The drive is silent, and she's okay with that. She normally wouldn't be, he's not a very silent person and it suggests that he's seething under the surface more than she's ready to bear the brunt of, but at the same time it means he's also not screaming at her or throwing her out of his car. It also gives her more time to think, though try as she might, all she can think of is Paris, and the easy way they'd shared a life together.
Walking out had been the hardest thing she's ever done, and the hard part now is that she doesn't know if she can do it again. She doesn't expect him to want her anymore - she's four years too late for that and he's sure to have moved on. A chill runs through her when she thinks that for all she knows he has a girlfriend now, a fiance, a wife. It's maybe unlikely that he'd be bringing her home this late at night if that were the case, it would require a lot of explaining, but she can't shake the thought. She's spent four years unable to settle down with anyone again.
There'd been a guy, just the one. His name was Étienne, and he would have been perfect for her if not for the fact that he wasn't Shea. She couldn't let go, couldn't give herself over, and eventually he'd walked out on her, just like she had. Afterwards, she'd sat on the floor in the middle of her apartment and tried to summon some kind of regret, some kind of anguish over the fact that she was losing another man, and she couldn't. She'd sat there, dry eyed, and that's when she realised that she was never going to have that all encompassing kind of love again. Sitting here now, she wants to cry just looking at him, and she doesn't know if that's better or worse.
They pull into the drive and she steps out, wishing suddenly that she wasn't still wearing the clothes she'd worn on the plane. She had planned to look nicer for their first meeting. Still, that's how it's ended up so she decides there's no use lingering on it, and follows Shea to the door. When it opens, there's a couple of dogs bounding at her, and her lips fall into an easy smile as she reaches down to pet one. They'd always talked about getting dogs, but the apartment in Paris hadn't allowed for it. She's glad that he has them now, at least.
She's a little dumb struck as she walks inside, staring around at his place. It's filled with a life that doesn't involve her.
"Okay," is all she can bring herself to say as he busies himself putting away groceries, and she immediately heads out for the deck. The quicker she can be outside the better. She feels like she's suffocating and feels unbelievably out of place in the house he's made for himself and no longer for them.
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Walking out had been the hardest thing she's ever done, and the hard part now is that she doesn't know if she can do it again. She doesn't expect him to want her anymore - she's four years too late for that and he's sure to have moved on. A chill runs through her when she thinks that for all she knows he has a girlfriend now, a fiance, a wife. It's maybe unlikely that he'd be bringing her home this late at night if that were the case, it would require a lot of explaining, but she can't shake the thought. She's spent four years unable to settle down with anyone again.
There'd been a guy, just the one. His name was Étienne, and he would have been perfect for her if not for the fact that he wasn't Shea. She couldn't let go, couldn't give herself over, and eventually he'd walked out on her, just like she had. Afterwards, she'd sat on the floor in the middle of her apartment and tried to summon some kind of regret, some kind of anguish over the fact that she was losing another man, and she couldn't. She'd sat there, dry eyed, and that's when she realised that she was never going to have that all encompassing kind of love again. Sitting here now, she wants to cry just looking at him, and she doesn't know if that's better or worse.
They pull into the drive and she steps out, wishing suddenly that she wasn't still wearing the clothes she'd worn on the plane. She had planned to look nicer for their first meeting. Still, that's how it's ended up so she decides there's no use lingering on it, and follows Shea to the door. When it opens, there's a couple of dogs bounding at her, and her lips fall into an easy smile as she reaches down to pet one. They'd always talked about getting dogs, but the apartment in Paris hadn't allowed for it. She's glad that he has them now, at least.
She's a little dumb struck as she walks inside, staring around at his place. It's filled with a life that doesn't involve her.
"Okay," is all she can bring herself to say as he busies himself putting away groceries, and she immediately heads out for the deck. The quicker she can be outside the better. She feels like she's suffocating and feels unbelievably out of place in the house he's made for himself and no longer for them.