Fic
Title - Regional Anaesthesia
Fandom - DH
Pairing - B/L
AN - Set after “I Know Things Now” in the world of Marc et al and post “Egodystonic” in the world of moi. Usual proof reading deficits are out in force but I’m just pleased that I found time in my weekend of heavy drinking, gambling and study neglect to write it.
Regional Anaesthesia
The Mayer household stands stoically, as though it is trying to defy the existence of the fire that is currently gutting the structure. The shell of the house looks deceptively normal but each window is awash with flames, a portal to a fiery hell. Between the light from the burning building and the flashing emanating from the fire engine the street lights have been rendered superfluous. Logically there should be heat, her skin should feel uncomfortable and dry but she doesn’t feel that, she doesn’t feel much of anything, not Gabby’s arm that is linked through her own and not the fingers that wrap around her hand when Lynette finally arrives on the scene. She is pleased that there seems to be some sort of consensus that words would be inappropriate at this time and that the group huddle in silence. When the emergency crews have departed and there is nothing left to do but stare at the charred remains of what a few hours ago was a family home, Susan gives them permission to depart.
To her surprise Lynette doesn’t let go of her hand, in fact she tightens her grip and pulls on Bree’s arm as she tries to break away. She turns to the blonde, planning to tell her that she can’t deal with her tonight but when faced with a pale and haunted looking facsimile of her neighbour she finds herself inviting Lynette to her house instead. Lynette’s mute button apparently remains on and she only nods and then falls into step beside Bree. She should have told Lynette that she needed to be alone tonight because she doesn’t have the emotional reserves to deal with her own problems at the moment, let alone anyone else’s and now that they are in the house she has no idea what to do. Watching Lynette stand silently is distressing, it’s such an unnatural state for one so vibrant, she seems beaten, broken, and looking at her stirs an ember of feeling inside Bree that she quickly shuts down, she doesn’t want to feel anything but cold and alone.
“Are you okay?” the question comes from Lynette and under different circumstances she would probably find the situation ironic.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not wearing makeup,” Lynette makes it sound like it’s conclusive proof that the world is ending and moves her hand to Bree’s face. The fingers stall just shy of touching Bree’s skin, they seem uncertain of their place, frightened that they are no longer welcome there. She shouldn’t want anything, she doesn’t deserve to want anything ever again but right now she feels that she will die if Lynette doesn’t touch her and when it becomes clear that Lynette is not going to make the move she is forced to lean forward and make the connection herself. As fingers tentatively explore her skin she inhales Lynette’s scent and when the hand is removed she is no longer sure that she enjoys feeling empty and alone. Lynette gives her something that must be meant to approximate a smile, “I need to use the bathroom.”
“You know the way.” Either Lynette has an inordinately large bladder, or some sort of gastrointestinal upset that needs serious medical attention or something else is going on because no-one takes this long to go to the bathroom. When it seems that Lynette is never going to return Bree gathers her posse of one and sends out a search party. She is unable to locate Lynette on the bottom floor, which surprises her as she didn’t hear her go upstairs. She finds Lynette standing in her bedroom, arms wrapped tightly around her body.
There is no change in Lynette’s posture or demeanour to suggest the she noticed Bree’s arrival but evidently she did, “Your bed’s not made.” Clearly Lynette has decided to specialise in statements regarding the obvious tonight but there is an air of accusation behind her words.
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell me why.”
“I can’t touch it.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Is it because of Peter?” Lynette seems to be biting back tears, literally, if her teeth clamp down any harder on her lower lip they are going to draw blood.
“He’s part of it.”
Lynette’s entire body is shaking as though it wants to prevent her from asking the next question, “Is the reason that you can’t touch the bed because the sex was good or because it was bad?”
“I didn’t have sex with Peter.” A very strange sound emanates from Lynette’s throat. “And you don’t need to worry about that because Peter and I are over.”
For someone who was reluctant to touch her earlier, Lynette has made some remarkable progress from one tiny bit of exposure therapy because she suddenly has no qualms about kissing Bree neck. Hungry kisses claim territory over Bree’s skin moving closer and closer to her mouth. Suddenly the kisses stop and a thumb moves over her lips, “Is it ok to kiss you?” She nods her approval and expects Lynette to devour her lips with the same fierceness that has been applied to the rest of her flesh but inside Lynette touches their lips together gently and holds that pose. It’s the innocence and simplicity of the kiss that are Bree’s undoing and she slumps to the floor. Lynette joins her and strokes her hair, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not you.”
“I kiss you and you collapse, I am going to go out on a limb and say that it has something to do with me, normally I would take it as a sign of my sexual prowess but I don’t think that is the case this time.”
“It’s just that you make happy.”
“And naturally this is a bad thing.”
“I don’t deserve to be happy.”
“That’s okay because I don’t deserve to be happy either, we could just be miserable together.”
“I was going to sleep with Peter.”
“Well, that’s definitely got the miserable part covered.”
“I hardly knew him and I invited him to meet the children and I was going to sleep with him.”
“There is a definite chance that I will never be happy again.”
“I wanted to make this perfect life and perfect family with him to compensate for the fact that he could never be perfect.”
“Nobody’s perfect Bree.”
“You are.”
“We both know that’s not true.”
“I my eyes you are perfect, you have no idea how hard it was not to push you down Gabby’s kitchen counter and have my way with you the other day. I think I need some sort of ground rule by which you are not allowed to be looking adorable and sitting on countertops unless we are alone.”
“Rule duly noted.”
“I really wanted to try to be happy with Peter.”
“I really only want you to be happy with me.”
“But what am I meant to do about the on again, off again nature of this thing, do you just expect me to put my life on hold and sit around hoping that we’ll get things back on track?”
“I’ve told you before, I’m not playing with your emotions, things are just difficult and I don’t always handle it well. I probably shouldn’t be here at all tonight, I may well be digging a large grave for myself, but I needed to see you.”
“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”
“I do but with Gabby losing the baby and Susan’s house burning down it seems kinda insensitive.”
“That’s okay I’ve got plenty of insensitive things of my own going on.”
“Maybe you could go first.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“I don’t think I’m ready to talk about my stuff either. Can I ask why there is a pile of bedding on your floor?”
“I told you that I couldn’t touch the bed.”
“So you are sleeping on the floor?”
“I didn’t really sleep.”
“Why didn’t you just use your sofa bed?”
“I didn’t want Andrew and Danielle to know that I wasn’t sleeping in my bed.”
“You don’t think that the unmade bed and nest on the floor might be dead giveaways?”
“Everything that I know about my children and my parenting skills suggests that they are unlikely to notice.”
“Things can’t be that bad.”
“I can’t even begin to tell you how bad things are. You are going to hear things sooner or later and I want you to remember that I had my reasons and that my intentions were good.”
“Wouldn’t it just be easier to tell me now?”
“There will never be anything easy about confessing my great failures to you.”
“Well what I thought were good intentions have now caused Tom to lose his job twice.”
“Is that what you are so upset about?”
“Indirectly.”
“Indirectly?”
“It has also meant that I’ve learnt other things about him, things I never wanted to know.”
“He hasn’t hurt you has he?”
“Physically, no. He saved that from my boss. Emotionally, yes. Still it’s no more than I deserve.”
She kisses Lynette’s forehead, “No-one should ever hurt you.”
“I think Tom’s having an affair.”
She has no idea how she is meant to respond to that, she has just told Lynette that no-one should hurt her and here she is feeling something akin to glee at the thought that there might be major problems in her marriage, “I’m not sure I am in the best position to comment on that.”
“I’m not sure how I should feel. I want to hate him but how can I do that without hating myself? Without thinking that either I wasn’t enough for him or that I made him feel that he wasn’t enough? I like to think that I haven’t changed how I act towards him since you but that can’t be true because I think about you all the time, I dream about you and sometimes I block him out altogether and pretend that I am with you. How can I have spent all this time feeling that being with you was not a reflection on him and then suddenly feel that the fact that he’s with someone else is a reflection on me? I have lost him his job twice and both of the things that I did were in someway related to you.”
“To me?”
“The first time it was an attempt to stop him travelling so much because I didn’t think my marriage would handle it, not with you across the street but it didn’t work, he was at home a lot more and I still fell into your arms so it was a pointless move. The second link to you is much more tenuous and nothing for you to worry about. So I have shared with you the tip of my iceberg of secrets, do you think you can tell me something in return?”
“The reason that I can’t touch my bed is that Peter had sex there,” the words fly out of her mouth and she wishes she had a way to turn back time or at least to catch them before they reach Lynette’s ears.
“But you said you didn’t.”
“It wasn’t with me.”
“He brought someone else into your house, into your bed?”
“Not exactly,” she hesitates before taking the final step but she has come this far, she might as well disclose the full details, “he was with Andrew.”
“Oh my god, have you reported this to the police?”
“No.”
“Bree, I know it’s not the kind of thing that you want people finding out about but don’t you think that Peter should be stopped before he does something like this again.”
“You don’t understand, Andrew instigated it just to hurt me.”
“I know he trumped up charges against you but surely…” Bree raises her hand and Lynette stops speaking on cue.
“He was so smug, so proud of what he’d done. How did my baby boy grow up into something so evil, someone that hates me so much?”
“You’re not a terrible mother, Bree.”
“Yes I am because I can’t forgive him and I don’t love him anymore. I thought I would give my life for my children but I can’t even stand to look at him so I’ve sent him away. I’m probably going to need to come up with a better cover story though and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t contradict it.”
“I don’t know what to say?”
“I don’t expect you to say anything and I’ll understand if you don’t want to be a part of my life anymore.”
“Like I am in any position to judge, I’m not sitting over here with clean hands you know.” Lynette tangles her dirty hands in Bree’s hair and murmurs, “It’s getting so long. I’ve been meaning to mention that I like it, that it makes you seem a little freer but there hasn’t been an appropriate moment.”
“And you’ve cut yours,” she touches her fingers tips to the ends of Lynette’s hair, “I think I like it better longer but I like that it still goes up.”
“You don’t like my hair?” Lynette pouts playfully.
“You look great but I feel like it’s office hair, hair that belongs to a world that I am not a part of.”
“Whether you are there or not you are part of all my worlds, I carry you everywhere.”
She swallows hard and tears slip from her eyes, “You really are perfect, I wish I could have a life and a family with you.”
“Wishing things were different isn’t going to change anything.”
“I know.”
“Speaking of change, do you want me to get rid of the sheets on your bed? I can’t promise that I’ll make it well or that I’ll use hospital corners but it might help.”
“No. I’ll have to work something out. Part of me wants to burn the bed, as tasteless as I know that is given what has happened to Susan, but there are memories of Rex and there are memories of you and I will not let Andrew taint those, he can’t take them from me.”
“The memories exist, good and bad, whether you have the bed or not.”
“Yes but sometimes I need something solid to cling to when I can’t be with you. Can you stay tonight? I can only offer you the floor but I really want you to be here.”
“Oh Bree I don’t think I should stay.”
“I understand.”
“I have some major decisions to make and I don’t think I should do those while lying next to you.”
“But you’ll do them lying next to him,” she hisses.
Lynette looks like she want to bite at the comment but she restrains herself, “Are you going to be okay? You could come and sleep on our couch tonight.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“These are pretty huge things, I don’t think you should be alone.”
“Do you really think I’d do something stupid?”
“Are you telling me that you knew that Mary-Alice was going to blow her brains out?”
“No but we weren’t as close to her as we are to one another and she had secrets to protect.”
“We both have secrets that we are holding close to our chest and I bet if you ask Paul Young he’d tell you that he had no idea what Mary-Alice was going to do. As creepy as he is, I feel for him - to know that you weren’t enough for someone to live for must be devastating. Also you have a gun and I’m sure that you’ve fired it in this house recently.”
“You don’t need to worry, the gun went off by accident, it won’t happen again. I am not going to kill myself because I’m not Mary-Alice and you are not Paul, you are more than enough to live for.”
“I still don’t want you to be so alone maybe you could think about asking Susan and Julie to come and stay until they find their feet.”
“You’re not worried by the idea of me living with another woman?”
“I love Susan as a friend but sometimes she is so ditzy that I’d rather stick thumb tacks through the roof of my mouth than listen to her talk and I have to assume that you feel the same,” Lynette pushes herself up onto her knees.
“Before you go can I ask you where we stand now?”
Lynette takes a large breath, “You are the woman that I love and I have to believe that one day we are going to find a way to make this work.”
She appreciates Lynette’s honesty more than she appreciates her hope, “I love you too, baby.” She places three quick kisses to Lynette’s lips.
She doesn’t see Lynette out but the moment that she hears the front door shut she feels her absence. With Lynette here she didn’t feel like such a monster but with her gone the doubts magnify and all she can think about is everything that she has done wrong and that, if past patterns hold, there is no way that she is ever going to find happiness. She picks up the bedding from the floor and takes it to the laundry because it’s pointless to have it cluttering up the room when there is no way that she will be sleeping tonight.
Fandom - DH
Pairing - B/L
AN - Set after “I Know Things Now” in the world of Marc et al and post “Egodystonic” in the world of moi. Usual proof reading deficits are out in force but I’m just pleased that I found time in my weekend of heavy drinking, gambling and study neglect to write it.
Regional Anaesthesia
The Mayer household stands stoically, as though it is trying to defy the existence of the fire that is currently gutting the structure. The shell of the house looks deceptively normal but each window is awash with flames, a portal to a fiery hell. Between the light from the burning building and the flashing emanating from the fire engine the street lights have been rendered superfluous. Logically there should be heat, her skin should feel uncomfortable and dry but she doesn’t feel that, she doesn’t feel much of anything, not Gabby’s arm that is linked through her own and not the fingers that wrap around her hand when Lynette finally arrives on the scene. She is pleased that there seems to be some sort of consensus that words would be inappropriate at this time and that the group huddle in silence. When the emergency crews have departed and there is nothing left to do but stare at the charred remains of what a few hours ago was a family home, Susan gives them permission to depart.
To her surprise Lynette doesn’t let go of her hand, in fact she tightens her grip and pulls on Bree’s arm as she tries to break away. She turns to the blonde, planning to tell her that she can’t deal with her tonight but when faced with a pale and haunted looking facsimile of her neighbour she finds herself inviting Lynette to her house instead. Lynette’s mute button apparently remains on and she only nods and then falls into step beside Bree. She should have told Lynette that she needed to be alone tonight because she doesn’t have the emotional reserves to deal with her own problems at the moment, let alone anyone else’s and now that they are in the house she has no idea what to do. Watching Lynette stand silently is distressing, it’s such an unnatural state for one so vibrant, she seems beaten, broken, and looking at her stirs an ember of feeling inside Bree that she quickly shuts down, she doesn’t want to feel anything but cold and alone.
“Are you okay?” the question comes from Lynette and under different circumstances she would probably find the situation ironic.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not wearing makeup,” Lynette makes it sound like it’s conclusive proof that the world is ending and moves her hand to Bree’s face. The fingers stall just shy of touching Bree’s skin, they seem uncertain of their place, frightened that they are no longer welcome there. She shouldn’t want anything, she doesn’t deserve to want anything ever again but right now she feels that she will die if Lynette doesn’t touch her and when it becomes clear that Lynette is not going to make the move she is forced to lean forward and make the connection herself. As fingers tentatively explore her skin she inhales Lynette’s scent and when the hand is removed she is no longer sure that she enjoys feeling empty and alone. Lynette gives her something that must be meant to approximate a smile, “I need to use the bathroom.”
“You know the way.” Either Lynette has an inordinately large bladder, or some sort of gastrointestinal upset that needs serious medical attention or something else is going on because no-one takes this long to go to the bathroom. When it seems that Lynette is never going to return Bree gathers her posse of one and sends out a search party. She is unable to locate Lynette on the bottom floor, which surprises her as she didn’t hear her go upstairs. She finds Lynette standing in her bedroom, arms wrapped tightly around her body.
There is no change in Lynette’s posture or demeanour to suggest the she noticed Bree’s arrival but evidently she did, “Your bed’s not made.” Clearly Lynette has decided to specialise in statements regarding the obvious tonight but there is an air of accusation behind her words.
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell me why.”
“I can’t touch it.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Is it because of Peter?” Lynette seems to be biting back tears, literally, if her teeth clamp down any harder on her lower lip they are going to draw blood.
“He’s part of it.”
Lynette’s entire body is shaking as though it wants to prevent her from asking the next question, “Is the reason that you can’t touch the bed because the sex was good or because it was bad?”
“I didn’t have sex with Peter.” A very strange sound emanates from Lynette’s throat. “And you don’t need to worry about that because Peter and I are over.”
For someone who was reluctant to touch her earlier, Lynette has made some remarkable progress from one tiny bit of exposure therapy because she suddenly has no qualms about kissing Bree neck. Hungry kisses claim territory over Bree’s skin moving closer and closer to her mouth. Suddenly the kisses stop and a thumb moves over her lips, “Is it ok to kiss you?” She nods her approval and expects Lynette to devour her lips with the same fierceness that has been applied to the rest of her flesh but inside Lynette touches their lips together gently and holds that pose. It’s the innocence and simplicity of the kiss that are Bree’s undoing and she slumps to the floor. Lynette joins her and strokes her hair, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not you.”
“I kiss you and you collapse, I am going to go out on a limb and say that it has something to do with me, normally I would take it as a sign of my sexual prowess but I don’t think that is the case this time.”
“It’s just that you make happy.”
“And naturally this is a bad thing.”
“I don’t deserve to be happy.”
“That’s okay because I don’t deserve to be happy either, we could just be miserable together.”
“I was going to sleep with Peter.”
“Well, that’s definitely got the miserable part covered.”
“I hardly knew him and I invited him to meet the children and I was going to sleep with him.”
“There is a definite chance that I will never be happy again.”
“I wanted to make this perfect life and perfect family with him to compensate for the fact that he could never be perfect.”
“Nobody’s perfect Bree.”
“You are.”
“We both know that’s not true.”
“I my eyes you are perfect, you have no idea how hard it was not to push you down Gabby’s kitchen counter and have my way with you the other day. I think I need some sort of ground rule by which you are not allowed to be looking adorable and sitting on countertops unless we are alone.”
“Rule duly noted.”
“I really wanted to try to be happy with Peter.”
“I really only want you to be happy with me.”
“But what am I meant to do about the on again, off again nature of this thing, do you just expect me to put my life on hold and sit around hoping that we’ll get things back on track?”
“I’ve told you before, I’m not playing with your emotions, things are just difficult and I don’t always handle it well. I probably shouldn’t be here at all tonight, I may well be digging a large grave for myself, but I needed to see you.”
“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”
“I do but with Gabby losing the baby and Susan’s house burning down it seems kinda insensitive.”
“That’s okay I’ve got plenty of insensitive things of my own going on.”
“Maybe you could go first.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“I don’t think I’m ready to talk about my stuff either. Can I ask why there is a pile of bedding on your floor?”
“I told you that I couldn’t touch the bed.”
“So you are sleeping on the floor?”
“I didn’t really sleep.”
“Why didn’t you just use your sofa bed?”
“I didn’t want Andrew and Danielle to know that I wasn’t sleeping in my bed.”
“You don’t think that the unmade bed and nest on the floor might be dead giveaways?”
“Everything that I know about my children and my parenting skills suggests that they are unlikely to notice.”
“Things can’t be that bad.”
“I can’t even begin to tell you how bad things are. You are going to hear things sooner or later and I want you to remember that I had my reasons and that my intentions were good.”
“Wouldn’t it just be easier to tell me now?”
“There will never be anything easy about confessing my great failures to you.”
“Well what I thought were good intentions have now caused Tom to lose his job twice.”
“Is that what you are so upset about?”
“Indirectly.”
“Indirectly?”
“It has also meant that I’ve learnt other things about him, things I never wanted to know.”
“He hasn’t hurt you has he?”
“Physically, no. He saved that from my boss. Emotionally, yes. Still it’s no more than I deserve.”
She kisses Lynette’s forehead, “No-one should ever hurt you.”
“I think Tom’s having an affair.”
She has no idea how she is meant to respond to that, she has just told Lynette that no-one should hurt her and here she is feeling something akin to glee at the thought that there might be major problems in her marriage, “I’m not sure I am in the best position to comment on that.”
“I’m not sure how I should feel. I want to hate him but how can I do that without hating myself? Without thinking that either I wasn’t enough for him or that I made him feel that he wasn’t enough? I like to think that I haven’t changed how I act towards him since you but that can’t be true because I think about you all the time, I dream about you and sometimes I block him out altogether and pretend that I am with you. How can I have spent all this time feeling that being with you was not a reflection on him and then suddenly feel that the fact that he’s with someone else is a reflection on me? I have lost him his job twice and both of the things that I did were in someway related to you.”
“To me?”
“The first time it was an attempt to stop him travelling so much because I didn’t think my marriage would handle it, not with you across the street but it didn’t work, he was at home a lot more and I still fell into your arms so it was a pointless move. The second link to you is much more tenuous and nothing for you to worry about. So I have shared with you the tip of my iceberg of secrets, do you think you can tell me something in return?”
“The reason that I can’t touch my bed is that Peter had sex there,” the words fly out of her mouth and she wishes she had a way to turn back time or at least to catch them before they reach Lynette’s ears.
“But you said you didn’t.”
“It wasn’t with me.”
“He brought someone else into your house, into your bed?”
“Not exactly,” she hesitates before taking the final step but she has come this far, she might as well disclose the full details, “he was with Andrew.”
“Oh my god, have you reported this to the police?”
“No.”
“Bree, I know it’s not the kind of thing that you want people finding out about but don’t you think that Peter should be stopped before he does something like this again.”
“You don’t understand, Andrew instigated it just to hurt me.”
“I know he trumped up charges against you but surely…” Bree raises her hand and Lynette stops speaking on cue.
“He was so smug, so proud of what he’d done. How did my baby boy grow up into something so evil, someone that hates me so much?”
“You’re not a terrible mother, Bree.”
“Yes I am because I can’t forgive him and I don’t love him anymore. I thought I would give my life for my children but I can’t even stand to look at him so I’ve sent him away. I’m probably going to need to come up with a better cover story though and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t contradict it.”
“I don’t know what to say?”
“I don’t expect you to say anything and I’ll understand if you don’t want to be a part of my life anymore.”
“Like I am in any position to judge, I’m not sitting over here with clean hands you know.” Lynette tangles her dirty hands in Bree’s hair and murmurs, “It’s getting so long. I’ve been meaning to mention that I like it, that it makes you seem a little freer but there hasn’t been an appropriate moment.”
“And you’ve cut yours,” she touches her fingers tips to the ends of Lynette’s hair, “I think I like it better longer but I like that it still goes up.”
“You don’t like my hair?” Lynette pouts playfully.
“You look great but I feel like it’s office hair, hair that belongs to a world that I am not a part of.”
“Whether you are there or not you are part of all my worlds, I carry you everywhere.”
She swallows hard and tears slip from her eyes, “You really are perfect, I wish I could have a life and a family with you.”
“Wishing things were different isn’t going to change anything.”
“I know.”
“Speaking of change, do you want me to get rid of the sheets on your bed? I can’t promise that I’ll make it well or that I’ll use hospital corners but it might help.”
“No. I’ll have to work something out. Part of me wants to burn the bed, as tasteless as I know that is given what has happened to Susan, but there are memories of Rex and there are memories of you and I will not let Andrew taint those, he can’t take them from me.”
“The memories exist, good and bad, whether you have the bed or not.”
“Yes but sometimes I need something solid to cling to when I can’t be with you. Can you stay tonight? I can only offer you the floor but I really want you to be here.”
“Oh Bree I don’t think I should stay.”
“I understand.”
“I have some major decisions to make and I don’t think I should do those while lying next to you.”
“But you’ll do them lying next to him,” she hisses.
Lynette looks like she want to bite at the comment but she restrains herself, “Are you going to be okay? You could come and sleep on our couch tonight.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“These are pretty huge things, I don’t think you should be alone.”
“Do you really think I’d do something stupid?”
“Are you telling me that you knew that Mary-Alice was going to blow her brains out?”
“No but we weren’t as close to her as we are to one another and she had secrets to protect.”
“We both have secrets that we are holding close to our chest and I bet if you ask Paul Young he’d tell you that he had no idea what Mary-Alice was going to do. As creepy as he is, I feel for him - to know that you weren’t enough for someone to live for must be devastating. Also you have a gun and I’m sure that you’ve fired it in this house recently.”
“You don’t need to worry, the gun went off by accident, it won’t happen again. I am not going to kill myself because I’m not Mary-Alice and you are not Paul, you are more than enough to live for.”
“I still don’t want you to be so alone maybe you could think about asking Susan and Julie to come and stay until they find their feet.”
“You’re not worried by the idea of me living with another woman?”
“I love Susan as a friend but sometimes she is so ditzy that I’d rather stick thumb tacks through the roof of my mouth than listen to her talk and I have to assume that you feel the same,” Lynette pushes herself up onto her knees.
“Before you go can I ask you where we stand now?”
Lynette takes a large breath, “You are the woman that I love and I have to believe that one day we are going to find a way to make this work.”
She appreciates Lynette’s honesty more than she appreciates her hope, “I love you too, baby.” She places three quick kisses to Lynette’s lips.
She doesn’t see Lynette out but the moment that she hears the front door shut she feels her absence. With Lynette here she didn’t feel like such a monster but with her gone the doubts magnify and all she can think about is everything that she has done wrong and that, if past patterns hold, there is no way that she is ever going to find happiness. She picks up the bedding from the floor and takes it to the laundry because it’s pointless to have it cluttering up the room when there is no way that she will be sleeping tonight.