Chapter 23

"This isn't what it looks like." Arguably those are some of the worst words you can ever tell a significant other. It implies one of two things: 1) you were caught doing something wrong or 2) you were caught doing something that wasn't wrong but, you still feel guilty as hell.

I'm number 2. Literally, number 2 because when she backs away from me I feel like total shit. "Mac wait."

Perhaps grabbing her isn't the wisest of ideas, I've seen her fight plus, after seeing what she did to Brumby I'm starting to believe Mac's probably a ninja. Whatever the case maybe, she fights my hold, breaks free of it as well. "Don't."

"Let me explain. please."

Mac takes a breath and her hangs wring her cover so tightlybI imagine the black EGA diggig into her skin. She purses her lips, opens them to say something then with a shake of her head, decides against it. "I guess I expected too much.. I pushed you too soon. I'm sorry."

I hate that her eyes literally glow when she cries. I hate that she looks as stunning as ever with tears in her eyes. I hate how she makes me feel, like a helpless louse that can't stop hurting her. I hate myself. In a way I hate her for walking into my apartment unannounced though I gave her a key to come and go as she pleases.

"I wasn't hiding this, any of this from you." I wave my hand in the direction of the coffee table and she follows the motion with her eyes. "I needed to find what was missing."

"Did you?"

"Yes. Sit down, please. Please let me explain."

I sit on the sofa and Mac on the chair, seemingly keeping herself as far away from the letters as possible. She eyes them with distaste over the brim of the coffee cup she sips from, eventually settling her sights on Diane's Academy picture. "May I see that?"

I nod and place it in her hand, that one picture which started out catastrophic slide and forced Mac to move away. She'd seen it once befote but neber studied it as carefully, furling her brow as she took in the details.

"There are differences." I say because one time I held Diane's picture next to Mac's and found all the tiny details which differenciated both women. Even in her Academy photo, Diane's smile screamed of mischief while the one on Mac's service record was soft and genuine. "I'm over her, Mac. Believe me."

"I want to." She reaches out and hands the picture back to me, blancing it in the palm of her hand as if it were fragile. "It can't be easy for you, seeing me. Seeing her when you look at me."

"That's past."

"Is it?"

"Yes." I glance at the picture and frown at the life that was taken far too soon. They say that God has reasons for his actions, her murder was one I'd never understand. I've come to terms with it, with Diane plotting her own demise because of the silly games she liked to play. I was a pawn as well and I don'r thibk I'll ever forgive her for that.

"I haven't thought about this box in months. I forgot about it until it whacked me over the head when I was cleaning."

She looks up at me and winces. Mac's lips curve enough to give me some sort of lopsided grin as if she finds that amusing. "Really?"

"Oh yeah, pretty sure I have a bump." She comes off the chair to sit next to me and then I feel her fingers in my hair. Gently, she feels around, finding said bump. "Ouch, it's still tender."

"Did you find something else?"

One of the letters, the last one I read was still unfolded. It lay next to its counterpart and for the first time since her death, someone else gets to read it. When I give it to Mac she hesitates. When she begins to read it, a blush creeps up her neck. It's the love letter where I ask Diane point blank if there's a future and that I looked forward to that cabin in Maine.

It isn't explicit but it is desperate and I see Mac's expression is impassive. "You sound…"

"Obssessive?"

"No. Lonely… This isn't a man in love, Harm."

No it isn't and she's right, I was lonely then and depressed that every relationship I had scuttled on purpose. Diane was my last hope. "We would have been so miserable."

When I hand her the next letter, Diane's reply, her face twists ans darkens. She sees what I saw, the complete disinterest, a woman that wanted little to do with me. I still feel played and cheapened. I'm embarassed when Mac drops the letter on the table as if it burnt her. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not...I went through all of these, read every single one. I don't like what she made me, I'm ashamed of it."

She twists to face me, her eyes catching a flash of the flames licking my small fireplace and before she has a chance to speak, I realize what I must do. "Harm?"

I stand abruptly, taking a fistful of letters with me as I cross the living room and open the door to greet the flames. Without warning, I toss the letters into the fire. They burn quickly and I feel this sense of peace surround me for the first time in years. "Help me."

"Are you sure?"

"She'll haunt me forever if I don't."

One by one they burn, the flames consuming each word, each letter, taking another peice of my insecurity with it. Mac cracks a window open to ease the smell of charred paper until there's nothing left but pictures she'd sent through her tours. There wasn't a single one of the two of us, no memory or memento which stated we were once a happy couple.

On my shelf, I spy images of Mac and me, ones taken far before we got together and I realize I've always cared more for my partner than anyone else. I've let her in, she's seen my dark side. She's gone to the edge of Hell with me and helped me come back. She loves me for me.

All that remains is her academy picture, the one with the mischevious smile and the bright face of a hopeful plebe. "Keep that one." Mac suggests and I'm surprised she would say that at all. As I look up from the image, her hand falls over mine. curling my fingers over the glossy paper.

For some reason, it feels wrong to burn this one, like I'm disrespecting the dead. "I should but I can't. I have my memories, some bad but a lot of good. I'll honor her that way."

She held me as we watched the picture's edges curl up and eventually burn. She held me for almost an hour as we sat in silence by the light of the flames. I half expected some etheral version of Diane to materialize but all I found was calm. Peace and calm in the arms of a woman I loved more than anything.

Goodbye Diane, goodbye.