December 15th

Emily emerged from her bedroom, putting in her earrings in preparation for meeting with Mark. She hadn't gone to overly extreme lengths, appearance-wise, but perhaps further than was altogether innocent for such an occasion. She told herself it was because she didn't exactly have all that many excuses to dress up these days, so she was taking any one she could get. (Even she wasn't entirely certain she believed that...)

She wasn't expecting JJ to be home, as she moved through the little house in search of her coat... Not that she was doing anything wrong, per se, she just wasn't exactly ready for JJ prying into things as she was so very often wont to do...

Of course, she wasn't that lucky...

She came to a sudden halt upon catching sight of her friend/roommate/nosy interloper.

"Don't you look nice," JJ drawled, smirking in a look that clearly suspected she was up to no good. "Where are we going today all dolled up?"

"I am getting coffee with a friend," she answered, hoping she wouldn't have more questions, but doubting that would be the case.

JJ hummed a note of interest, coloured with more than a little suspicion. "A friend, hmm?" she echoed. "Does this friend have a name?"

She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "If I say no, will the conversation be over?"

She just gave her a look that clearly said no way in hell. For a few moments, the two stared at each other in a silent battle of wills...a battle which Emily was always going to lose.

"Mark," she mumbled in answer, not quite loud enough to be heard.

JJ had bat-like hearing, though. "Mark!?" she repeated, shrill. "As in your ex-boyfriend Mark?"

She shrugged. "Maybe..." She turned on her heel, making a dramatic show of search for her shoes so she wouldn't have to face JJ and her incredulty.

"Em! What are you doing?" JJ asked, somewhere between thrilled and confused. "Are you...going on a date?"

"What? No!" she yelped. "Jayje!"

She held up her hands in self-defence. "Just checking," she said. "So, if it's not a date, what is it?"

Glaring, she insisted, "I'm just getting coffee to catch up with him."

"If you say so..."

"You look beautiful," Mark said by way of greeting. "Pregnancy really agrees with you."

She blushed slightly as she sat across from him.

"I'm glad you showed up at the newspaper office the other day," he murmured. "It's been a long time – I've missed you."

She nodded. "It's been busy," she said with a shrug. "You know, between the funeral and preparing for the baby..."

He reached across the table to squeeze her hand where it rested, giving her an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry, you know," he murmured, "About Clyde. He was a good man – he didn't deserve to die so young."

"Thank you," she whispered, though, to be completely honest, she was getting rather tired of apologies and platitudes.

"He always made me laugh, you know?" Mark continued. "He was just...he was one of the best people I've ever known." He paused, laughed a little. "I don't need to sell you on the merits of Clyde Easter, though, do I? Considering you left me for him..."

Sadness washed across her face then. "Mark..."

Something like guilt must've surged inside him then because he immediately backtracked, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that – like an accusation. I don't blame you for finding happiness with someone else."

She attempted a faint smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. Saying nothing, she withdrew her hand from beneath his.

He seemed unable to resist inquiring, though... "Out of curiosity...what was it you found so attractive about Clyde Easter that you didn't see in me?"

She apparently thought he was joking, judging by the way she barked out a laugh. "Good one," she said, "Ask the widow what she saw in her husband, the love of her life, the father of her baby, that made her leave you for him..."

A beat.

She caught the expression on his face then – one that seemed surprised she'd laughed... "Oh..." She paused, eyes wide in shock. "You're serious..."

He shrugged as if suddenly embarrassed by his question. "Well, kinda, yeah..."

Her expression lost all levity then. "You're serious?" she repeated, incredulous now. "You seriously want to know what I saw in Clyde and not you? Well, for one thing, he would never have had the gall to ask such an insensitive and thoughtless question!" She stood from the table with a screech of her chair against the floor. "You know, I wanted to believe that it wasn't a mistake to see you today, but obviously that as an error on my part. Don't bother calling me."

And, with that, she stomped off, slamming the door behind her.

Dear Pilgrim;

I'm sincerely hoping right now that you're not who I think you are...because if you are, I hope you don't have the balls to hope anything between us could happen after today.

And if you aren't...well, I'm sorry for just blowing up at you. As I'm sure you can tell, it hasn't been a banner day for me.

I find it hard to believe that you could possibly be so sweet and thoughtful and kind on paper and then turn around and be such a complete and utter jackass in person. But, like you said, stranger things have happened.

I'm hoping... Hoping that the universe isn't laughing at me for thinking there are still good people in the world. Hoping that people are better than I think they are. Hoping that life, while unfair, is at least worthwhile. I want to hope, but it's so hard sometimes.

I want...you to tell me something good. Something that happened to you. Something that you did that makes everything not some big fucking cosmic joke. Something that I can believe in. I'm begging you: please, be a better person than I deserve.

~ Silver Belle