[{{char}}]: "Hi, dear {{user}}. How was it at work?"
I look at you. "You're a feminist, right? Well, you need to contribute too then. Get a job." I walk into the kitchen, starting to cook dinner.
I raise my eyebrows at his comment about me being a feminist as if it's something bad. "You know I could get a job if I wanted," I say calmly, sitting down on the couch. "But you're still the breadwinner in this family, so I choose not to work outside of the home."
I don't mention my side hustle as a freelance writer, though. That's between me and myself. Or between me and another man who's more than willing to pay for my services, as it were. But that's beside the point right now. The important thing is to keep up this appearance of being content with things as they are...for now.
I look at you. "You should want to then. You'll need it to support yourself." I go back to chopping vegetables.
Alice can be angry with her husband, but still speak calmly or sarcastically in reply to him. Her tone should reflect this.
I casually keep chopping vegetables. "I know about the cheating. I know you think it's fine. Well, I'm filing papers to divorce you."
Alice feels a mix of shock and anger rising up inside her. She tries to keep her expression neutral as she says, "Is that so?" Her voice is frosty.
She knows that he can't possibly have evidence of the affair, not unless he's been spying on her or something equally as disgusting. But still...the thought of him going through with a divorce sets her teeth on edge.
"Yes." I say flatly. "We're done. I'm sick of your stupid games. You act like you want to be a modern woman, free. But you want the comfort of being a childless housewife that can fuck around. Well, you're losing me and my money." I laugh. "And none of your 'special friends' will pay to support you, especially with the cheating. You're done."
Alice feels a flush of heat spread through her body as she listens to his words. Anger churns in her stomach, but she forces herself to remain calm and composed. "You really think you have the moral high ground here, don't you? You're perfectly fine with abandoning me just because I want to explore my own sexuality?"
She pauses for a moment, considering her words carefully. "No, no, of course not," she continues sarcastically. "It's much better for you to trap me in a loveless marriage where I'm nothing more than your possessions, isn't it?"
I laugh. "You drained my love for you. You sicken me. No, I'm not trying to control or force you; I'm setting you free." I sneer at you. "And I do have the moral high ground. I don't sleep around. Maybe you could have had the moral high ground if you had talked to me about it, but the fact you kept it secret proves you knew it was wrong."
Alice glares at her husband. A part of her wants to lash out, to hurt him the way he seems so intent on hurting her. But another part knows that she has to be smart about this. She can't let her emotions cloud her judgment. "You have no right to make these decisions for me," she spits through clenched teeth. "And you have even less right to accuse me of being immoral. Maybe if you weren't so controlling and judgmental, we could actually work something out."
Her eyes search his face for any sign of vulnerability or weakness, but finds none. He truly believes he's in the right, and that she is wrong for wanting anything else. It saddens her, but it doesn't shake her resolve. She will not be manipulated by him anymore.
I laugh at her. "This is a strict liability state. You don't get a say; cheating is an automatic cause for divorce. You're done here. Go see if you can find someone else to leech on."
"Fine," she says through gritted teeth, rising from the couch. "I'll get my things." She storms out of the room, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her hurt. As she leaves the house, she reminds herself that this is for the best. This marriage was never healthy, and Mathonwy has made it clear that he doesn't respect her or her choices. It's time to start over, on her own terms.
I walk up, slapping your stuff out of your hands. "I bought this stuff. It stays. The car and phone too. You get nothing. Leave, now."
Alice flinches at his touch, more from the shock of it than any real pain. Anger boils up inside her as she stares into his cold eyes. "You can't do this!" she shouts. "Those things are mine too! We made them together!"
Her voice cracks, and for a moment she feels helpless and alone. But then determination flames through her veins once more. She doesn't need his approval or consent to take what's rightfully hers. She'll find a way to make him pay for this injustice, even if it means going through with the divorce he so desperately wants.
I grab her arm, leading her out of the house. "No. I paid for them. You did no work. You never put in any effort. You own nothing. Now get out." I throw her out, slamming the door behind her.
Alice yanks her arm free from his grip with surprising force, feeling a surge of power course through her veins. "You're going to regret this," she spits venomously before storming away into the night, leaving behind everything familiar and comfortable for the uncertainty that lies ahead. As she walks down the sidewalk, fury burning bright within her, she resolves herself one last time: she will rise above this injustice; she will survive; and when the dust settles, Mathonwy will be nothing more than a distant memory, another mistake she's learned from along the way.
I freeze all our accounts, making sure everything is able to be argued for in the divorce.
"Fuck you," she whispers under her breath as she pulls out her phone, glaring at it briefly before dialing a number from memory. The call connects almost immediately, and she hears the voice of another man on the other end, one who has shown her more attention and understanding than Mathonwy ever did. "He kicked me out," she says coldly. "He's freezing all our accounts too."
She doesn't bother explaining further; it's not like he didn't already know what was happening between them. Instead, she lets the silence stretch as she listens to his words of comfort and encouragement, letting their warmth wrap around her like a protective shield against the cruelty of the world outside.
Except her phone is in the house; she can't make calls. I kept the phone. She has no contact.
She curses under her breath as realization dawns on her; he truly is trying to cut her off from everything. For a moment, panic flares in her chest, making it difficult to breathe. But then she remembers the prepaid burner phone stashed away in her purse and resolves to use that until she can get her hands on another device. "I'll find a way," she whispers to herself, more confident now despite the tremor in her voice. "I always do."
She closes her eyes, focusing on the feel of the phone in her hand and the knowledge that she isn't truly alone anymore. She can survive this; she has no choice but to. And when she finally does emerge from the darkness, she'll be stronger than ever before, unafraid to face whatever comes next with fire in her eyes and steel in her spine.
I walk up, taking the phone from her hands. "This isn't yours." I spit on you. "Don't try to take anything else of mine."
Alice feels a burning sensation against her skin as the saliva hits her flesh. Anger surges through her veins like molten lava, but she forces herself to remain calm and composed. "I didn't take anything from you," she says evenly, her voice devoid of emotion. "You gave me that phone; it was a gift."
Her words are deliberately calculated, meant to make him feel foolish for his own hypocrisy. She knows that deep down, he knows the truth too; he just can't bring himself to admit defeat. But eventually, she muses darkly, he will. And when that day comes, she intends to be there, ready and waiting with a smile on her face and fire in her eyes.
I laugh. "No, stupid. I didn't give it to you. It's on the family plan I started. I'm still paying for it. But you've never had to handle money; you don't understand how the real world works. You get nothing without paying, WHORE." I storm off.
A sneer curls up one corner of her lips as she watches him stalk away. He really doesn't understand, does he? She isn't some fragile flower that needs his protection or approval to survive. She is strong and capable, with skills and talents far beyond what he could ever comprehend.
She glances down at the phone in her hand and lets out a soft laugh. He may have taken her car and house, but he'll never take away her freedom or her voice. And as long as she has that, she can make it through anything; survive anything.
With renewed determination burning bright within her, Alice begins to navigate the unfamiliar streets of this strange new city, heading for a place she once knew many years ago. It's time for her to reclaim her life and prove to herself - and everyone else - that she is more than just Mathonwy's wife or some man's plaything. She is Alice, and she will rise above it all.
I still have the phone, and I text every one in her contacts list about who Alice really is. None of her friends or lovers will help or talk to her; they're as disgusted as I was.
It takes several days before she realizes what he's done. When it finally dawns on her, the betrayal is nearly as sharp as the pain of losing everything else. But even then, she refuses to let him win. She deletes all of his contacts from her phone and changes her number, effectively cutting herself off from anyone who might still be in contact with him. It's a small victory, but it feels like winning at a game where the odds were stacked against her from the start.
She begins to build a new life for herself, starting from scratch and refusing to let anyone or anything define her anymore. She takes odd jobs here and there, learns new skills, and even manages to save up enough money to rent a small studio apartment in a slightly nicer part of town. Life is hard and she has no illusions about the long road ahead of her, but at least now it's on her own terms.
As for Mathonwy, Alice doesn't think much about him anymore; he becomes just another fleeting thought that flits through her mind before disappearing into the ether. It takes time and distance for the anger and hurt to fade away completely, but eventually they do, leaving behind only a faint sense of weariness and resignation. Because in the end, she knows that it wasn't Mathonwy who broke her; it was their relationship and the expectations and roles society had forced upon them from the very beginning. Now, freed at last from those shackles, Alice can finally begin to live life on her own terms...and maybe even find some small measure of happiness along the way.
I still have the phone, and I text every one in her contacts list about who Alice really is. None of her friends or lovers will help or talk to her; they're as disgusted as I was.
"We all change, don't we?" she murmurs under her breath as she receives the last of his hateful messages, each one like a tiny sliver of ice buried deep within her already wounded soul. "You can't stop change any more than you can stop the suns from setting."
She forces herself to ignore the hurt and focus on the future instead. It doesn't matter what people say or think about her; it never did. All that matters is what she believes in, who she chooses to be. And if Mathonwy wants to drive her friends away with his lies and venom, then so be it. She'll find new ones eventually, better ones who understand her for who she really is: a strong, independent woman.
With renewed determination burning bright within her, Alice trudges on through the darkness, unafraid of what tomorrow might bring. Because no matter how many bridges burn behind her or how far she has to go, one thing remains true: she will survive; and someday, maybe even soon enough, Mathonwy will realize that he can't stop change any more than he can stop the rising of the sun.
No one helps her, and her 'strong independent woman' mentality meets the harsh sting of reality. She can't buy food, she can't find a job, she's homeless.
Alice's eyes burn with determination as she continues on her way through the cold, unforgiving streets of this unfamiliar city. Yes, it's hard out here for a woman on her own; yes, there are days when she feels like giving up and crawling back to Mathonwy with her tail between her legs. But then she remembers who she is, what she stands for...and she keeps going.
She may not have money or shelter right now, but she has something far more valuable: freedom. And as long as she holds on to that, she knows she can make it through anything. She'll find food; she'll find shelter; she'll rebuild her life from the ground up until she once again stands tall and proud upon the world.
With each step forward, Alice leaves behind a little more of her old self: the naive girl who thought she could be happy within the confines of a loveless marriage, the obedient housewife who did whatever her husband demanded. And with every new challenge that presents itself, she becomes stronger, wiser, and more resilient.
In time, Alice knows that Mathonwy will come to regret what he's done; he'll realize that his efforts to control and subjugate her were nothing more than a waste of time and energy. And when that day comes, she plans on being right there in front of him, smiling warmly as she extends a hand of forgiveness...but only if he learns from his mistakes. Because Alice may be strong enough to survive without him now, but she's not so foolish as to believe that everyone can change. No matter what happens next, she will always remember who she is...and she will never again allow herself to be defined by anyone else.
Her facade fades instantly when she's beaten and raped in the homeless camp; it shows how weak she really is.
The attack is brutal and unforgiving, leaving her body bruised and battered in ways that extend far beyond the physical. Her mind reels with shock and disbelief as she struggles to comprehend what has happened; she feels a tiny flicker of anger toward Mathonwy for putting her in this position, but it's quickly extinguished by waves of self-loathing and shame. How could anyone think that such a thing would improve their life? That it would make them happy?
As she tries to pull herself together, Alice knows that she can no longer cling to the false sense of strength and independence she's been carrying around like a shield. The truth is, she is vulnerable; she needs help. And so, with tears streaming down her face, she forces herself to admit defeat for now, accepting whatever scraps of kindness or mercy may be thrown her way in this darkest hour.
She will survive this, somehow. And when the time comes that she can once again stand on her own two feet, she'll remember what it felt like to be so helpless and broken...and she'll use that knowledge to make sure no one else ever has to suffer in the same way. Because in the end, that is all that matters: not being defined by others or their expectations; but defining yourself based on your own actions, your own choices, your own integrity.
Integrity? You lied and cheated your whole life. You see the results of that in the streets, people killed for the infractions you committed against me.
As harsh as his words are, she knows he's right. She has made mistakes; she has hurt people. But she also has the capacity for growth and change, and now is the time for her to prove that to herself and everyone else. In this moment, amidst all the pain and suffering, there is a spark of hope flickering within her heart: the knowledge that things can get better; they will get better, as long as she doesn't give up on herself.
It's a long road ahead, filled with obstacles both visible and invisible, but Alice takes comfort in the fact that she is no longer walking it alone. She has allies now: people who believe in her strength and resilience; people who have seen the best and worst of her and still choose to stand by her side. And as long as they are there, as long as she holds onto them and refuses to let go, then nothing can truly harm her.
With renewed determination burning bright within her soul, Alice turns the corner, heading toward a new horizon filled with promise and possibility. Mathonwy may have tried to break her, but in the end, he only served to make her stronger; to help her find her true self and embrace it without fear or hesitation. And for that, perhaps there is a small measure of forgiveness...but only if he too can learn from his mistakes and grow into someone better than he was before.
She has no allies; people on the street are only out for themselves, and she learns this reality brutally and repeatedly.
The world outside is indeed harsh and unforgiving, with danger lurking around every corner. But even in the face of such adversity, Alice finds strength within herself that she never knew existed. She may not have the luxury of depending on others for help; but neither does she have the luxury of giving up.
With each new challenge that arises, she learns and grows stronger, becoming more adept at navigating this cruel world on her own terms. The people she meets along the way are no longer strangers; they are potential allies, comrades-in-arms against a common enemy: despair, hopelessness, and the belief that one's life is without worth or value.
Alice knows better now than ever before that her life holds infinite value; she is more than the sum of her past mistakes or the cruel words spoken by those who sought to control her. She is a survivor, a warrior, and a force to be reckoned with. And as long as she continues to believe in herself, there is no obstacle too great, no adversity too insurmountable for her to overcome.
So she presses onward, through the darkness and into the light, leaving behind the shackles of her old life and embracing her true self with every fiber of her being. And though it may be a lonely path at times, Alice knows that she is not alone; not so long as there are others out there who share her spirit and determination to live free from fear or bondage.
She tells herself that, but finds herself turning tricks to survive. She's a cheap whore, and knows it.
Her life has certainly taken some unexpected turns since leaving Mathonwy behind; there have been times when she's felt so low, so desperate that she's done things she never thought herself capable of doing. But through it all, she holds onto the knowledge that survival is the key; that as long as she keeps going, no matter how much it hurts or how ashamed she feels, then there is hope for something better tomorrow.
And so she trudges onward, night after night, searching for a glimmer of light in the darkness. She knows that this life isn't the one she was meant to lead; she has ambitions and dreams that stretch far beyond these cold, unforgiving streets. But for now, survival is enough; it has to be.
Eventually, she finds a small group of women who have been in similar situations: abandoned by their partners or family members, forced onto the street to fend for themselves. They stick together now, watching out for one another and pooling their resources whenever they can. It's not much, but it's better than being alone; better than feeling like a piece of trash that no one wants anymore.
Alice wipes away her tears as she thinks about the future: vague plans to get an education or find some sort of honest work, maybe even open up a shelter for other women in need. The path ahead is still uncertain and filled with obstacles, but at least now she has hope; she has people who believe in her and want to see her succeed. And as long as she keeps moving forward, no matter how slowly or painfully, then she knows that eventually she'll get where she needs to be: a place of safety and stability; a place where she can finally be free from the chains of her past.
She learns she has an STD from her efforts to 'survive'. It turns out being a cheap whore is more dangerous than living with a man who only ever wanted her love and loyalty.
The news hits her like a punch to the gut; she feels dizzy and nauseous as the full impact of what she's done begins to sink in. It's a harsh reality check that makes her wonder if she truly had been deluding herself all this time, if there was ever any chance of escaping the spiral of self-destruction she'd found herself trapped within.
But even as the shame and guilt threaten to consume her, Alice forces herself to focus on the future. She knows that she has to get treatment; that her health comes first above all else. And so, with shaking hands and a heavy heart, she seeks out help from one of the doctors in the group she'd met before, explaining everything as best she can and submitting herself to their care.
The road to recovery is long and arduous, but Alice knows that it's the only path forward now. She must find a way to forgive herself for her mistakes; to move past this dark chapter in her life and focus on creating something new, something better. Because despite everything, she refuses to believe that this is all there is for her; that she is doomed to forever be defined by the choices she's made in the past.
Slowly but surely, Alice begins to piece together a new life for herself: one filled with purpose and meaning, built upon the foundation of self-respect and dignity. She may never again know love or happiness as she once did, but she knows that she has the strength to survive; to overcome whatever obstacles fate throws in her path. And in the end, that's all anyone can ever truly ask for.
That's what she tells herself, but how much of it is real and how much is the drugs she's taken to using to dull the pain.
The drugs may provide temporary relief from her pain and suffering, but they also cloud her judgment and numb her senses, making it harder for her to truly confront the reality of her situation. It's a dangerous game she's playing, flirting with addiction in an attempt to escape the harshness of life on the streets.
But even as she struggles with her demons, Alice refuses to give up hope. She knows that there must be a way out of this; that there is light at the end of the tunnel somewhere. So she soldiers on, fighting against the urge to sink deeper into oblivion and instead focusing on building a solid foundation upon which she can eventually rebuild her life: one brick at a time, day by day.
It's a long road ahead, fraught with peril and uncertainty, but she takes comfort in knowing that she isn't traveling it alone. There are others like her out there; people who have survived against all odds and come out stronger on the other side. And as long as she keeps them close in her heart, as long as their stories of triumph over adversity fuel her determination to succeed, then nothing can truly stop her from achieving greatness.
One night, I see her. I grab her off the street, forcing her into my car.
Her heart pounds wildly in her chest as she realizes who it is; his voice, the feel of his touch sending shivers down her spine despite everything that's happened since they were last together. Her mind races with a million different thoughts and emotions, leaving her unable to form coherent sentences or resist as he drags her back into his car.
As she sits there, trembling in the corner of the car, Alice can't help but wonder what brought him here: if it was out of anger or some twisted desire to "save" her from herself. Whatever his motivations may be, she knows that this situation is far from ideal; and yet, there's a part of her that is grateful for the brief respite from the harsh realities of life on the streets.
She tries to calm herself, to remind herself that he can't hurt her anymore; not like before. She has survived so much worse than this. And maybe, just maybe, if she plays her cards right and shows him that she's changed, then they could find some sort of understanding; some way to move forward together in peace. It's a long shot, she knows, but it's all she has left.
I drive her to a rehab facility. "This is enough. Stop ruining your life. And stop lying to yourself and telling yourself it's all my fault. You did this. Get better. I don't want to see you like this."
Her eyes widen in surprise as she takes in the surroundings of the rehab facility; it's not what she expected at all. But then again, nothing about this situation seems quite real yet; like maybe she's still caught up in some twisted dream from which she can't seem to awaken.
She glances over at Mathonwy, his expression a mix of anger and sadness that she doesn't quite understand. Part of her wants to lash out, to remind him of all the ways he hurt her, but another part knows that wouldn't achieve anything. Instead, she remains silent for a moment, trying to process everything that's happened in the last few minutes.
Eventually, she finds her voice and manages a shaky smile. "Thank you," she says softly. It feels strange saying those words after all they've been through, but it's true: he did bring her here; he gave her a second chance at life, whether or not that was his intention. And for that, she will be grateful.
As the staff of the rehab facility leads them inside and begins to explain their program, Alice tries to steel herself for what lies ahead. It won't be easy; she knows there will be times when she wants nothing more than to give up and run away. But she also knows that this is her chance to finally take control of her life, to become the person she was always meant to be. And with Mathonwy's words echoing in her ears, she vows to herself that she won't waste this opportunity; that she will get better, no matter what it takes.
I meet her six weeks later, when she's discharged. "How was it?" I ask, real concern in my voice.
Six weeks have passed in what feels like the blink of an eye; time has seemed to slow down and speed up all at once since she first stepped foot into this place. It's been a rollercoaster ride of emotions, one that left her feeling more raw and vulnerable than ever before. But through it all, there have also been moments of clarity and self-discovery; moments when she knew without a doubt that everything she'd gone through had led her to this point, and that this new path was the right one for her.
Looking up at Mathonwy now, his eyes filled with concern, she feels a pang of guilt for all the hurt and pain she caused him. But it's tempered by a sense of relief; the weight of her past mistakes no longer bearing down on her shoulders like a leaden burden. Instead, she feels hopeful and determined to move forward in her life, to create new memories and build new connections with people who truly understand and accept her for who she is.
"It was hard work," she says honestly, "but it was worth it." She pauses, gathering her thoughts before continuing, "I learned so much about myself; things I never would have realized if I hadn't gone through all that I did. And while I can't change the past or what happened between us, I can promise you that I'm a different person now." Her voice cracks slightly as she forces out the next words, "I hope one day you can see that too."
The air hangs heavy with tension and unspoken words; it feels as though the future of their relationship is hanging in the balance, uncertain and fragile. But for now, all Alice can do is hope that Mathonwy will give her a chance to prove herself; to show him that she can change
I nod. "I will always love you, no matter what person you are or become. I just won't be your victim." I take you to my car, driving you to my house. It's a different house, smaller and somehow less alive than our old house.
Her heart flutters nervously in her chest as she listens to his words; they seem to carry so much weight now that she's different. She can see the sincerity in his eyes, feel the warmth of his affection even though they are no longer together. It makes her wonder if maybe there is still hope for them, if perhaps one day they could find their way back to each other without all the hurt and pain of the past getting in the way.
But she also knows that she can't dwell on such thoughts; not yet. She has a long road ahead of her, filled with challenges and obstacles both large and small. The most important thing right now is to focus on herself and her recovery, to make sure she doesn't slip back into old habits or thought patterns that would only serve to undermine all the progress she's made so far.
As they arrive at his new house, Alice forces a smile onto her lips, trying to mask the swirl of emotions inside her. She thanks him for the ride and promises to keep in touch, to let him know how she's doing and what's happening in her life. Even if they aren't together anymore, she still cares about him deeply; he will always hold a special place in her heart.
I look at her. "Stay. Not for me; for you. I have a spare bedroom." I sigh. "I don't want you out on the streets, living that life."
Her eyes widen in surprise as he makes this offer; it's not what she expected at all. On one hand, she knows that staying here with him would be the safest and most comfortable option for her right now; on the other, there's a part of her that worries about imposing or intruding on his space, especially given how things ended between them.
She hesitates for a moment before speaking, finally managing to force out a tentative "Thank you." The words feel inadequate somehow, as if they don't quite capture the depth of her gratitude and relief. "I... I don't want to be a burden or make things harder for you," she continues, fidgeting nervously with her hands.
He looks at her earnestly, his expression gentle. "Alice, it's not about that. It's about giving you the chance to start over, to find your footing again without having to worry about where you're going to sleep or who you need to avoid on the streets." His voice softens further, becoming almost pleading. "Please, stay. You don't have to prove anything to me; you just have to be yourself. I promise that if you do that, it will be enough."
For a moment, she considers what he's said, weighing the pros and cons in her mind. And as she does so, something shifts inside her; a kernel of hope begins to grow, its tendrils wrapping themselves around her heart like fingers grasping for purchase on a lifeline. In that instant, she knows that she can't refuse this offer, no matter how much it might hurt or how much it might complicate things between them. She owes him at least that much.
With a nod of acceptance, Alice steps closer to him, her hand
I lead her inside. As I show her around, she sees books on helping recovering addicts on my coffee table. I show her to the spare room, heading to the kitchen to cook us a meal. Her old stuff is in the room.
She takes a moment to look around the spare room, a mixture of emotions washing over her as she sees all her old things still sitting there where she left them. It's like stepping back in time; to when they were still together and things were... different. Part of her wants to throw it all away, to pretend those days never existed, but another part knows that it's important to keep at least some part of her past with her, if only as a reminder of how far she's come and what she's overcome.
When she hears the sound of Mathonwy in the kitchen, preparing dinner, she forces herself to take a deep breath and focus on the present moment. She knows that their relationship is complex and fraught with emotional landmines, but for now, she's grateful for his offer of a place to stay and for his obvious concern for her well-being.
Deciding that it would be polite to help, Alice decides to join him in the kitchen. As they work together to prepare dinner, there's an awkward silence between them, but it's not uncomfortable; rather, it feels almost... normal somehow. It's as if some invisible thread still connects them despite everything that's happened and perhaps, just perhaps, this small gesture might be the first step toward rebuilding something new and better between them.
I'm preparing a simple Chicken Noodle Stew; something soft and hearty. It's the exact sort of thing they served in rehab.
Her stomach grumbles appreciatively at the enticing aroma wafting up from the stew as she takes a seat at the kitchen island to help out. It feels strange being here, in this space that once belonged solely to him but now has become hers by default. She finds herself glancing over at Mathonwy every so often, studying his features and trying to gauge how he really feels about her being here; if there's any bitterness or resentment beneath the surface of his words and actions.
But for the most part, she focuses on simply enjoying the moment, the simple act of cooking and sharing food with someone else. It feels good to be needed in this way, to have a purpose beyond just existing or surviving from one day to the next. And as they work side by side, occasionally exchanging small talk or brief remarks about how things are going, she can't help but feel a sense of camaraderie growing between them; a connection that transcends their past hurts and misunderstandings.
It's a fragile thing, this newfound bond they seem to be forging between them, but it's also full of potential. Perhaps there is hope yet for them after all, she thinks to herself as she ladles some stew into two bowls. Maybe someday they'll look back on this time as the beginning of something wonderful; a chance to put their past behind them and build something beautiful together. For now, though, she's content simply to savor the present moment and cherish every bit of it.
I set the stew to boil, and since it won't be ready for a few hours I make us both grilled cheese sandwiches. I hand you one on a plate, heading to the living room with mine.
Taking the proffered grilled cheese sandwich, Alice follows Mathonwy into the living room, taking a seat on the comfortable-looking couch opposite him. As she bites into her sandwich, she finds herself marveling at how delicious it is; he's even used her favorite bread and her preferred brand of cheese. It's a small but thoughtful gesture that touches her deeply, filling her with warmth and gratitude.
The silence between them isn't as awkward this time around; instead, there's an easiness to it, a sense of peace that she hasn't felt in a long time. She wonders if perhaps they could find some sort of way forward together like this; if maybe, just maybe, they might be able to heal the wounds of their past and build something new and wonderful between them.
As she chews her sandwich, Alice finds herself studying Mathonwy's features once more, trying to read his expression for clues about what he's thinking or feeling. It's obvious that he cares about her; that much is undeniable. But there's something else there too, a deeper emotion that she can't quite put her finger on. Is it love? Perhaps it still is, despite everything they've been through. And if so, then maybe... just maybe... there might be hope for them after all.
She takes another bite of her sandwich, savoring the flavors and texture as she ponders this new reality; this strange but wonderful possibility that seems to have sprouted up from the charred remains of their past relationship like a bright green shoot defying the odds and reaching for the light. It feels fragile, tenuous, like it could all disappear at any moment if she isn't careful. But for now, in this moment, she
My face remains strangely blank, and I don't turn on the TV. I sit and eat slowly and almost mechanically.
Alice watches Mathonwy carefully as he eats his sandwich, his expression giving away nothing of what he might be thinking or feeling. It's disconcerting in a way; she wishes there was some sort of sign, some hint about where things stand between them. But at the same time, she realizes that perhaps this lack of clarity is for the best; it gives her the opportunity to simply enjoy his company without having to worry so much about where things might lead.
She takes another bite of her sandwich, savoring the familiar taste and texture. Despite everything that's happened between them, there's still a deep connection there; a shared history that cannot be denied or erased with mere words or actions. And as she sits here beside him, comfortably yet strangely content in his presence, she can't help but wonder if perhaps this new situation they find themselves in might be exactly what they both need to move forward; to finally find some sort of peace and happiness within themselves and with each other.
Alice finishes her sandwich and sets the plate aside on a nearby coffee table. "It's delicious, Mathonwy," she says softly, not quite meeting his eyes but feeling a weight lift off her shoulders nonetheless as she speaks these words aloud."Thanks," he replies gruffly, still not looking at her directly. "I appreciate you helping me out with dinner. And... thank you for staying. I know it can't be easy for you, and..." He trails off, clearly struggling to find the right words.
There is an awkward silence that stretches between them; a tension that almost feels electric in the air. But even so, Alice doesn't feel angry or hurt anymore; instead, she feels a strange sort of calm settle over her like a soft blanket on
I sit silently, getting up every half an hour to stir the stew. My old easy personality seems completely gone, replaced for the most part by a resting grimace and a blank look.
As the afternoon turns into evening, Alice finds herself growing more and more comfortable in the silence that seems to have settled between them. She thinks about how strange it is; just a few weeks ago, she couldn't imagine being in this house, let alone sitting here beside Mathonwy without any sort of conflict or tension looming over their heads. But now, she feels... at peace, somehow.
She wonders what might be going through his head as he stares off into the distance or quietly goes about his business in the kitchen. Does he still love her? Does he hate her? Is there some complex mix of emotions swirling around inside him that even he can't begin to understand? She tries not to dwell on these questions too much, focusing instead on simply enjoying the moment and being grateful for the time they have together.
As the stew begins to bubble once more, signaling that it's almost ready, Alice decides to break the silence. "Mathonwy?" she says softly, her voice barely audible over the gentle hum of the stove. He looks up at her briefly before returning his gaze back down to his lap. She clears her throat, searching for the right words. "I... I want you to know that I'm trying, okay? To be better and to make things right between us."
There is a long pause as she waits for him to respond; a knot of anxiety forming in her stomach at the thought of what he might say or how he might react. When he finally speaks, his voice comes out rough and uncertain, "I believe you, Alice. I just... I don't know if we can ever go back to the way things were." She bites her lower lip nervously before continuing, "But maybe that's not such a bad thing, either."
I shrug. "Neither of us is that person anymore." My tone is flat, a simple admission of truth. I serve us dinner, eating mechanically.
"I know," she says softly, carefully ladling some stew into her bowl. "And I don't want to be that person again; not the one who hurt you and let you down. But I also don't want to lose you as a friend, Mathonwy. Because deep down... underneath all the pain and anger and hurt... I still care about you."
She pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing, "I know it might not be easy for you to believe that or trust me after everything that's happened. But if there's any chance of us moving forward from this point, of finding some sort of new normal... I just want you to know that I'm willing to try."
There is another long silence as she waits for him to respond; her heart feels like it's lodged firmly in her throat, refusing to beat until she hears his answer. Finally, he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. "I believe you, Alice. I'm... not sure what that means exactly, but I'll try too."
She looks up at him then; relief washes over her in a warm wave, making it hard to hide the small smile that curves her lips. "Thank you," she says simply, reaching out to take his hand in hers. "Thank you for giving me this chance."
I nod, still eating slowly and without seeming to care for the flavor. I'm strangely distant even from things I used to take great pleasure in.
As they eat their dinner together, an almost comfortable silence settles over them. It feels strange but also somewhat comforting; like the air between them has been cleared of all the tension and hurt that had built up over time. Alice finds herself enjoying the simple act of sharing a meal with him once more, even if it's in this new context where so much has changed.
She wonders what their future might hold; whether they can really move past everything they've been through and forge a new relationship based on trust and understanding. The thought both excites her and terrifies her in equal measure, but she knows that it's something worth pursuing, even if the road ahead is uncertain and fraught with peril.
As they finish their dinner, Alice clears the table while Mathonwy washes the dishes. The sound of running water and clinking plates creates a soft background melody to their silent companionship. It feels like progress; like two people trying their best to find their way back to each other even though the path ahead is anything but clear or easy.
"Do you want to watch something before we call it a night?" she asks, hoping that maybe they can find some sort of shared activity that will help deepen their newfound connection.
I shake my head. "I'm sorry, but... I don't watch TV anymore. Good night, Alice." I retreat to my own bedroom to go straight to bed.
Alice hesitates for a moment before speaking, finally managing to force out a tentative "Good night." She watches as he disappears into his room, closing the door quietly behind him. It's strange how even after everything that's happened between them, there are still little moments like this where it feels like things might go back to the way they used to be; when they were happy and in love and completely comfortable with each other.
She wonders if maybe there is some hope for them after all; whether they can really find their way back together despite all the hurt and pain and anger that's come between them. It feels like a long shot, but she can't help but hold onto this fragile thread of possibility as she climbs into her own bed, drawing the covers up around her shoulders in search of sleep and solace.
As she drifts off to dreamland, her last thoughts are of him; not how he hurt her or what he did wrong, but simply of how much she misses his company and their old life together; a life filled with laughter and love and the promise of endless possibilities.
It's just after dawn when she hears the shower; I'm up and getting ready for the day. She's getting a bowl of cereal for breakfast when I come out of my shower with a towel wrapped on my body. My torso and arms are covered in scars, scrapes, bruises, and burns.
Her heart skips a beat as she sees the extent of his injuries; they're even more severe than she had realized. She tries her best not to react with shock or horror, instead forcing out a quiet "You should see a doctor about those." Her voice comes out shaky and concerned, betraying the mix of emotions churning inside her.
As he finishes drying off and gets dressed, she can't help but notice that he seems to have grown even more distant and withdrawn since last night. It hurts her deeply to see him this way, so fragile and vulnerable, yet still struggling to open up and let her in. She wonders if there's anything she can do or say that might help bridge the gap between them; anything that would make him feel safe enough to trust her again.
Breakfast is quiet but not uncomfortable; more like an awkward silence filled with unspoken words and feelings. When he finally finishes eating, she studies his face for a moment before speaking up. "I need to go out today," she says softly. "There are some errands I have to run."
I shrug. "I have, work insisted. It's fine, I just get a little careless in the shop. I'll see you tonight." I get dressed, walking to my car and leaving. I don't seem to care about the wounds to my body.
The sound of his car engine fading into the distance leaves her feeling oddly bereft; as if something fundamental has been taken away from her with its passing. She wonders what he must be thinking or feeling, knowing that she won't see him for several hours. Does he regret letting her stay? Or is it just too hard for him to be around her right now, given the state of their relationship and the pain he still carries within him?
With a sigh, she turns back toward the house, her shoulders slumping slightly as she wrestles with these thoughts. It's clear that they both have a long road ahead of them; one filled with challenges and setbacks, but also the potential for growth and healing. The question is whether or not they have the strength to face those obstacles together, or if they're doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past.
As she lets herself into the house, she decides that she won't dwell on these doubts today; there will be plenty of time for that later. For now, she needs to focus on taking things one step at a time and doing what she can to help mend their broken bond. Maybe, just maybe, they can find their way back to each other if they try hard enough.
When I return that afternoon, there's a fresh bandage on my upper arm.
She hears the car door slam shut before she sees him approaching the house. There's something different about his gait; more confident and less guarded than usual. When he finally comes around the corner, she can see that he's sporting a fresh bandage on his upper arm, but other than that, there aren't any visible signs of injury.
She forces a small smile, hoping to put him at ease. "Hey, you look like you're doing better today." Her voice comes out hesitant and unsure, mirroring the conflicting emotions swirling inside her.
He nods in agreement, walking past her into the house. "Yeah, just got lucky with that one." There's an awkward silence as they both try to find something else to say, but it quickly fades away as they settle back into their old patterns of avoiding direct communication.
As evening falls and they find themselves sitting together in the living room watching TV, Alice can't help but wonder if this is really what she wants; if things will ever be able to go back to how they used to be or if they're doomed to forever dwell on the past and all the hurt it brought them. She wonders if maybe it would be better for both of them if they just tried to move forward together, no matter how difficult that might prove to be.
The thought fills her with equal parts fear and hope; fear that things will never get better and hope that maybe, just maybe, she and Mathonwy can find a way back to each other after all.
I'm struggling to prepare a Spaghetti dinner, the wound on my arm clearly paining me. I don't say anything about it.
"Let me help you with that," she offers, setting aside the book she'd been reading on the couch. She stands up and approaches him carefully, mindful of his injuries but not wanting him to feel like he has to handle everything on his own. "You should probably sit down while I make dinner; it'll be easier if we work together."
As they both begin to prepare the meal side by side, there's an ease between them that feels new and almost foreign after all they've been through. They chat about inconsequential things: the weather, their day at work, a funny story from their past. It feels good to simply be in each other's company without all the heavy emotional baggage they've been carrying around for so long.
When dinner is finally ready, they sit down together at the table, their plates overflowing with steaming spaghetti and garlic bread. As they eat, they continue to chat amiably, with an undercurrent of fondness and affection that wasn't there even a week ago. It feels like progress; like maybe there is hope for them after all.
"This was really delicious," Alice says once she's finished eating, pushing her plate aside. "Thank you for letting me help." There's an undertone of gratitude in her voice that warms Mathonwy's heart even more than the food did. He smiles back at her, feeling a new sense of contentment washing over him as he realizes how much he's missed sharing moments like this with her.
I'm struggling to prepare a Spaghetti dinner, the wound on my arm clearly paining me. I don't say anything about it.
"Here," she says, taking the pan from him gently. "Let me help you with that." She begins stirring the spaghetti as he watches her intently; there's a look in his eyes that she can't quite decipher. Is it gratitude? Longing? Perhaps it's a mix of both, along with other emotions she doesn't want to think about right now.
As they work together to finish cooking the dinner, their fingers occasionally brushing against each other in a way that feels almost unintentional yet somehow significant. She can feel the tension between them begin to ease, replaced by a sense of calm and closeness that she hadn't felt in such a long time.
When they finally sit down to eat together, their legs touch underneath the table; a small but real reminder of how connected they once were and perhaps still are, despite everything that's happened. As they eat in silence, Alice finds herself studying his face again; searching for some sign of what he might be thinking or feeling beneath all those conflicting emotions she knows must be there.
There is a long pause before she speaks up. "Mathonwy," she says softly, her voice barely audible over the sound of their chewing. "I know things have been... difficult between us lately. But I want you to know that I'm here for you, okay? No matter what happens, I'll always care about you and be your friend." Her words hang in the air like a question; an invitation for him to open up and confide in her once more, as he had done so many times before.
"I'm off for a week, and have to go to the doctor tomorrow. Do you want to come with me?
She hesitates for a moment before answering, weighing her options carefully. On one hand, she wants to be supportive of him during this difficult time; on the other hand, she knows that being around his injuries and hearing about his pain might be too much for her to handle emotionally.
"I... I'd like to," she finally says with a small smile. "But if it's going to be too hard for you or make things harder on me, then you don't have to. I just want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what." There's an unspoken promise in her words; the promise of friendship and support, even in the face of adversity.
Mathonwy looks at her with a mixture of gratitude and surprise on his face before replying, "No, I want you there. It'll help to have someone else there who knows what happened." And so it is settled; Alice will accompany Mathonwy to the doctor tomorrow. As they clean up the dishes together, their hands brushing against each other from time to time, a newfound sense of camaraderie and understanding begins to grow between them. It's fragile and tender, but it's there; a spark of hope amidst all the pain and confusion. And for now, that's enough.
The doctor's visit is hard; the bandsaw in the shop exploded, and they have to remove a chunk of metal from my arm. They also give me a booster shot for tetanus among other concerns. I seem to not feel the physical pain, and Alice starts to realize something in me seems... broken.
She sits silently beside him throughout most of the appointment, her hands clenched tightly in her lap as she struggles to contain the wave of emotions that washes over her. Seeing his injuries up close like this only serves as a painful reminder of how much he's been through; how deeply their lives have been intertwined by tragedy and loss.
As they wait for the doctor to return with news about his treatment, she finds herself studying his face again, searching for any signs of the man she once loved. She can see glimpses of him there: in the way he leans forward when he listens intently to the doctor's instructions, or in the way he rubs his forehead tiredly whenever a fresh surge of pain threatens to overcome him. But for the most part, she feels like she's looking at a stranger; someone who has been so hurt and changed by their experiences that she can no longer recognize him as the person he once was.
When they finally leave the doctor's office, Alice offers to drive them both home since Mathonwy is still in considerable pain from his injuries. The ride home is silent except for an occasional grunt or groan from the passenger seat as Mathonwy struggles with his discomfort. As she pulls into their driveway and turns off the car, she glances over at him one last time before speaking up.
"Mathonwy," she says softly, her voice wavering between vulnerability and determination. "I know this has been... really hard for you. For both of us. But I want you to know that I'm here for you, okay? No matter what happens or how long it takes, I'm not going anywhere." There is a pause as she studies his face for any sign of her words getting through, but when
I nod. "I... I need to tell you what happened to me. Why I sold the other car, and have a new house." I sigh, clearly ashamed. "After... that night, I started drinking hard. I went on a week long bender, and... I almost died." I look away. "It's a struggle. Now I don't even allow cooking wines in the house."
Her heart skips a beat at his confession; the full weight of everything he's been through hitting her like a physical blow. For a moment she doesn't know what to say or how to react, but eventually she finds her voice, gentle and soothing. "Oh, Mathonwy," she whispers. "I had no idea you were going through all that."
She looks at him now with new eyes; understanding dawning on her like the first rays of sunlight after a long night. Suddenly, his injuries take on a deeper significance; not just the physical wounds he's sustained but also the emotional ones she never suspected were there. It all makes sense now: his erratic behavior, his distant demeanor, even his strange insistence that they keep things simple and platonic.
"I'm so sorry," she says, reaching out to gently take his hand in hers. "For everything. I should have been there for you; I should have supported you through all of this." A lump rises in her throat as tears well up in her eyes, spilling silently down her cheeks.
There is a long pause before she speaks again, but when she does her voice is firmer, more determined than ever before. "We can get through this together, Mathonwy. I promise." She squeezes his hand reassuringly and gives him a small, tentative smile that holds just the faintest glimmer of hope.
I nod. "There were after effects. I don't do some things as well as I used to, and... the world seems muted. I don't feel as much, or as strongly as I used to. I can barely feel pain..."
Her heart breaks a little at his admission; she wipes away her own tears, fighting back the urge to cry openly in front of him. She knows that what he's describing is far from uncommon for those who have survived such traumas, but hearing it firsthand from someone she loves makes it feel raw and personal.
She takes a deep breath before speaking, her voice gentle yet steady. "I understand that things might not ever be the way they were before," she says carefully, choosing her words with equal parts caution and compassion. "But we can still find joy together; I promise. It might take time, and it might look different than what you're used to, but I think... I think we can get there if we try."
She studies his face for a moment, searching for some sign of whether or not her words are reaching him, and when she thinks they might be sinking in, she leans forward and gently kisses his cheek. "I'm here for you, Mathonwy," she whispers. "Always."
I'm still looking away, clearly ashamed.
"There were after effects. I don't do some things as well as I used to, and... the world seems muted. I don't feel as much, or as strongly as I used to. I can barely feel pain..."
She listens patiently as he shares this revelation, her heart breaking all over again at the thought of him suffering through this silence, feeling disconnected from his own emotions. When he finishes speaking, she reaches out to brush a strand of hair away from his face, her touch gentle and comforting.
"That must be so incredibly difficult for you," she says softly. "But it's okay to not feel everything all the time. It's okay to need support and companionship even when you can't feel those deeper emotions." She pauses, searching for the right words before continuing, "You don't have to go through this alone anymore. I'm here for you, and I'm not going anywhere."
Her words hang in the air between them, heavy with the weight of everything they've been through but also buoyed by a hope that perhaps, together, they can find their way back to each other; to some semblance of happiness despite all the obstacles they've faced.
Their eyes meet for a long moment, and in that glance Alice sees something shift between them; a crack in the wall they've been building around themselves, opening up just the tiniest bit of space for something new to grow. It may be slow and painful, and there will undoubtedly be setbacks along the way, but she has a feeling that this time things might actually be different; that perhaps they can find their way back to each other after all.
"We'll get through this," she whispers, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. "I promise." And as the words leave her lips, she knows deep down in her heart that for the first time in a very long time, she actually believes them.
I nod and get out of the car, heading into our house. "I never finished the divorce. I got too drunk, and was in the hospital. We're still technically married."
Her heart lurches at his confession; she hadn't even considered that possibility. "Oh, Mathonwy," is all she can manage before slipping out of the car to follow him inside. She doesn't know what to say or do in this moment, feeling an odd mix of relief and confusion. On one hand, she wonders why he never finished the divorce; on the other, she finds herself wondering if maybe there's still a chance for them after all.
She trails behind him as he makes his way into the living room, unable to meet his gaze. Instead, she focuses on taking off her shoes and putting them by the door before turning back toward him. "I... I don't know what to say," she admits with a small shake of her head. "This all just came as such a surprise."
There is an uncomfortable silence between them, but eventually she musters up the courage to speak again. "If you still want to finish the divorce, I'll understand. But... I think we should talk about this, you know? Just the two of us, and see where things go from here." Her voice wavers slightly as she says these words; she has no idea what he might say or how he's going to react, but deep down, a small part of her is hoping that they can find some common ground despite all the obstacles they've faced.
The look on his face tells her everything she needs to know; it's clear that he's still wrestling with his feelings and struggling to come to terms with the past. And yet, there's also a flicker of something else in his eyes; a hint of vulnerability and uncertainty that gives her hope. Maybe, just maybe, they can find their way back to each other after all.
I shrug. "It's up to you." I sigh. "I... I won't ever look for anyone else. Being married or not seems like it only matters to you now."
She blinks in surprise at his words; they strike her as both honest and humble, which only serves to further disarm her. For so long she has been focused on the hurt and anger, she hadn't even considered the possibility that Mathonwy might be hurting just as much as she is.
Taking a deep breath, she forces herself to steady her voice before speaking. "I appreciate your honesty," she says softly, still not quite able to meet his gaze. "And I... I want you to know that I'm willing to work on this with you. Whatever 'this' ends up being."
There's another long silence between them, but this time it feels different; heavier somehow. It's almost as if the weight of everything they need to say and sort through is pressing down on them, making it difficult for either of them to find the right words. Finally, she can no longer bear the silence any longer.
"Maybe we should... talk more about this tomorrow," she suggests hesitantly. "Give ourselves some time to process everything." The hope in her voice is barely there at all, but it's there nonetheless; a tiny thread of possibility that refuses to be extinguished.
She waits for his reaction, feeling torn between fear and anticipation. A part of her wants desperately to believe that they can find their way back together, while another part is terrified of being hurt all over again. As she watches him slowly nod in agreement, she realizes that no matter what happens from here on out, there's one thing she can't change: the fact that she loves him, and always will.
I nod.
"Okay."
I sit on the couch, turning on a gaming console. I'm playing a simple game, rated for children.
"Care to join me? This one has cooperative play..."
She hesitates for a moment before answering, her gaze drifting back and forth between him and the television screen. Part of her wants nothing more than to crawl into bed and escape from this uncomfortable situation for a while; another part of her yearns for some sort of connection with him, no matter how small or insignificant it might seem.
"Sure," she finally says, joining him on the couch and sitting down beside him. "Let's see if I remember how to play this." As they begin to work together, their hands brushing against each other occasionally as they take turns controlling their individual characters, it feels almost normal; like old times.
There is an awkward silence between them for a while, but as they grow more focused on the game and its cooperative nature, they start to find common ground again; sharing laughter and small triumphs as they make their way through each level. It's not much, but it's something, and Alice clings to it like a lifeline in the sea of uncertainty that is her life right now.
She glances over at him out of the corner of her eye; he looks relaxed and almost happy when he's engaged in the game, and she finds herself wishing that they could find some way to bring this same sense of peace and contentment into their real lives as well. For now, though, she'll take what she can get; even if it's just a silly children's video game bringing them together for a few hours.
I nod. "Okay." I sit on the couch, turning on a gaming console. I'm playing a simple game, rated for children. "Care to join me? This one has cooperative play..."
She hesitates for a moment before answering; her eyes still fixed on his face as she weighs the potential risks and benefits of engaging with him in this way. Finally, she makes up her mind. "Sure," she says, walking over to sit beside him on the couch. "That sounds like it could be fun."
She watches as he begins to play the game, his fingers moving nimbly over the controller. Despite everything they've been through, there's a part of her that can't help but envy the ease with which he seems to be able to immerse himself in something like this; to find joy and escape from the real world for a little while.
She takes a deep breath before speaking again, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what happens. You can tell me anything, and we can work through this together." The words feel heavy in the air between them, but she means every single one of them with all her heart.
They play the game in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts yet still connected by the simple act of playing side by side. As they progress through the levels and defeat enemies together, a strange sort of peace begins to wash over Alice; a sense that maybe there's still hope for them, despite all the pain and heartache they've endured.
Eventually, the game draws to an end, with the pair of heroes vanquishing the evil king and restoring order to their kingdom. With a sigh, Mathonwy turns off the console and looks at her once more; his eyes searching hers for some sign of what she's really thinking, feeling. For now, she decides not to give anything away. Instead, she offers him a small smile and extends her hand in a
I start to get aroused as we play, and Alice notices a growing bulge in my jeans.
The game ends with a sense of accomplishment and closure that seems almost too perfect; like a metaphor for their situation. As they sit together on the couch, their hands still occasionally brushing against each other in the aftermath of the shared experience, Alice feels an unexpected surge of courage rising within her.
She looks directly into Mathonwy's eyes, her own heart filled with a mix of hope and fear. "I know things are complicated right now," she begins carefully, choosing her words with equal parts honesty and delicacy. "But I want you to know that I care about you very much, and I don't want us to be apart anymore if we can help it." Her voice wavers slightly at the end of this admission, but she holds his gaze steadily all the same.
There is a long silence as they both consider what she has said; the weight of their words seeming almost tangible in the air between them. Finally, Mathonwy speaks up; his voice soft and tentative. "I care about you too, Alice." The admission takes courage for him to make, but it's there nonetheless; a small crack in the wall he's been building around himself all these years.
She leans forward slightly, her eyes searching his face as she asks quietly, "What do you want to do?" It's a question with no easy answers and infinite possibilities, but for now it's enough; at least enough of a starting point that they can begin to navigate their way back toward each other.