought herself hardened to it, but the anger in Jack's eyes, his furious whisper as his fingers bit into her arm, told her how much she had been depending on it. She wanted them to see her as the victim, that Tony was the one who had done wrong.
Because she knows that it wasn't like that at all. She was the one who had been wrong, and Tony was being punished for trying to pick up the pieces for her mistake. And even though some sane part of herself whispers that she couldn't have done anything differently, wouldn't do anything differently even if she could, all she can see is her gaping failure that has put her husband in a little cell, so close but forever behind that stupid glass wall.
So the tears, bitter tears, fall in a way that she had refused to let them ever since they took him away. He was gone, she was never going to be able to get him back; she didn't need to wait for his sentencing for that, the pity she saw everywhere she went confirmed that. And even if she could, he wouldn't want her back. Not after this, not after everything she put him through. It was just easier this way.
She pushes her body closer to the pillow, inhaling his scent and the memories that go with it, refusing to let herself think of the envelope in the kitchen waiting for her signature to settle her future, separate from his, and instead delving deeper into memories she's gone over too many times, wishing desperately that she had more.