Spoilers for this chapter: 2x18 "Ravaged"
Thanks: to my beta-reader, AndreaB.
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Chapter 2 – Nick Vera
A tough guy would say, "Don't look back. Don't cry over the past." There are times when it seems that the more the years went by; the closer the past is to you right now.
Today we called an early night. One more case closed. Stillman sent us all home, with one more thanks for a good job done.
A million "what if" questions came to my mind as I watched her walk away from the station that day. But "what ifs" don't change the consequences of the choices you made, and those are the things we ought to stick out to.
Yeah, I know, someone will say, "It's never too late." Right, it isn't. But there are some things you just don't do. Not to some people. And there are things you can't fix. They're still as important as they've always been, but they're out of your reach now. As I leave the building, I take one last look at that corner she turned and disappeared, and I make my way home.
When I open the door, I see the light in the kitchen is on. I'm not surprised she didn't wait for me to have dinner. I'm never home so early in the night. I go into the kitchen, and she's sitting at the table, staring at her plate, far from actually eating what's in it. At the sound of my footsteps, she turns her head. Her face shows no reaction. I walk up to the stove and fill a plate with food, even though I'm not hungry. But right now I need to sit there with her, and sadly, we've reached a point where I need an excuse to do that.
I sigh as I think how I could've gone to the bar instead, but I quickly shake that thought off. We're putting quite a scene, the both of us. Disputing who's got the most fascinating food plate. "So, what happened today?" She starts. "Atomic bomb alert? Bars were ordered to close?" I feel my blood heating up, but I just look the other way. She stares at me for a moment, waiting for the comeback, and I believe my silence hurts her even more.
She goes back to stare her plate. "I'm sorry." I say, trying to look into her eyes. She just stares at me; eyes wide open with surprise.
"What for?" She asks, almost in a whisper.
"For not being here to have dinner with you every night," I answer, and this metaphor is the best thing I can come up with right now. She nods lightly, with a timid smile. "Let's take a walk," I say suddenly, and any objections she had to make are muffled with me getting up and signing for her to follow me.
As we walk down our street, we're silent; but for the first time in years it's not an uncomfortable silence. She's staring at me most of the time, and I'm pretty sure she's trying to figure out what the hell is going on. Still in silence she takes my hand and we keep on walking.
The right path might be dark and steep, but if you take it, tomorrow will give you a new chance – maybe even offer a hand to you.
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Will Jeffries will be next...