Familiar Landscapes

          For most associates at Harkman Industries the magic hour was five pm on the dot, but this was sadly not the case for Heather Marie Thompson. Her joyful hour of release was six pm instead - if she was lucky that day. Between her own work, playing secretary for a cost effective boss, and pretending to be a cleaning fairy there wasn't enough time in a normal work period to accomplish it all. Fortunately, as cheap as her boss was, this slightly elongated shift business was acceptable so long as it didn't get out of hand and it earned her a slightly higher salary.
          Tonight was beginning to feel like one of those unlucky nights as it was nearly six and she had barely even begun to set up orders that would have to be made promptly in the morning. Setting up orders wasn't bound to take long itself, it just wasn't the only item on her list to get done before she escaped for a night in with a movie and maybe some take out. Sighing, she kept at it, bright purple nails tapping against the surface of her desk when she wasn't busy typing away. This clicking sound was joined on occasion by her singing along to whatever music she was listening to before she would catch herself and cease immediately. A habit she was attempting to break herself of for those hours she had to share the office space with other employees.
          "You have a really pretty voice when you're not mumbling and trying to hide it," Gavin Merlin Watson stated with a smile, shaking Heather out of her work flow.
          "Do not," Heather muttered as she pushed her headphones down around her neck. "Who let you in anyway?"
          "Who wouldn't let me in?" Gavin asked while he put on what he considered to be his most charming smile.
          "Anyone with half a brain sweets," Heather shot back, grinning.
          "Way to insult poor Mildred. She tries so hard you know," Gavin said, chuckling some as he spoke. "You can't fault the dear woman for being such a romantic about us. After all she's the one that matched us up with her cunning ways."
          Heather burst into a small giggle fit over that statement, shaking her head for a moment. "Is that what you told her this time?" She asked despite already being sure of the answer. "You know one of these nights she's going to catch on to your little game right?"
          "Hopefully by then some silly bee will be done keeping me locked away in the lobby like some commoner," Gavin retorted as he swiftly took a step back to avoid a smack he was certain he would receive.
          Heather pushed herself away from her desk to keep up with Gavin's movement. Reaching her target of choice she reached out to gently punch him in the chest. "Fucker," she exclaimed as her fist connected with him, smiling all the while. "You could avoid such a fate by actually waiting to come over when I've told you that I'm done. But nooo, you have to come early to be a troublemaker."
          "It's not causing trouble if they like it. Plus, if I don't come put a smile on your face you would stay here all night. I'm sure your coworkers would love to catch you fast asleep on the job the next morning," Gavin pointed out as he messed up Heather's already disastrous looking hair. "You know my trouble making way is your favorite thing about me. Definitely what caught your eye."
          "In your dreams," Heather declared as she rolled her way back to her desk, ignoring her even more problematic hair situation. "There are better traits of yours to like," she tacked on, her fingers once more quick at work on her keyboard.
          Gavin smirked as he shook his head, the curled ends of his shaggy blonde hair swaying from the movement. "Those talents aren't ones you can tell from a distance Honey Bee."
          "They are ones you can learn from a bathroom stall," Heather was quick to point out, glancing over her shoulder to stick her tongue out at Gavin. "Believe the message was something like for a good time call this number... At least until I cleaned it off."
          "Surprised it didn't say something about breaking hearts. That's how you would really know to trust those crudely written notes." Gavin stated, keeping his position of a short distance away from Heather.
          "Maybe, but it's working out so far, so I'm going to keep riding this wave until it crashed. Maybe some beach dwellers will drown," Heather announced, totaling out her current project. Clicking open the next program she forged onward. "You know you could make this go by faster by cleaning things up instead of just running your mouth."
          Gavin chuckled, leaning back against a nearby desk. "Hey now! That only almost happened once and I was an innocent, curious kid at the time, so pffft." He pointed out as he continued to laugh. Then he fell silent for a few moments as he debated being helpful or staying as just a pest.
          "I believe the curious, innocent kid excuse goes out the winder after you're eighteen hun," Heather called out as she double checked the schedule written out on her screen. Satisfied with everything on it she closed the program out, stealing a glance over at Gavin as she did so. "Such a great smart ass helper," she exclaimed as she stood up and stretched. "Means we can blow this popsicle stand if you're ready."
          "Baby, I was born ready," Gavin declared loudly as he leaped dramatically out from the cubicle area he had been cleaning. "Your curiosity should never die, regardless of age." He added on as he tossed a small bag of trash into the bin next to Heather's work station.
          "Whatever dork," Heather said as she started to pull on her teal wool pea coat. Slender fingers deftly buttoning it up to lock in the warmth. Next she snagged her gray, black, and white plaid scarf, wrapping it around her neck before stuffing it into the front of her coat. Tugging on her white owl hat with one x'ed out purple eye she grinned at her partner in crime.
          Gavin waited in silence, content to observe Heather as she prepared to leave. "Well aren't you a gorgeous, wintry sight Bee."
          Heather turned away from Gavin then, porcelain cheeks heating up to a lovely scarlet hue. "Must have me confused with someone else. I'm just your average snow bunny. Nothing more, nothing less." She managed to eventually stammer out before once again facing Gavin. Slinging her metallic purple purse over her shoulder she headed towards the exit, heels clicking away as she walked. "Come on then, I've been here long enough today," she exclaimed to shift the focus away from her.
          "Yea, yea, I'm coming Bee." Gavin murmured as he fell into step alongside her. Leaping ahead for a moment to push open the door leading to the stairs. "After you my average snow bunny Bee."
          A small smile and a shake of her head were the only indications Heather gave that she had heard him. Taking a few quick steps down she turned to look up at Gavin. "Slow much?" She asked while Gavin continued to hold the door open.
          "Had to let a few ghosts pass on by," he explained, stepping away from the door to let it slam shut. "What's our plan for the evening?" He asked as he caught up to Heather, sliding his right hand into her left one.
          "My plan was some take out Thai food and a movie for a quiet night in," Heather answered, emphasizing the word my.
          "Well, I was going to offer my gentlemanly services for the evening, but if you're going to be like that..." He began, trailing off at the end to provide Heather time to object.
          "Do these ways include paying for dinner? If so I might be able to handle your company for the evening."
          "That's the only way I roll sugar Bee," Gavin stated with a grin, squeezing Heather's hand. Letting go of the aforementioned hand he waited for Heather to unlock the door that led into the office building's central lobby.
          "Mmhm, only way indeed," Heather said with an all knowing smile. Fishing the key out of her coat pocked she unlocked the door that hindered their escape. Nudging it open enough to allow Gavin to slide his right foot into place as a door stopper she locked it back up.

Lost in the Clouds

          Cedric Sayer Davenport had a tendency to get himself lost among the clouds. This was a trait that numerous people believed he would grow out of with age when falling prey to make believe tended to disappear. A belief that his parents strongly held on to during those early years that brought them plenty of conferences and email exchanges with teachers, with the entire school. Instead his moments of being captive in his head only seemed to become worse. It came to a point where prying him away from wherever he went off to back to the present became an abandoned cause for most. For Cedric that was a long awaited and welcomed change in the behavior of the people around him.
          Staring at clouds had once cost him a relationship or two during his last official years of youth. Afterwards word finally traveled up and down the hallways of his school that he was a hopeless cause unless you preferred your boyfriend to be distant, withdrawn. These high school facts failed to travel with him when he left the small town behind for bigger and better adventures elsewhere. Out in the real world of college he became a studious recluse, a shadow hanging around long enough to leave a flickering impression. Thoughts of those years gone by now plagued his time pulled away from the living, leaving him wondering if perhaps he should have worked harder to connect to the world around him.
          "Do you ever wonder what's beyond all of this?" Rebecca Avery Dart asked for what she believed to be the thirtieth time as if continuously repeating herself would generate a response. For most this sort of constant inquiry would unhinge them enough to at least shout at her, but since Cedric had yet to do that the dear girl had gone and made a game out of it. It would end when one of them broke this exchange of noise for silence with Rebecca's bet cast rather heavily on herself being victorious.
          Cedric had been absorbed in himself for the first few times Rebecca asked, the exact amount of which he was uncertain of. At first he wasn't even aware that she had repeated herself until he had opened his mouth to reply only to be met with her inquiring yet again. That had set him up to wait patiently for her to tire of asking like many before her had. Fifteen times later Rebecca appeared to still be going strong, an act of tenacity that surprised him. "Poverty, crime, and hopelessness," he responded finally, giving into that lucky thirtieth time.
          Rebecca clapped her hands in excitement the Cedric finished with his answer, a broad smile on her face. Later on in the day she would probably congratulate herself with an ice cream treat for her victory, but for right now there was a conversation to seize a hold of. "That's around here too though," she countered while she plopped herself down on the grass in front of Cedric. "And that's not what I meant anyway. I'm talking more about beyond our daily grind, hanging out with those whims that most people don't have time for. You know, like, up there with the clouds."
          Cedric looked confused to begin with, the clapping taking him by surprise. A look that persisted on hanging around as he watched Rebecca make herself at home on the lawn area in front of his spot under the branches of a dogwood tree. "The manicured look of perfection could have fooled me," he muttered as he attempted to process the rest of what the strange girl had said. Through the years no one he knew had ever specifically asked him about the clouds and it seemed out of place now for some random person he doubted he would ever see again to do so. "All of the time," Cedric whispered at long last, stretching out his legs from the crossed position they had been in. "I'm still not sure specifically what's there or why it calls to me with such persistence as if it has something important to tell me."

The Same Old Crowd

          "Does this ever get any easier?" Bronwyn Edith Turner asked of the shrubbery planted next to the dimly lit back porch in frustration. "Or am I doomed to be stuck here forever repeating the same damn childish games with the same old crowd?" Another question born of her irked ways for the unresponsive bushes as she used the ivory railing that wrapped around the porch as support for her spinning world.
          Nearby Marcus Gerald Durrel stood quietly to the left side of the open sliding door as a mixture of loud conversations and louder still music drifted out. For now he was content to play the part of the silent observer, having learned the hard way to not speak up during one of Bronwyn's monologues months ago. That first dared interjection had left him with a bruised eye and a spot on Bronwyn's black list for a couple of weeks. From then on it had been decided his dear was not one to share her feelings with an actual person. A trait that he found strange in comparison to his other female companions. Unfortunately for his vow of silence Bronwyn's outbursts and descents into somewhere dark were beginning to become more regular, leaving Marcus stuck on high alert in his mute location.
          "I've heard another drink or two or three helps kill the nerves and makes the same old crowd bearable," said a voice that neither Bronwyn or Marcus could place as someone stepped on to the porch from the illuminated world of the kitchen. The new comer's lips were curved upwards into a smile that Marcus would swear was a permanent fixture on their face due to the level of ease at which it rested there. "At least that's what I've always been told," the stranger added as he extended his right hand to hold out an unopened bottle of Blue Moon for Bronwyn.
          Startled failed to even begin to cover Bronwyn's level of surprise over the surprise over the unrecognized voice. At this point most people knew to let her stumble away from the crowd in peace to wrestle with her inner demons. Even strangers crowded around for a good time had managed to pick up on that unspoken rule. The exception to her no one allowed nearby policy being Marcus the speechless, but he had earned his keep after he survived one of her particularly bad nights and a stint on her bad least. "Who asked you?" Bronwyn spat out eventually as she turned for a moment to snatch up the offered beer.
          At these challenge filled words Marcus tensed up, rocking forward on the balls of his feet to be ready for action. Bronwyn was unlikely to require his assistance, but he was less certain of the unknown's safety. What his comrade lacked in height advantage she more than made up for with a combination of speed and various methods of self defense. A fact he knew to have the tendency to shock some drunkards that made passes at Bronwyn on nights they went out to the city to avoid the same old college crew. Really though most people shared that very same tendency to underestimate Bronwyn.
          "You did. Unless you were expecting the plant life to rise and talk," the newcomer replied, oblivious to the growing tension in the air. As he spoke he took another step out on to the porch, leaving the light that shadowed most of his features. The step and way he talked of the plant life made it clear to Marcus that he had not been noticed yes.
          "Maybe I wasn't looking for an answer." Bronwyn pointed out, doing her best to enunciate each word while keeping a leveled tone. An act that she failed to find easy due to a mixture of intoxication and a growing level of discomfort. Despite this unease or possibly even because of it she finally turned around to face down her foe. Her eyebrows raised for a moment in stunned recognition before she managed to regain her composure.
          "What's the point in asking questions then?" The fellow pressed on, taking a mental note of that swift moment of recollection. Later on he would take longer to sort out his feelings on her remembrance and quick dismissal. He had failed to realize who he had followed on to the porch himself up until he heard questions that he had heard the same girl ask years ago, so really he couldn't find fault in receiving the same treatment.

Eye of the Storm

          The fading light of what had been a sun filled day filtered its way in Sylvia Eliana Belotti's bedroom, barely illuminating anything in it. Luckily that was exactly the way that the twenty five year old preferred it. A preference that she had set down the day that she agreed to look for a place to live with her best friend a couple of years ago. At first it was simply due to her being biased towards the night life, but had since evolved to include making her hectic schedule more tolerable. The added bonus being that her room ended up being the one with the highest noise reduction.
          Today none of that mattered though. Her normally rambunctious best friend had gone home for the holidays, leaving their small house unsettling in its silence. This was a holiday trip that coincided with Sylvia's first vacation in years. Between two full time jobs, volunteer work, and a meager social life the poor girl never let herself take a real day off. Long days that were a constant source of worry for her close friends and family. Worry that she shrugged off with the well known phrase "I'll sleep when I'm dead."
          Fortunately such worries were being put to rest this winter. At least until her vacation ended in a month and her regular life resumed; a concern for the new year. This was time she had hoped to use to catch up on various projects and books, but had since turned into time spent in unexpected territory with one of her male friends. Territory that she didn't entirely mind, just had never entertained the idea of it given where they tended to be in life on the occasions that the could hang out. Him with his long term girlfriend and her with her on and off again flings weren't exactly a matching pair. Yet her second day off had begun with him showing up on her porch at the awful hour of five am looking for a place to stay. Now, a week later, her life seemed very different. 
          "You're a lot like me," Sylvia began to say in a whisper as the two of them continued to lay in bed. Each word coming out slowly as she carefully chose them. Her dark brown eyes were locked on Trenton's face, taking in every detail in the dim light. "Our world is a storm front waiting for the perfect moment to erupt into torrential chaos," she added in way of explanation, these words coming out quicker as the ideas bounced around her head.
          "We're sitting in the eye of what promises to be an intense storm and no one else can see what's coming," Trenton interjected, finishing of Sylvia's thoughts. His light brown eyes flashing a hint of a spark of life for the first time since he had begun to stay with Sylvia.
          Sylvia, in her excitement, clenched on to her Toy Story themed bed spread. Pale hands holding herself back from bouncing up and down on her bed in triumph. Enthusiasm she feared might scare her friend despite her wholehearted belief that it was warranted. "Early warning signs that don't work."

Time Doesn't Heal All Wounds

          Sampson Abraham McDaniel was often considered to be the golden boy among his peers. Between an unbreakable optimistic view of the world, perfect grades throughout his college career, what most of his school mates would call a dream job, and a social life most people his age would kill for he certainly fit the bill. To those that never knew him beyond his carefully crafted barriers this portrayed perfection rarely faltered for more than a handful of moments, if at all. However, around his trusted friends his flawless image was, unfortunately, beginning to crumble, to break apart and fade away. A situation his friends were unsure of how to handle due to Sampson's refusal to disclose what was bothering him because he wasn't sure if they would understand.
          At work he could handle everything by keeping himself distracted, but alone at night thoughts of his past would break through. Thoughts that ran continuously through his mind one night that made it difficult for him to finish a trivial report for his family's business, his business. Furrowing his brows in frustration Sampson continued to mindlessly click through various browser tabs and programs as his deep blue eyes barely registered the information on his laptop screen. That was until a familiar name flashed at the bottom of the screen, an event he didn't believe was real. Still, it couldn't hurt to look into it farther he convinced himself after several seconds of hesitation. Sure enough, there she was sitting online, Ruby Olivia Owens; the ghost of his past responsible for his present distracted state. Not that he knew what to do next.
          Just like that her name dimmed out, leaving Sampson alone once more with his memories of her. They were a messy affair now that a couple of years had gone by since their final goodbye. Some days he wasn't even sure if he had imagined most of their time together or not. In fact, he was already beginning to believe his eyes were in cahoots with his mind and playing tricks on him. Then it happened again, the little flash at the bottom of his screen that declared her online status. This time there would be no hesitation from him.
          Swiftly he flicked his wrist to move the mouse on to her name, clicking the tiny green phone icon next to her name. "I miss you," he blurted out the instant he heard the tiny click that signified that she had chosen to pick up his call. The words coming out louder than he had intended, which would be a concern for later if his house mate bothered to bring it up at all.
          "You miss everyone," Ruby countered without a second thought, her coral painted lips curving downwards into a small frown as she spoke. She knew the words in part spoke of a falsehood, used to keep her emotions at bay tonight. His presence online was not one that she had taken into consideration when she had decided to wander online for the first time in months.
          Bullshit and you know it, Sampson thought, a familiar surge of annoyance hitting him as he bit down on his bottom lip. He couldn't rightfully blame her for her harsh words though. Between the time that had passed and the frequency at which he used to have to say those words he was far from an ideal candidate for being believable. That was one of the joys of being raised in a family of high society hell bent on looking perfect; whether you believed it or not you had to say it to keep up appearances. Coupled with Sampson's desire to be the shining example of perfection for his parents he always felt compelled to say those cursed words. "Not the way that I miss you," he whispered into his microphone, allowing a few silent moments to pass to let it sink in before forging onward. "It's everything about you. From the way you smell to that sleepy look of accusation you used to give me when you would wake up and blame me for it to  the quiet way that you used to tell me that you loved me. A part of me is missing with you gone. I want you back and I don't want to lose you... Not again, my heart couldn't take it." There, he laid down a good chunk of his heart on the line to be crushed completely or nurtured back to where it once was. From here on out there would be no turning back.
          Ruby's frown deepened with each whispered word, her heart racing and aching for him much like it used to. Those thoughts belonged to a different time, a different her she reminded herself firmly. Sampson had made the move to disengage, to follow the path that his parents had laid out for him, not her. This heartache belonged to her, never him; she had convinced herself of that moments after their end as she worked to get over him. "Your heart can't take it? What about mine? You let me Sammy Bear, not the other way around. Don't tell me about taking it." She began, each word coated with the anger she had repressed all of those years ago. "If it was true you would have found me before this," she continued on, fighting back tears as she spoke. Her mind wandering back to the memories of a boy that would have done anything in his power for her; what a sham that had turned out to be.
          Ruby's words cut him deep due to the level of truth that resonated with each one. At least that was the case with the part of the story that Sampson knew Ruby had heard. The publicized version he had given her was full of family holes and failed to properly portray the degree of which he had fought against it, protested every part of it. Yet despite all of that there was a glimmer of hope when she had said Sammy Bear. "What can I do to prove to you that I mean every single word of it Ruby Gloom?"
          "Tell me the truth. Not that bullshit your family gave you to memorize. That's the part that stung the most. Standing there listening to you lie and hold shit back from like I didn't know you, didn't know all of your stupid little quirks." Ruby began, digging right into matters. Tears now freely rolled their merry way down her flushed cheeks, making her glad that he couldn't see her. Flashing back for a moment to the first night that she had allowed him to see her cry and how he had softly wiped her tears away before holding her tight long into the morning. "Five years together and at graduation time it came down to mother dearest's wishes or me and it was her all the way with the story being something about fulfilling a dying man's wish to truly learn the family business and something about an arranged marriage ordered to bridge some social gap. Who the fuck does that anymore?" These were words she had said before, at least as far as the content was concerned. She had failed to receive any answers then and sincerely doubted that she would be granted any now.
          Sampson sighed, biting at his already bottom lip more. "Marital obligations are a real thing, especially to my family. Something about strengthening the family tree and expanding their territory. That wasn't sprung on me until months after I had to lose you, but I suspect it was always a part of my grandfather's plan," he started in way of explanation. The words coming out in a rush as he lacked any true idea where he was headed, any idea as to how to say any of it properly. "Grandfather McDaniel was dying, is dead. His wishes lacked specifics about learning the family business. It was more of an ultimatum at the time. Either be cast from the family and any chance of work in my chosen field or leave what he declared to be a hopeless love, doomed to failure if I couldn't provide for you a life of luxury. That was his way of saying you were only into me for my wealth I guess." He added, feeling as if it was a futile explanation of the ways his family chose to operate.
          Ruby allowed the words to wash over her as she tried to piece things together one question at a time. "Did you think I was into you for your money?" She inquired, her voice husky due to choking back tears. Her right hand clenched into a fist to work out some of her tension, to level out her voice.
          Unknowingly Sampson mimicked Ruby's hand tactic as he churned thoughts over. "No, never. You were always out to prove that you didn't need me financially."
          "Then why the fuck did you do it?" She yelled out in question, pulling her fruity pajama covered legs protectively to her chest for comfort.
          Silence followed that outburst as Sampson sunk into his office chair, replaying that last month over and over again like a bad movie in his head. "Family... I know that sounds bad, but that's how it works. I thought I could please him and when he was gone I could come back for you. That's the deal I worked out with my parents." He finally stated, his voice muffled as he rested his face in the palm of his hands.
          "You didn't find me though. You could have told me what was going on and you didn't." Ruby whispered, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. Squeezing on to her legs tighter while she picked at the cotton fabric.
          "That was part of the deal with my mother. The less you knew the less likely you were to interfere, so she figured. After his funeral I did try to find you. Your number was disconnected, your parents wouldn't pick up on me, your best friend hated my guts and rightfully so. Still I looked... I went to old hangouts, drove around your home town, but there was nothing... You were suddenly a ghost." Sampson said with conviction, his baritone voice ringing clear with the truth. Starting the week after his grandfather's death he began his search for her, for his true love. While in Ruby's home state he had scoured every location she had every mentioned, had stopped in to pay her parents, who had once adored him, a house call. There was nothing left of her, even her parents had seemed unsure of where exactly she had gone.
          A ghost was an appropriate term for what Ruby had become. The move to being difficult to find had not been intentional, more her way of continuing on with her life plans that had already been mapped out. Fresh out of college, out of playing double duty with employment she had gone out to travel around for a while. Regardless of where she was going traveling was a small passion of hers. At some point she had found a state she adored and moved there without much thought, not even one or two about personally keeping her parents in the loop about her life.
          "They never told me," Ruby finally whispered, attempting to remember how far gone she would have been that first year. Far enough away to be a hard to reach call away from her parents, but close enough to keep in contact with her best friend. "Linette always did hate you more for that than I ever could," she mumbled more to herself than for Sampson's benefit.
          "I don't think Linette approved of me long before that," Sampson contended, unsure of what else to say at that moment.
          Ruby smiled for a split second, unable to argue with that statement. Where she was free spirited and normally quick to love the world her best friend was the opposite. Contrast that worked like a charm for the two of them. Linette would encourage Ruby to stay aware and connect with the real world around her while Ruby aided in the breaking down of Linette's tough outer shell. "When Linette and I moved in together you forgot I was allergic to strawberries and brought over chocolate covered ones as an apartment warming gift. That's when she started to like you as much even though she ate every last one for my safety, so she says."

The Disconnected Call

          "I keep thinking this will get easier," Evelyn murmured into her cellphone. Voice kept low to keep from disrupting the sleep of the people she lived with at the late hour of three am. "But then some part of him resurfaces in my life. Hanging around to keep me haunted for the rest of my life."
          "Ghosts don't go away because you want them to Sweet Pea," explained the masculine voice on the other end. "Not when you wander the world of the living so close to where they lurk." He continued on, placing hope that his words would come off as soothing even if they didn't quite come out that way.
          Evelyn sighed, exasperated with the whole situation, but feeling trapped with it indefinitely. A moment of silence followed afterwards instead of a single word of argument that she was sure her friend was expecting. Had this been any other time it would have happened, instead she was done with it. Not wanting to spend any extra time on a call that created more guilt to float around in her head. Except it was these very same calls, same little conversations that she felt guilty about that got her shakily through the day. "Where am I supposed to escape from him, from this?"
          A loaded question to add to their growing tension was how Bartholomew viewed it. He knew what he wanted to say about it, but unfortunately he had a sinking feeling that Evelyn wouldn't be on board with the idea. Regardless, the words churned over and over again in his head while neither of them spoke. "Move in with me," he finally said, straining to keep himself calm, collected.
          You're one of the ghosts I'm haunted by, Evelyn stopped herself from saying, rolling her rose tinted bottom lip between her teeth to halt the words in their wicked tracks. She had thought of the possibility before when their courtship first heated up before other parts of her life had begun to spiral out of control. "You know I can't," she managed to say, her voice trembling as she spoke.
          Bartholomew had expected this sort of response, but that didn't stop it from bothering him. It was one thing to expect it and then a whole different thing to hear the words aloud. Hearing it crushed even the smallest hints of hope. Despite this he forged ahead, steeling himself for the next part, the worst of it. "No, I don't... Not anymore... Why can't you do it now?"
          "It's not fair to his memory," Evelyn began, tensing up even more. It was as if mentioning this last tie into her ghost made the whole ordeal real.
          "I can't keep doing this... Especially when eventually you need to move on. I want to be who you move on with, but I can't keep waiting on the side lines like this for a day that might not come." There, he finally managed to say part of what he felt, now if only he had dared to say it earlier. Maybe then it would feel less like a death sentence to their lust turned love turned, well, he wasn't sure what anymore.
          Evelyn knew this to be true. One day she would have to brave the sun again and resume life as she knew it. This knowledge did little to aid her in the moment, especially when it was thrust into her face. "Then leave, get out of my life. You don't know what it's like, how much it hurts... How much I blame myself..." The last line a whisper followed by the sound of choked back tears.
          Bartholomew sighed, unsure of what else to say. He didn't believe that Evelyn should blame herself for a freak occurrence, but his opinion on the matter was moot. It had failed to ease Evelyn's pain the day of the accident and during the subsequent days, what use would it be now? "Then I guess this is goodbye. My heart can't keep being a rock for someone that's not ready to be one back... I'll always love you..." Bartholomew hung up then, unable to bring himself to hear her response, her defense. It had been difficult enough to speak the words aloud without immediately breaking down. With the call now over he slumped back into his recliner as he let loose his hold on his phone without a second thought. He couldn't even bother to glance over as it hut on to his laminate hardwood flooring.
          Meanwhile, Evelyn was left speechless as the call was disconnected. There had always been some unspoken belief of mutual love, but hearing the actual declaration was heart wrenching. This sudden vocalized announcement left her wondering if perhaps she had dismissed his suggestion too readily, too easily. Racing thoughts that pressed at the idea to call him back, attempt to salvage this. She didn't though, somewhere in the back of her head was a voice whispering it would be a poor idea that would only end in more tears, more heartbreak.