"A sad misfortune came over me
Which caused me to stray from the land
Far away from my friends and relations
Betrayed by the black velvet band."
-Grace Burgess
Savannah's a good fit for her.
The university is gorgeous and the professors are passionate and even though she's not quite sure what she wants to major in, she's having a good time figuring everything out. The scholarship from New York isn't valid here, but her financial aid covers part of the cost and she takes out a student loan to polish off the rest. With what's left over she rents a tiny little loft that's twenty minutes away from campus and which she'll be able to comfortably afford on her own if she can find herself a job soon.
And when she says 'tiny', that's exactly what she means.
But it's hers and it's home and for once she's really going to be independent and able to make her own decisions without rendering explanations to anyone else.
The flat is located right in the middle of a busy block but all the shop owners are friendly and try their best to make her feel welcomed in their tight-knit community. There's a flower shop on the corner, of the 'Mom & Pop' variety, and when she steps inside in search of calla lilies for her table she runs into an older woman named Jacqui, who owns the locale. They have a short conversation, which mostly consists of Beth reminiscing about growing up gardening with her mother and how she's new in town and there for university, and by the time she leaves she's got an offer to work part time and flexibility to set her hours around her class schedule.
By the time her sophomore year starts she has a job and a place to live and her future is looking bright.
Things are slotting into their predestined slots.
If she's also incredibly lonely, well, it's not like you can have everything in life.
…
She's been living there for three months when trouble comes knocking on her door.
There's a boy.
Who's not a boy anymore, not really, but instead a couple of years older than her.
His name is Zach and he drives the delivery truck for the company Jacqui buys her fertilizer from. He's the butcher's grandson and well-known and loved and he develops a sort of silly crush on her after she's there waiting to sign for the order a few weeks back. He comes by every-other day and buys single roses that he gifts her and asks her out on dates every chance he gets. She says 'no' every time with a kind smile and a small laugh and he never holds it against her or gets angry or turns pushy, so she's not mad when he keeps coming back.
Until word of his infatuation spreads around and suddenly everywhere she turns there's people telling her what a great guy he is and how she should give him a chance. The giggles start the moment he steps into the shop and there are sly remarks about young lovers in the making and this silent expectation for her to give into the pressure and just go with the flow for once.
'Come on, Bethy; don't you want to make people happy?'
So she does.
He takes her out for dinner to a fancy restaurant in the city and he's all cleaned up and polished and she feels inadequate and out of place because she was expecting them to go out for pizza or a burger and hadn't bothered to dress up. So, he's sitting there in his slacks and his dress shirt and tie with his hair slicked back and she's across from him, wearing jeans and dirty boots and an old blouse she's had since she was thirteen with her hair pulled up into a heavy bun. People are staring, because this might be the city and they might be hip but there are still expectations to be met by girls from the South and she's just about flunking each and every one.
He talks about his little sister and his parents and how he lives with his grandpa. He shares anecdotes about his adventures with his friends and staying out all night for concerts and getting caught sneaking back into his house by the neighbors. Zach gushes about his car, and Beth doesn't hold it against him because he explains how he worked his butt off for years so he could afford it on in his own without needing to ask his family to help him out.
They go for a walk around the busy city block once they're done eating and everything's fine until he tries to hold her hand.
He's just a nice, normal guy.
He reminds her of Jimmy a lot, that way.
And, just like with Jimmy after her momma died, she can't stand his touch.
Beth snatches her hand away, skin burning like acid was poured over it, and freezes in place. He breathing turns ragged and her skin turns pale and she knows she must look like a spectacle with her wide eyes full of panic as she backs away from him.
"I can't do this," she whispers, closing her eyes and doing her damn best to control her breathing.
When she opens them again Zach is staring at her, plain worry on his face and she can tell he's trying to decide whether he should just leave her be or try to offer his comfort in the middle of her obvious breakdown. She feels bad for him, because he's a good guy and he doesn't deserve to have to deal with the mess that she is, but then she remember how many times she tried to tell him she wasn't interested and everything sort of just blanks out and what Zach is feeling doesn't really carry an ounce of weight for her in the end.
He settles on just nodding, understanding, and then they're back in his car and he's driving her home and suddenly his cologne smells too strong and the seats are too close and the windows are too dark and the music too low and everything is too much and she needs him to hurry up so she can be back in her loft already, safe and at peace and alone.
"I'm sorry," he apologizes once the car stops, right in front of her home and she's already got her seat belt unbuckled and is reaching for the door handle but his sincerity makes her stop to listen. "I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable."
"It's not your fault," she manages to get out, not sure how to explain any of her actions without looking like an even bigger maniac or having to describe the events that led to her being such a wreck. Beth stares at him, and then decides to give him just a small sliver of an explanation, because people deserved to know when something going terribly wrong wasn't on them and that sometimes they just got dealt a bad hand. "I've just got some things to work out, and I've got to be alone to do so."
And then she's out of the car and climbing the stairs and shutting the door behind her and it's not until her ears register the click as the lock falls into place that her lungs begin to function properly again and she feels like she can breathe.
The next morning she has work and everyone is hassling her for details and Beth reassures them that she had a lovely time but that she doesn't think she'll be dating for now and when Zach walks in later he does the same and neither speaks of that night again. He still comes by for his weekly deliveries and every time he sees her he buys her a rose and tells her he hopes she has a nice day and that she looks pretty but he never asks her out again and she's thankful for it because somehow she's sure she can count on him to be her friend.
Plus, maybe one day he'd understand that she was doing him a favor.
Guys like Jimmy and Zach, they deserved nice girls without emotional baggage.
…
It's June 17th and it's her birthday and she's just turned twenty.
Beth's officially done with her sophomore year of university and a little white lie about having to work the summer so she can save up for a trip to London has her Daddy relenting on his insistence that she goes back to the farm for the summer. She loves and she misses him and Patria and Otis but she knows she's not ready to be back home yet. So he calls her bright and early to sing her Happy Birthday and catch her up on their daily news. She listens intently as he complains about the rise in gas prices and mentions a new family moving into town and a change in control happening with the Sheriff's Department.
Plus, there's wonderful news for the Greene Family.
Maggie is pregnant.
Her sister and Glenn had apparently headed off to Atlantic City with a group of their friends and gotten married in a deliciously tacky wedding so Maggie could prove her point that traditional ceremonies were overrated and that the only thing that mattered was that two people loved each other. It happened the first winter after Beth left for college and now her sister was going to be a mother and officially form her own little family.
Beth feels sick to her stomach.
It's not that she hates Maggie, or resents her happiness.
No.
Never that.
She loves her sister; loves her fiercely and would be the first one to lay down her life for the oldest Greene sibling if push came to shove. She loves her and loves Glenn and she's happy that they found each other and once that little baby was born, she would love it just as much.
This is about something deeper than that.
It's about trust being broken and disappointment and a sense of betrayal that ran ragged and deep and left her feeling like a zero to the side. It's about being left alone when she needed her to stay and about pretending like nothing ever happened and like they could just be okay. It's about everything and nothing in particular and being replaced and overlooked and missed phone calls on the weekends and months without text messages. It's about two people who grew up being everything for each other suddenly disappearing.
It's about heartbreak.
So she tells her Daddy to congratulate Maggie for her and then tells him she has to go because she's got to get ready for her birthday celebration and to not worry and that, yes, she's happy.
Beth doesn't cry, because she doesn't do that anymore.
(But it doesn't mean she doesn't want to.)
So she puts on her favorite movies and gorges on her favorite ice cream and she's just about to start playing Tom Waits and baking brownies when Amy comes barging into her home, carrying two long and black plastic bags, glaring at her baby blue pajamas and demanding that she gets dressed immediately.
"It's your birthday and we're going to get all dolled up so we can go out for lunch and then we're going to hit up the new art exhibit the Dolgens are hosting," she declares, shoving one of the bags into her arms and effectively pushing her behind her dressing curtain. Amy slides it close and yells out, "I'm giving you an hour to get ready and then we're leaving!" before heading over to her bathroom.
"Okay, okay!" Beth calls back, thankful for the sudden interruption in what she'd originally planned to be a quiet day in.
She's not much for loud celebrations anymore, but she'll admit that going out for some good food and browsing through pieces of art in a pretty dress does have its appeal. And the dress really is gorgeous; all black lace and a gold trimming that leaves her back exposed but covers everything else and ends just below her knees. She pulls her hair back into a high ponytail and slips into her favorite high heels and by the time she's finished and looks in the mirror Beth's having a hard time recognizing herself.
She looks young and happy and normal.
She feels beautiful.
"Oh, you're such a fucking babe," Amy teases her the moment she steps back into plain sight, doing a little show of twirling around in her dress while blushing scarlet the whole time.
Beth throws her arms around her, pulling the only girl she counted as a best friend into a tight embrace. Amy always had a way of knowing exactly what she needed and making her do things to pull her out of her funks. "You're the best," she tells her, pulling back and grabbing her purse from the counter. "Now let's go because I'm hungry!"
They drive down to a diner that has some of the best food she's ever tasted and are way, way, too overdressed and there's a group of teenagers blatantly staring at them but neither girl cares as they proceed to order a tower of onion rings and strawberry milkshakes along with their burgers. Amy flirts with the waiter, batting her eyelashes at him and scoring them a large plate of mozzarella sticks, and Beth giggles at her antics but doesn't interfere with her friend's fun.
Once they're finished and stuffed they step outside only to realize the sun is setting and the streets are pretty empty, so they pull out their phones and take random pictures and even though this morning all she wanted to do was lay down and cry, right this moment she couldn't think of the last time that she'd had so much fun. By the time they reach the gallery, they're both exhausted and disheveled, but happy. They've only been perusing for around twenty minutes when Amy's phone rings, loud and obnoxious with a Taylor Swift beat inside the quiet building. She excuses herself, stepping outside to take the call and Beth's momentarily left to wander alone.
She stops once she reaches a black and white portrait of a young woman, immaculately dresses in an elegant gown and with her features drawn to perfection. There's a wide smile on her face and she looks beautiful and poised but her eyes are bland and void of emotion. In front of her stands a floor-length mirror, and in that reflection the same girl is standing there except now her make-up is smeared and her clothes are poor and torn and her eyes are full of pain and panic.
Beth gaps, knowing exactly why it made her feel so many things and desperately trying to squash them back down her throat before they can escape; so transfixed on the small portrait that she doesn't even notice when a man stands beside her. "That's my favorite, too."
She turns her head, surprised to find a handsome man standing beside her, but what catches her attention even more is that he's not looking at her; he's looking straight ahead at the portrait with a concentration and sadness in his chocolate brown eyes that forces her to do a double-take.
"The artist drew it for his mother, you know?" he asks, finally turning to look at her. "She suffered from bipolar disorder and they had a really rough time in his family because of it. It's meant to be a reflection of the image we present to society because it is expected of us while we struggle with the demons we carry beneath."
"Sorry," he apologizes, a soft tint marring his tanned skin. "I know that's not exactly the best way to start a conversation, but I just really love the feeling behind this piece and it's rare to find someone else who understands what it means. My name's Pete, by the way."
"It's okay," she reassures, shaking the hand he offers her in greeting and smiling at him. "I'm Beth, and I understand what you mean. It's really rather breathtaking."
It is.
It's simple and elegant and raw and ugly but overall beautiful and real.
He mentions another painting with a similar design and she remembers seeing pictures of it in her history books and one topic flows into another and pretty soon they're both having an animated discussion about which artist influenced what genre while they walk around the gallery. Talking to Pete about art and history feels easy and comfortable and she doesn't find herself guarding his every move to ensure that he won't try and press his luck because everything about him screams 'gentleman' and 'trustworthy' and 'honest' and Beth lets herself enjoy the low chatter and relaxed banter that she hadn't had with a man in who knows how long.
Amy comes back, surprised to find her speaking to someone and having a good time after over a year of watching her friend shy away from most contact. Pete takes that as his cue to leave, but before turning to walk away he looks down at the floor, taking a breath before searching for her gaze and asking her if she'd like to get together for a coffee sometime.
"I'm not really looking to date right now," she tries to explain, hoping she doesn't sound too rude and for once not wanting to make him go away immediately. There's something about the kindness in his eyes that tells her not to disregard him so quickly; that there's more to this man than she can currently see. "I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it," he shakes it off, offering her an understand smile and deciding not try and pressure her into agreeing. "I really do wish we could be friends, though. Maybe some other time."
And then he's turning around and walking away and Beth fills up with dread. Because here is this man who is so obviously a great person and all he's doing is asking her out for some coffee and she can't even let herself have that without invoking the memory of her past lover to ruin it. For God's sakes it's been almost two fucking years and she's still letting the asshole that broke her heart dictate her every move and relationship; she's still giving him that power and demonstrating how she's everything he accused her of being.
A stupid little girl living on dead fantasies.
But not anymore.
"Pete!" she calls out, waiting for him to turn around, gathering her wits despite the crowd currently staring at them over her little outburst. "Meet me at Luke's Café on Melrose, tomorrow at noon."
The smile he gives her in return steals her breath away.
Yeah, this was gonna be a good thing.
…
Beth's here.
She's fucking here.
It's been over five fucked up, empty, years without her and now she's back and rationality reminds him it won't last but it's more than he ever though he'd have again.
He'd heard the rumors around work; people gossiping about her being seen driving into town in a Benz with another man. He'd known that the Greenes were planning a big event because the new woman Dale hired to work the garage's front desk would constantly yap about being invited to the ceremony, but he'd never expected Beth to actually show up. This was her first time back since she'd left and Daryl didn't have a clue what he'd find if he even got the chance to see her again.
And then she's there; holding her own and he's never felt more proud of her.
She still looks exactly the way he remembers, but so much better.
She still has her long blonde hair and her thin and feminine shape and her big blue eyes but there's more now. All those parts of her personality that she'd only felt comfortable showing him are out on display for the world to see. She's not hiding behind anyone or anything and the result is magnificent.
Her step is steady and confident and her shoulders are thrown back and her head is held high. She's punching assholes in the face and refusing to back down from anyone, including Rick and himself, and she's asserting herself as an individual in charge of her own life. She's so blatantly beautiful and fierce and strong; just as tough as he always knew she would be.
So much, that when Rick tries to lay down the law and refuses to let her drive home Daryl's almost sure she's gonna punch both of them in the face or kick them in the balls for daring to stand in her way. She is not a person to be messed with anymore, and she'll make damn sure that everyone knows that before she leaves this place again. When Beth finally agrees to let him drive she very calmly informs him that he's going to take her to his house so she can stay in his spare bedroom because she's not going back to the farm yet and anything else is nonnegotiable.
But she won't talk to him.
Beth won't even look at him.
She's sitting beside him and it's clear as day that all the spark he saw back at the bar is evaporating right in front of his eyes, and maybe that's the sign he needed to know that Patricia was right and him and this town would never be any fucking good for her. Not if being here for a few days had her breaking down under the strain and needing to get drunk just to balance herself out. It might have been five years since the last time Daryl saw her but he could still read her as easily as he could track and if there was one thing he was sure of it's that she was having a hard time, even before Len decided to be a motherfucker to her.
'Good,' he tells her when she verifies she's leaving soon, because he'd rather lose her a thousand times and know she's living her life happy somewhere else than have the bright flame she represented in this shitty world blown out. But she misinterprets his meaning, and it's like something vital snaps inside of her.
She turns brutal.
Beth starts going on and on about the man she's with now: how she's happy and he's rich and she's gonna marry him and have his babies and he tries his fucking best to keep his mouth shut and not snap back because if that's what it takes for her to be happy, to get out all the anger she carries around for him, then he'll sit there and listen as she lists and gushes over every quality he lacks and she's found in that other man. He'll do that for her; be the scapegoat that takes every blow until she's too tired to hold onto her bitterness anymore. He won't ruin her family and support system to make himself feel better about the girl the world snatched right out of his hold.
Except, he's too late for that.
"I mean, Patricia told me, you know? How she talked to you and convinced you to let me go. So really, thanks. Maybe when I have my kids I'll tell them all about the kind man who showed their momma the way when she was just a lost and stupid girl who couldn't be trusted to make a choice on her own."
She knows.
She fucking knows everything.
And she's pissed.
He stops the truck once he's outside his home and he hasn't even had the chance to turn off the engine when she's already reaching for the door handle, anxious to get away from him, and before he can think about what he's doing Daryl's grabbing onto her arm and pulling her against him and kissing her is pure need and instinct.
He missed her.
God, he fucking missed her.
Desperately and miserably and aching to have her in his arms just one more time and swearing to every deity known to man that he would never let her go again if he could just have her with him. His world didn't make sense without Beth Greene in it to enlighten it and when she was gone everything had turned dark and void.
But now he was kissing her.
Her mouth is all strawberries and honey and now there's a hint of whiskey from the bottle of Jack she'd been drinking earlier and Daryl's arms wrap themselves around her waist, pulling her body tighter against him as he desperately tries to bottle up her taste and her scent. Her lips are soft and plush underneath his and her tongue is hot and light as it touches his own.
And then it's over.
Her palms are pressing against his shoulders, shoving him away from her at the same time that she slides out of the truck's cab and glares at him defiantly. Daryl sighs, following her lead and stepping around the truck until they're standing right in front of each other. She's watching at him like he's the biggest piece of shit in the world and her arms are crossed over her chest and she looks like she's using all her strength to hold herself together.
He does that to her, breaks her down, even when he doesn't mean to.
"Beth," he tries to speak, but she cuts him off immediate.
"No!" she yells at him, shaking her head and taking another step back. "You don't get to do this. You don't get to just shove your way back into my life and fucking kiss me."
"It ain't like that," he tries to defend himself, and what the hell is he supposed to say? That he did it because he still loves her? Because he'd missed her like crazy and he couldn't believe she was back and because he already knew he was going to lose her again?
She'd slap him and then laugh in his face. He didn't say it to her back when it mattered, and he's definitely not going to try and use that card now that she wants nothing to do with him. He's distracted by movement coming from his right side and a quick glance at the window belonging to the dining room in Carol's house has a flash of blonde hair disappearing from sight, no doubt Lizzie trying to eavesdrop after hearing Beth yelling in the middle of the night. "Let's go inside."
He crosses his porch and opens the door, waiting for her to step through it before closing it behind her. His hand brushes against the back of her arm by accident when he reaches for the light switch and she flinches away from it like he's contagious.
"Don't touch me."
It stings. It fucking hurts to know that this girl who used to relish in his touch and allowed him to explore every inch of her body can't stand to be near him; shrinks away from him and keeps herself guarded like she's expecting to be attacked at any given moment. Pains him to know she'll never smile at him the way she used to when she was eighteen and in love and that there's no else to blame for it but him. He made his bed, and he'd lie in it.
"I wasn't gonna do nothing."
"Yeah," she scoffs, looking around his living room for a moment before returning her accusing eyes to him. "You're real good at that."
Daryl wants to look away from her, but he can't bring himself to stop staring.
The thing is, he knows how much he hurt her. Knows he was harsh and heartless and that she never did a thing to deserve it. All she ever did was love him unconditionally and he'd taken that love and that trust and turned it into something dirty and ugly that broke her heart. No amount of good intentions or apologies would ever change that or earn him her forgiveness so he's not going to ask for something he doesn't deserve.
But that doesn't mean she doesn't deserve his honesty.
Telling her the truth was the least he could do for her.
"I didn't want to hurt you," he murmurs, because that's a fact. He'd done it knowing he would, but there wasn't an ounce of him that wanted to cause her any pain. It'd killed him to do it; killed him to watch her crying over him and begging him to stop and asking him why, but seeing her now, all grown up and strong and independent, he understood that it was worth it. "It was the hardest thing I ever had to do."
Her laugh is loud and sardonic and unnatural. It's a sound that should never come out of someone as sweet and pure as she'd been but it does and it's raw and it oozes onto the floor like a stain being yanked out of her soul. "I'm so sorry that was hard for you," she hisses, nostrils flaring as anger radiates throughout her. "I can't imagine how much it must have cost you to tell me how stupid and idiotic I was to believe we could have a life together."
"You can't," he answers, because that's another fact he won't lie to her about. "Because I wanted that life, too, but I knew we couldn't have it."
Beth starts pacing, moving around the furniture and pulling deep gulps of breath into her lungs with her fingers turned into fist. "You know what I don't understand?" She questions, and then her steps pick up speed and she doesn't stop until she's standing directly in front of him, looking him dead in the eyes as she prepared herself to gauge his credibility.
"How could you have been so cruel?"
Her question is a whisper and he doesn't miss the way her voice breaks at the end or the way her baby blues begin to water when her head leans slightly sideways in confusion.
Why?
Because he didn't want her to leave. Because he would have given everything else up if it meant he got to keep her. Because he knew all the reasons why she had to leave but he was in love and selfish and he wanted her to stay with him anyways. Because he didn't trust himself to talk to her and ask her about what she wanted to do like a reasonable and decent human being would without trying to convince her to give up her dreams for him. Because if he had broken up with her and there'd been even a sliver of a chance that she'd taken him back he would have crawled over to the farm on his hands and knees begging her for forgiveness. Because he was trying to give her a fair shot at getting the fuck out of this town and being the best version of herself she could be.
Because he loved her beyond reason.
"Because you wouldn't have left otherwise."
She pauses, perplexed, as if wondering whether her ears were playing tricks on her or she'd really heard him correctly. And then she steps away, mouth opening and closing a few times before she runs her tongue over her dry lips and drops all pretenses aside.
"Exactly," she agrees, tone flat and even, like she's tired of fighting and just wants to call it quits on the whole conversation. "I would have never let you go. I would have fought with everything I had to stay by your side. I would have been happy living here with you and forming a family and I would have never given that up."
Her words have him frozen in place, limbs out of his control and useless as he watches her grab her keychain from the counter he'd placed them on a few minutes ago and start to head for the door.
"Beth?"
"Goodbye, Daryl."
"You can't go out there," he notes, fingers flexing as the feeling begins to return to his body. It still feels heavy, though, like his blood's been tuned to oil and his bones to lead and maybe this is what she felt as she walked away all those years ago; like the weight of the world was coming down on her and she couldn't move away fast enough to avoid it.
"I can't be here anymore."
"You shouldn't be driving right now," he reminds her, choosing not to tell her she can't because he's pretty sure that would be the worst he could possibly do. She'd probably take it as a challenge and speed all the way home just to stick it to him; a giant, metaphorical, 'Fuck You.'
"Yeah, well," she grunts, not bothering to even look in his direction as she reached for the doorknob and pulls it open. "I don't particularly give a shit what you or anyone else thinks right about now."
And then she's outside and the door slams shut behind her.
…
AN: The ending is a bit abrupt because tonight's episode kicked my butt and stole my happy little writing buzz when I was in the middle of working on this. I hope you like it anyways and that Daryl's actions make a bit more sense. Big thanks to everyone for reviewing the last chapter!
Also, this probably has a couple of grammatical errors. Please excuse them, but my vision is getting blurry from staring at this thing all day and I probably won't catch them until much later. If anyone is interested in being a Beta for me that'd be super helpful. Let me know and I'll get back to you.
Next up: more meddling siblings and special appearances because it's about time we start fixing this mess, right?
Tell me what ya think!
Also, if you want to read something unapologetically fun and fluffy to wash down this angsty-ness, feel free to check out Sunday Mornings. I just posted a new chapter and it's all happiness and Bethyl babies.
-Thus concludes Ashley's super long PSA-