Once she was finished with her dinner, Jane put the Styrofoam box on top of the coffee table and stared up at the ceiling. She debated going to bed—their marital bed—but it held too many memories for her. Just twenty-four hours ago, they made love to each other in that bed and, if Jane had known it was going to be the last time she made love to Maura, she would have cherished the moment instead of taking Maura's affections for granted. She would have prolonged each kiss and taken in everything that was so uniquely Maura.
It was now two in the morning and Jane realized hours had passed since she started staring up at the ceiling, hours in which all she thought about was Maura. The living room couch was going to be her bed that night and, although it wasn't the first time she'd fall asleep on the couch, it would be the first time she'd fall asleep without Maura waking her up and telling her to go to bed. Although Jane was annoyed at first, she still found the way Maura woke her up to be so endearing. Maura would gently place kisses along Jane's neck and jaw line until her wife would wake up smiling and pull her onto the couch with her. Those delicate kisses would turn into Jane holding her wife close to her and whispering into her ear how much she loved her and how grateful she was for getting the opportunity to spend the rest of her life with her. Those statements, no matter how cliché, always touched Maura and she'd be so full of need for her wife that she'd want Jane to take her right then and there.
Every beautiful memory she had made with Maura began playing in her mind regardless of how many times she tried to close her eyes or how much she wished everything would stop. By three in the morning, Jane decided to face reality. What she had done was unforgivable and she had lost the love of her life because of it. Six a.m. would mark twenty-four hours since Jane's world turned upside down. The end of life as they knew it was brought on by an e-mail Maura received from an unfamiliar e-mail address. As she did every morning while Jane was still asleep, Maura checked her e-mail. At first, she thought the e-mail was spam, but instead of marking it as such, she accidentally opened it. The first image she saw was her wife kissing another woman. She wanted to believe it was a picture taken before they were married or before they were even dating, but Jane was wearing a shirt she had gotten her for her birthday and her ponytail was the same length she currently had it. There were other images after, but with that first image Maura had seen enough to know her wife had broken their marriage vows. She thought about replying to the e-mail, but instead she gently shut her laptop and returned to their bed. She debated waking Jane, but she wanted to let herself assess this situation so she could approach Jane with a sound mind. Much to Maura's disappointment, Jane woke up half an hour later and she still hadn't thought of a way to properly approach the subject.
It was almost like a reflex for Jane to hold her wife whenever she cried and this time was no different. She didn't know why Maura was crying, but before she could ask, she scooted herself closer to Maura and wrapped her arms around her. Jane was taken aback when her wife pushed her away and hurriedly stepped out of bed.
"What's wrong?" Jane asked, still half asleep.
"You kissed another woman," Maura said matter-of-factly.
"Maura, I would never do that to you," Jane insisted, although she knew she had been caught. Maura was rational and there were never any false accusations or jealousy from her, so why she chose to deny it was beyond her.
"Who is this?" Maura asked as she pulled up the e-mail on her phone. Jane briefly looked at the photo and set Maura's phone on their bed. She knew she should say something, but at that moment there was no way of explaining herself. She had cheated on her wife and there was photographic evidence. Jane was silent for a few seconds, which seemed like an eternity for the two of them.
"Who is she?" Maura asked in a raised voice. She would have sounded angry if not for the crack in her voice at the end of her question. Jane knew her wife wanted to yell at her, but she couldn't stop crying.
"She's—" Jane began to say, but Maura wouldn't let her finish. The intelligent, headstrong Maura Isles Rizzoli had gone from facing her wife to crying into her pillow. She knew there was no way to console her, but Jane still had the urge to hold Maura. With her arms wrapped around Maura, the two of them looked into each other's eyes, both with different thoughts in their head; Maura wondering how her wife could betray her and Jane wondering how Maura could still look so beautiful while crying. She knew it was the most imperfect timing, but she couldn't control the urge she had to kiss Maura. Their lips met for a second before Maura pulled back and got out of bed yet again.
"How could you do this to me?" she asked hysterically, not quite knowing what to do with herself.
"I was drunk," Jane admitted, although she knew it was a sorry excuse for cheating on her wife—if there was even a good excuse for cheating.
"And that's supposed to justify what you did?" Maura asked. She had ceased crying and Jane's excuse had made her infuriated.
"It can't be justified," Jane told her. "Maura, I'm sorry."
"You lied to me," Maura pointed out. "You dishonored our vows and you lied to me. You looked me in the eyes and denied being with another woman, Jane."
"I'm sorry," Jane repeated, her head hanging low.
"Did you fuck her?" Maura asked, surprising Jane with the vulgar word that she only used in the throes of passion.
"Yes," Jane whispered.
"I didn't hear you," Maura said angrily, although she heard Jane perfectly. She wanted her wife to admit to what she had done.
"I fucked her," Jane shouted. "Do you want me to say it again, Maura? I'm not proud of what I did."
The next hour was a whirlwind for Jane as she watched Maura pack a suitcase and some things for Bass. She petted Jo Friday on the head one last time, put her wedding ring on the table, and drove off without telling Jane where she was going or when she'd be back.