Disclaimer: Let it be known that these characters and story upon which this is based have been disclaimed to their proper owners.
W00t. 5 reviews, I think? Insane.
She hadn't said anything.
Maybe that was your problem. You didn't notice when she didn't talk.
He'd kissed Angela goodnight when she spoke.
She didn't think they were working out.
It wasn't either of them. It was just...she wasn't committed anymore, and he wasn't there anymore.
He couldn't counter. She was right.
You were just too stupid to notice it.
He told her he was sorry.
She said he didn't need to say that. She said that maybe they just needed to reconnect. Reconnect. That was the word she used.
You don't know what she's saying.
He really didn't know.
She said she felt like she was stuck.
He said he loved her.
She smiled. The smile lines in her face creased for a second.
Me too, she said.
And in a way, he did love her. It was just different from other loves. Theirs was love. It wasn't love.
He couldn't explain the difference. He didn't know how.
She took Angela with her on a vacation. Maybe then they could figure out what made them so happy and take it back.
He didn't know what she meant.
He watched the first snowflakes fall from the sky alone.
He read the magazines she subscribed to alone.
He got the letter a month later. He wasn't quite sure what it said.
Then the paper mentioned her name. He read the article, feeling alive for the first time in years.
He re-read the letter, and knew exactly what she wanted, even if she didn't.
She had signed it Ann.
He'd called her Andrea for the past two years.
Romantic? Sure. Very idealistic. But the person I based Andrea on is getting divorced. I have to share her pain. And...other supportive stuff
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