Author's Note: This piece does not contain erotic scenes. If you are looking for something a bit more carnal, please exit now. Otherwise, read on and please remember to vote! Thanks to everyone who has left comments and sent feedback on my other story! I promise I'll get back to it soon. This one was dying to be let out first!
Thanks,
Script
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Kara stared down at the stone before her, every ridge and mark forever embedded in her memory. She took a deep breath and tried to still her shaking hands. She was cold despite the beautiful summer day.
"I need your help..."
She heard the tremor in her voice and shrank away from her weakness. She squared her shoulders.
"I can't do this anymore. I can't function. Here you are and I can't even breathe, the pain is so much. Do you feel it?"
She felt the tears welling in her eyes once more. How many had she shed? How many little manifestations of her agony had wet the ground here? Had any of them made their way through the cold, hard earth to reach him? Did he know the grief that ate at her soul, even two years after he had left her?
Survivor guilt. That's what all of the so-called experts were telling her, had been telling her. They tried to put a generic label on the void that stood where her life had been, tried to compartmentalize her loss until it fit into tidy little boxes. She was tired of it, more than tired; exhausted.
Some of her friends were concerned that she was tired of living, that she was suicidal, but it was
not
living that had her so weary. Her life had, for all intents and purposes ended with the crash that had ripped him from her arms. It was draining; just moving from one moment to the next, pretending she was alive.
She was like a ghost that didn't know she was dead, haunting the places she had lived her life, going through the motions of living, yet not understanding why it was less than before.
She was ready now, to face what fate had placed before her. She was ready to move from limbo.
She knelt down next to the stone and ran her hand over the soft grass there, a caress, more for her than for him.
"I'm going now."
Her voice fell to a whisper.
"I love you, but I can't do this anymore."
More tears fell and she wiped at them with an impatient hand.
"Goodbye Rick."
She stood and walked away from the cold headstone, trying to hold her head high.
~~~~~~~
William watched her kneeling beside the grave, her voice carrying softly on the wind, the words indiscernible. She stood and walked with dignity and grace towards her car, never noticing that he was there.
He waited until she was gone and walked on shaking legs to read the stone.
Richard Bennett Wallace Beloved Husband Adored Son
Our time was not enough
He shuddered. He had waited a long time to come here, to face the evidence of his memories from that night. Will ran a hand over his face. Dear God, how would she ever understand? Should he just leave her alone with her grief and sorrow? Would he make it worse if he tried to explain? How could he explain what he still didn't understand himself?
He thought of her, tears streaming, her pain still raw and fresh. He didn't want that for her. She was meant to smile.
He still remembered the first time he met her. They had a class together in college. He had bumped into her and knocked her books all over the floor. Awkward and clumsy, he had helped her pick them back up, mumbling apologies the whole time. When he glanced up at her, he was paralyzed by the radiance. Her smile was like the sun.
God, that was so long ago. Did she remember? He wondered. He decided that she probably hadn't thought of happier times for years now.
Tears streaming down his own face, he strode out of the cemetery, unsure and uncaring of his destination.
~~~~~~~~
Over the last few months, Kara had tried returning herself to the world. She went out with friends, laughed at jokes, smiled at the appropriate times, but it was more of an act than her previous apathy was. She didn't feel anything. She was still going through the motions in the hopes that something would jolt her back to life. If she tried hard enough, maybe the laughs would be genuine; the smiles would warm enough to thaw her blood.
She returned to her little apartment and curled into her bed. The pretense of life was exhausting. Breathing was exhausting. She closed her eyes and let the abyss claim her.
"Don't give me that crap!"
Rick shook her. She was frightened and somehow thrilled at the same time. She had never seen this side of him.
Didn't he see that she was trying to save them both? She raised her chin and looked him in the eye, trying not to grab him and kiss him like he was her air.
"What crap? You know as well as I do that this will never work. We're too different, and I'm not the type of woman to be a plaything. I won't be one of a string of conquests."
The anger that darkened his beautiful face was impressive, nothing like the easy going expression he usually wore. It made him look dangerous, sexy. She let her eyes roam over his blond curls and tanned skin until she worked up the courage to meet his gaze. His blue eyes pierced her, leaving her feeling exposed, her every thought laid naked before him.
He pressed her body against the wall, pinning her arms over her head. Kara's heart was pounding rapidly in her chest.
"Do you really think so little of me?"
His voice had taken on an edge to match the cutting blue of his eyes.
Kara's breath was coming in short ragged bursts. Of course she didn't think that, but what if he changed his mind later? What if he left her? Wasn't it better to walk away now, before the hurt would kill her?
Rick read the series of expressions that crossed her face and his anger dissolved. He let go of her arms, sliding his hands down to frame her face, tangling in her hair.
"I'll never leave you Kara, you're my life."
He brought his lips down over hers and Kara's knees gave out. Rick slid an arm around her waist and pressed his weight against her. She let herself go, her arms coming up around his neck. He really meant it. He would never leave her.
Kara sat up in bed, her body still aching, and eyes streaming. She ran a hand over the scars that covered her side. He hadn't been able to keep his promise. He'd left her after all.