I wasn't sure if I wanted to continue this story, but I decided it had at least two more chapters in it…maybe a happy ending? ;)
As always reviews are love!
She had called Brenda constantly since she left her office yesterday and Sharon was beginning to feel helpless. She knew by the look on the younger woman's face that she had deeply hurt her…she just needed a chance to explain, tell Brenda exactly what she meant. She lifted her cellphone to her face again, cradling it gently against her cheek, the warmth of the screen providing minimal comfort.
Please pick up, she prayed
It had been a while since the older woman had prayed, not that she never had, she had grown up in a Catholic household after all. But this wasn't like the nightly affirmations whispered as she crouched next to her bed as a child or the incessant hymns of her youth in school. The prayers flowing over her lips and through her mind were desperate and haunting; they were words that asked forgiveness, not from some higher power, but from the woman she had fallen for so deeply.
Truth be told, the last twenty-four hours had been agonizing. She sighed and let her head drop to the back of the couch as she heard the flat sound of the answering tone on the other end of the line. With a flick of her wrist Sharon threw the phone at the other end of the couch and watched silently as it slid beneath the pillow.
"Still not answering?"
Rusty's voice from the kitchen was laced with concern and maybe just a little pity.
Sharon wasn't ready to explain whatever this was to her son…especially if she couldn't quite explain it to herself. She couldn't help the sigh that escaped her lips. While Rusty knew there was something going on between her and the former Deputy Chief and that right now things were not going well, he wasn't privy to the reasons for the distance. Nor did she believe he should be.
"No," Sharon rolled her shoulders, "she won't answer until she's ready."
She startled slightly when the teenager plopped down, rather effortlessly, on the cushion next to her. His grin was infectious and she couldn't help the small smile that crept across her lips as he offered her half of the peanut butter and honey sandwich he had made. The older woman watched him fidget out of the corner of her eye; he had immediately picked up on her mood when she had arrived home yesterday.
Always curious he had voiced a few well-placed and well-worded questions, trying to pry out of her more than she was willing to give. She had always stated her personal life was just that, hers. His voice was low as he spoke again and the look in his eyes was sincere.
"I'm sure she will come around…" the boy hesitated, "won't she?"
"I hope so Sweetheart," she leant back on the couch and closed her eyes, "I hope so."
She felt him shift slightly and she imagined him mirroring her position against the cushions. She opened her eyes when she felt the playful nudge to her shoulder as Rusty heaved himself off the couch, walking slowly back to the kitchen, empty plate in hand. It was then that Sharon lifted her weary body off the couch as well and headed down the hallway, calling out a soft 'Good night' to her son.
Sharon was exhausted, but she also knew that sleep would elude her tonight, her emotions and thoughts were too tightly wound, making her unable to mentally relax. No matter how physically drained she seemed to be, there would be no reprieve tonight.
Brenda watched as the screen of her phone lit up for the fourth time, staring silently, as the vibration grew louder and louder. The name on the screen was a familiar one and up until twenty-four hours ago one she was usually excited to see. Just the mere name on the screen would send her heart racing and her blood pumping, but now all she felt was nauseated and the sting of humiliation.
She wiped the trail of tears, a new one with every call, on the sleeve of her grey sweatshirt. She knew that she must look like quite the sight; curled in the end of her couch, colorless toes peeking out from beneath the legs of black yoga pants. Her face she imagined was pale and drawn, make up long gone and her hair in a messy ponytail at the back of her neck. She didn't even have the stomach for a glass of merlot, although she doubted it would have made her feel any better.
She knew in her heart that Sharon was trying, but she couldn't help the pain that flowed from her soul. She was no fool; she knew her past discrepancies were legendary and that at the beginning of their relationship she had treated Sharon horribly. All the names that had been said, all the harsh words exchanged, and all the obscene outbursts. She knew that she had a lot to answer for, but how was she supposed to do that if she was never given the chance.
It hurt that Sharon felt the need to talk to someone other than Brenda about what was between them. Brenda had become very accustomed to her privacy over the years and even the though of Sharon talking to her best friend made her stomach twist in knots. She knew that everyone needed a sounding board, but the hurt was still there, throbbing just below the surface.
Fresh tears pooled in Brenda's eyes as she brought her knees up to her chest, gathering them as close as possible while laying her forehead on her bent knees. It hurt to know that the one thing she wanted, the one person she wanted, seemed to not want her. It hurt to know that even though the Captain did…care for her, that she wouldn't act on those feelings. It hurt to realize that perhaps she had walked in on a discussion between the two friends on how to 'let her down gently.'
She raised her head slightly and looked around the sparsely furnished apartment. In the dim lighting from the lamp to the left of the couch Brenda could see what her life was reduced to. She still had boxes piled all around from her move; she had never gotten around to unpacking them all. She had hoped she could entice Sharon over with an invitation for a calm dinner and maybe she could help the younger woman furnish the apartment. She shook her head as the realization hit her…that wasn't going to happen now.
Overcome by emotion, Brenda let her self gently slide down the sofa until she lay on the red cushions horizontally, the suede material sticking to her wet cheeks. She folded her legs close to her body and rested her folded hands under her head as her eyes gazed into the space before her. Soon her eyes would grow heavy…her body would grow limp from the sheer exhaustion and she would slip into a fitful sleep.