This was a challenge issued by Joodiff this morning, as part of a deal for a sequel to He Who Laughs Last because who doesn't want to know what Boyd's revenge will be?! Time to get writing, my dear... :D xx
Triangle
Eve
It's not the most uncomfortable lunch Eve has ever sat though, but it surely ranks high in the single digits of that particular list. How and why the three of them ended up here together is rather obscure and confusing, and she doesn't want to waste time dwelling on it. Instead she sips her drink and keeps a wary eye on her companions, one of whom she cares for a great deal, and the other she's rather indifferent to.
Her salad is appetising, the lettuce fresh and crunchy, the dressing just tangy enough to please her taste buds and to set off a nice contrast to the peppery grilled chicken sprinkled liberally atop the leaves. Sadly though, it's not the food that is holding her interest, but rather the tense, uncomfortable atmosphere created by the silent, unspoken clash of the two women sitting across from her.
Grace
It hurts.
More than she would ever care to admit, but it does. And the worst of it is, this is all her own fault. She couldn't rein in her temper when it really mattered. She couldn't just let it all go and hold onto her sanity and her serenity. So she lied to him in her sudden rage and loss of control.
You are unloved.
He's anything but. Only he doesn't know it, because she has never told him. Could never tell him.
She lied, and now she's suffering for it.
And if she ever thought that the pain of just existing for all those years was bad, well, now she knows it was nothing. Not compared to this.
Sarah
They regard her with veiled hostility. Carefully hidden, but still there. She can feel it with ease.
One is hostile because she is loyal and caring, and a good friend. The other because… if Sarah is not very much mistaken, she wants what she can't have. Because she views Sarah as an intruder. A threat.
Not that she'll ever say it. Or acknowledge it.
The food here is atrocious – the British never seem to have mastered the culinary arts, and she dwells on it every time she visits, longing for the familiar cuisine of home.
She would rather be anywhere but here, and for a moment she curses her lover for leaving her like this, but then remembers it was hardly his fault.
Perhaps, she muses, she can persuade him to make it up to her.
It shouldn't be too hard; he is a man, after all.
Eve
Their guest looks bored, and that is… irritating. So far she's shown little sign of wanting to converse. The painful pleasantries have been just that. Painful, and the bare minimum of pleasant.
It's not for lack of trying, either, and Eve can't fault Grace for her manners. For her attempts to draw them both into conversation, despite how much distress is not-so-well hidden in the back of her blue eyes.
Eve tries a different track, raises the topic of travel. It has to be a safe one, she's sure. Worldly experiences are something all three of them can share.
Until Sarah brings up the journey between New York and London, and how frustrating it was to wait an extra half an hour before take-off, to be delayed for an important… meeting.
Grace
It's surreal.
That's the only way she can think of describing this meal.
Grace watches and listens, and contributes where necessary, and all the while she wonders what would have happened if she had held her tongue.
His attention would have strayed to Sarah anyway, she's sure. Whether he would have acted on it, she doesn't know, but he's a man and he likes the ladies.
Is flattered by their attention.
Still, she wonders what would happen if she told him. If she held out her hand and said she could help him with all the things that hurt him.
If she asked him to trust her with his heart.
If he gave her a chance to love him from somewhere other than afar.
Sarah
The other woman.
That's who she's sitting staring at. Grace will always be the other woman. Sarah knows it. Resents it. Hates it.
Because Grace will always be the one. The woman her man obsesses over in quiet moments. When he's unoccupied and his minds drifts away, it will always go to Grace. And for that, Sarah despises her.
She is his girlfriend. She is the one he kisses and makes love to, and spends his free time with. She is younger and prettier and far more interesting. She has a lifetime of experiences and a wealth of knowledge about the world to share with him.
But at the end of the day, she is not the one he wants. It's her.
Always her.
And she hates it.
Eve
She's a diversion. It's obvious.
Boyd will never settle with her, because she's not what he wants. Eve has seen it before, several times. He chases women because he's a man, and because he's running from frustration and pain and the unresolved.
He's chasing her because he's hurt, and she was – is – there. Boyd can't see it, and Grace can't see it, but Eve can. And, as she watches the other woman, Eve wonders if maybe Sarah can, too.
She's a diversion. Something – someone – to fill a gap, a hole. An attempt to scab over wounds that are far deeper than a casual fling will ever heal.
It's incredibly sad, but so is the drama she's been watching for the last year or so.
Grace
It doesn't get any easier. In fact, with each new woman, each new attempt to find himself a partner, it only gets harder. More painful.
She's a foolish old woman who is deeply in love with a man too beautiful and too complicated to ever be remotely interested in someone as plain and boring as she believes she is.
It's agonising at the best of times.
This is not the best of times, and Grace cannot help the churning resentment inside her that is continuing to build and build as the meal drags on. The thought of this woman, slick with heat and sweat, wound around Boyd as they were reunited only two nights ago…
Politely excusing herself, she gets up and moves to the rear of the restaurant where the toilets are located, leans heavily against the sink and closes her eyes in defeat.
Sarah
The older woman is just that. Older.
Except… she's not, and Sarah knows it. She's so, so much more.
She wishes it were easy to dismiss her, to banish the idea that Peter might ever be interested in her, but it isn't.
Grace is attractive, quirky. Fiercely intelligent, professionally very successful, and in possession of a wicked sense of humour. And somehow she seems to understand all the facets and flaws of his character with an effortlessness that Sarah thinks she'll never attain.
Peter is handsome, he's fascinating. He's intelligent, dedicated, great in bed. Loyal, amusing, and someone she could honestly spend the rest of her life with.
He cares about her, too, and she knows it.
He just doesn't care enough.
He doesn't care as much as she does.
Watching the older woman walk away from the table, she's sure that's because of Grace.
Eve
It's visible in the American's face, now. That dawning look of understanding.
She can read Grace's pain, and if Sarah is half as astute as Eve thinks she is, she will understand the way things are with Boyd. The way he works. Is. Thinks. Feels.
It's also possible, supposes Eve, that the other woman just isn't as ready to move on from the loss of her husband as she thought she was before all of this started.
There's a hint of regret in those brown eyes, and Eve is beginning to suspect that Sarah knows her days are numbered, because she herself is still bleeding inside and therefore cannot give him everything he needs.
Losing a partner is… devastating. In so many ways.
Eve knows. And she knows just how many barriers there are to moving on.
And she can see that some of them are still yet to fall with Sarah.
Grace
The waiter clears their plates, offers desert, and even though she is desperate to leave, she agrees. A sweet treat will ease the pain a little, maybe.
Temporarily.
Sarah will be good for him. She's feisty, she'll be a challenge. She won't let him walk all over her.
She will offer him some of the things he needs, and that can only be a good thing.
She could even offer him another child, if that's what he – they – want.
It's good for him, and she knows it. He needs the opportunities, the chance to restore his wounded heart.
And so she will just fade away and let him be.
Sarah
His heart isn't in it.
She knows that now. She's known it all along, she thinks, but today she's realised why.
He doesn't know why, or maybe won't question why, but that doesn't make it any less true.
She thinks that when she gets back on that plane in three days' time it will be the last time she ever sees him.
They will call, share a few words. She may even tell him that she loves him, just to see what his reaction is, but it will end.
He will blame work, tell her he's too busy and that cases just get in the way, and she will agree with him and understand, because it will be true, to an extent.
He could find the time, if he really wanted, but his heart isn't in it.
And now she knows why.