That voice. She knows that voice, inside out, backwards and forwards. The voice of the man she's loved through the happiest and hardest of times.
Even so, Sarah does not acknowledge him much. Memories are painful companions, after all, and the last time they had seen one another had not been under pleasant circumstances.
She will though grant her husband a slight nod and pull her arms tighter around herself. "Alfred..."
He pulls back in on himself without stepping back, wrapping his secret grief around himself like a shield against the coldness he sees coming from her.
Nothing he can say could make it better. He heard what they shouted that night, the words used. And she had always been able to see through him. Even through his greatest trick.
"You..." But he can't bring himself to say it. "You're here."
It isn't coldness. Sarah is self-conscious and guilty and hurt... but it is not in her nature to be cold. The only time she could ever recall being cold toward anyone was with alcohol in her blood, and even then she was not ice.
Another nod. "I am. I don't know where 'here' is... but I'm here."
Small nod. He's still guarded, still cautious. He remembers at least as vividly as she does what happened, even if it's distorted and mirrored.
He isn't sure whether to reach out again or not. Isn't sure whether to ask if she even wants to see him again, or not. Isn't sure what words there are to say.
"I missed you..." It slips out, somehow, soft and raspy.
What does one say to that? What can be said to the man she had loved with all her being, whose children she bore, the man who had only loved her back on certain days, with no way to predict when he would love her and when he could care less if she existed at all? What could be said to the man who she had least seen leaving the house likely to his mistress after telling her he did not love her?
What to say to the man she had so selfishly ended her life over, to the man who had to little sense to know how tormented she was, the man who had too little care to ask, who now claims to have missed her in her absence?
He felt a part of himself break off and crumble when she said it, and thinks incongruously, calmly, that if this keeps happening he won't have much left to lose. He was once a great magician, now he's somewhat less.
But then a part of him grasps onto the desperate idea that maybe now, now that there's no secret to hide or explain at all... maybe she'll stay. And he pulls a hand out of his pocket and holds out his hand to her, wondering at its steadiness when he feels like running, or hiding. Or something very like what he's spent half a lifetime doing, keeping secrets.
Had he honestly doubted her love for him? Was it such a surprise as it seemed, that she was capable of such a thing? She had not hanged herself because she did not love him, after all. If she did not love him, they would never have had a problem. After all, most married couples of the day did not love one another and lived happily enough. But Sarah loved her husband dearly, and even knowing he only returned the affection every so often had been enough for her. Until, that is, she began to question his faithfulness. And even still she had loved him.
In spite of her promised love, Sarah hesitated to take her husband's offered hand. "I... I can't do this again. I couldn't do it before..."
His hand half drops, because he's not sure what that means, because loss is crashing down on him again. There's a gaping hole in him, half of him gone, past recovery, past hope, gone where he can't follow. Gone, as he'd thought she was gone, but now he's back and it gives him all kinds of wild ideas.
"... oh." is all he manages, and yet he can't quite bring himself to shove his hands back in his pockets and resume the aloof persona.
"I'm sorry, Alfred. I just... I can't put myself through that again." She'll try and explain some, worried by the hurt in his posture and voice. "I thought it would be okay. It was okay. I didn't need you to love me every day. As long as you loved me sometimes... that was enough. But not anymore. Not when the days you don't love me outnumber the days you do."
She takes a breath. "I know about Olivia, Alfred. I know she's more to you than an assistant. And you should be with her, if that's what you want. But you can't have both of us anymore."
He almost laughs, because. He can't have a lot of things anymore, and an affair with Olivia is pretty far down on the list of things he wants back. Something like grief-struck madness flickers through his eyes before it's masked again.
And then he wonders. Is a secret really a secret when not only is it not worth anything to anyone outside himselves, or is it really a secret when... it's no longer true.
"Sarah..." But he doesn't know what to say, where to start. He's lived it for so long that he doesn't know how to unravel it outside himself. Himselves.
Sarah has always been observant around her husband. It was once a survival tactic, telling her when he was being truthful with her and when it was only pretend. It had become a deadly skill, in the end, but was useful now. That flash of madness was noticed, and to be honest somewhat frightening.
"Yes, Alfred?" Already she's looking around for a drink to calm her nerves.
"There are things..." he begins, but the words choke up in his throat. He can't do this. He can't even say the right terms, his mouth and mind refuse to acknowledge them as a part of a relevant vocabulary.
"I never meant for this to happen..." His fingers twisted the wedding band around and around on his finger. "And I didn't mean to hurt you like that, Sarah, truly." God, he was so, so sorry for that. For his sake. For all of their sakes. "I didn't want..."
There were no apologies great enough, really.
[ooc: Er. FYI, this is apparently now the somewhat more psychotic, Olivia's!Borden. Fallon may be showing up later. Just in case you hadn't seen. Also I don't think he remembers he's the dead one.]
Sarah hushes him. "It's over. It doesn't matter anymore." She doesn't believe him. His words were aimed to hurt that day. Perhaps not aimed to kill, but certainly aimed to hurt.
"I should go get settled in..." She rubs at the mark on her neck some, absently. "It's been a long day."
Typist: Julia's mun just old me. ^^ Thank you though!
"Do you want..." he reaches towards her, but can't complete the action. She's too closed off, too unwelcoming. He can't bring himself to push. Not with what's between them already.
And he's looking for something, some sign to guide him when he catches sight of what should be a glint in a mirror, and isn't. He knows it isn't.
".. if that's..." He wonders how he's going to save this. Save any of them. And he wonders if he dares hope. "Sarah, I want to ... I want to be as we were. As we used to be."
"Do I want..? What, Alfred? You're acting strange, what is it?" Sarah urges. For all her withdrawn tendencies of late, she still cares for the man. She likely always will.
"I don't know if that's possible, Alfred. Everything was so... perfect then. We were so happy..." She can't help but smile at the memory. How glorious those days had been.
"I don't know." Heaven knows she wants those days back more than anything.
"Sarah?"
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Even so, Sarah does not acknowledge him much. Memories are painful companions, after all, and the last time they had seen one another had not been under pleasant circumstances.
She will though grant her husband a slight nod and pull her arms tighter around herself. "Alfred..."
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Nothing he can say could make it better. He heard what they shouted that night, the words used. And she had always been able to see through him. Even through his greatest trick.
"You..." But he can't bring himself to say it. "You're here."
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Another nod. "I am. I don't know where 'here' is... but I'm here."
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He isn't sure whether to reach out again or not. Isn't sure whether to ask if she even wants to see him again, or not. Isn't sure what words there are to say.
"I missed you..." It slips out, somehow, soft and raspy.
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What to say to the man she had so selfishly ended her life over, to the man who had to little sense to know how tormented she was, the man who had too little care to ask, who now claims to have missed her in her absence?
"I love you."
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He felt a part of himself break off and crumble when she said it, and thinks incongruously, calmly, that if this keeps happening he won't have much left to lose. He was once a great magician, now he's somewhat less.
But then a part of him grasps onto the desperate idea that maybe now, now that there's no secret to hide or explain at all... maybe she'll stay. And he pulls a hand out of his pocket and holds out his hand to her, wondering at its steadiness when he feels like running, or hiding. Or something very like what he's spent half a lifetime doing, keeping secrets.
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In spite of her promised love, Sarah hesitated to take her husband's offered hand. "I... I can't do this again. I couldn't do it before..."
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"... oh." is all he manages, and yet he can't quite bring himself to shove his hands back in his pockets and resume the aloof persona.
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She takes a breath. "I know about Olivia, Alfred. I know she's more to you than an assistant. And you should be with her, if that's what you want. But you can't have both of us anymore."
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And then he wonders. Is a secret really a secret when not only is it not worth anything to anyone outside himselves, or is it really a secret when... it's no longer true.
"Sarah..." But he doesn't know what to say, where to start. He's lived it for so long that he doesn't know how to unravel it outside himself. Himselves.
Himself.
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"Yes, Alfred?" Already she's looking around for a drink to calm her nerves.
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"I never meant for this to happen..." His fingers twisted the wedding band around and around on his finger. "And I didn't mean to hurt you like that, Sarah, truly." God, he was so, so sorry for that. For his sake. For all of their sakes. "I didn't want..."
There were no apologies great enough, really.
[ooc: Er. FYI, this is apparently now the somewhat more psychotic, Olivia's!Borden. Fallon may be showing up later. Just in case you hadn't seen. Also I don't think he remembers he's the dead one.]
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"I should go get settled in..." She rubs at the mark on her neck some, absently. "It's been a long day."
Typist: Julia's mun just old me. ^^ Thank you though!
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And he's looking for something, some sign to guide him when he catches sight of what should be a glint in a mirror, and isn't. He knows it isn't.
".. if that's..." He wonders how he's going to save this. Save any of them. And he wonders if he dares hope. "Sarah, I want to ... I want to be as we were. As we used to be."
God, he wants that more than anything.
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"I don't know if that's possible, Alfred. Everything was so... perfect then. We were so happy..." She can't help but smile at the memory. How glorious those days had been.
"I don't know." Heaven knows she wants those days back more than anything.
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