Thomas Hewitt: End Of The Line

Take Me Back

Luda's words had found a permanent place inside of Ronnie and they disrupted that stone cold exterior she had built around herself. They had made her question how swiftly she had shut Thomas out. During her time there, she had learned a thing or two about what hate could do to a person if left unresolved. She herself could feel it rearranging her own moral compass the longer her hatred for Hoyt festered. It had become more prominent what she deemed herself capable of now that it wasn't just her he threatened. After hearing what he'd done to Thomas, she knew in her heart he would want to do ten times worst to her own child. The thought alone conjured up images she hadn't thought possible for her to think. The simple truth was that Ronnie wanted him dead. He had taken her from her life and he had stolen the one she had found there. He was the definition of destruction, unobstructed and unchallenged. Brutality in its truest form and she was growing tired of watching him sit comfortably on his throne. If anyone deserved to be carved, it was him, only Ronnie wanted to be the one to deal his death. She wanted her hands to wield the tools in that basement and she wanted to be the one to rip that prideful expression right off the bone. As she lay in bed, she pictured it. She saw herself down there, transformed. She knew in her heart she could do it, if the opportunity presented itself. She wouldn't think twice in ending his life. She knew it would satisfy her, at least for a moment, but ultimately it wouldn't give her back what he had taken. That was something she was withholding from herself, something she had to reach within to find once more whether Hoyt paid for his sins or not. He had only lit the match, but she was the one who had taken it from his hands and burned the bond that had once existed between her and Thomas. She had given him his victory and she had been the one to cause that permanent grin he wore so frequently. She had allowed him to put her in the position she was in. She had so far removed herself from Thomas she hadn't the slightest idea of how to bridge the conversation she knew she had no choice but to have.

She sat up and didn't bother to check the floor. He always made sure to leave before she woke so she didn't have to look at him. Or perhaps he didn't want to look at her, she wasn't so sure anymore. So much time had passed with so much silence between them, but she couldn't wait any longer. It had already been too long since her conversation with Luda and her clock was ticking faster by the day. Thomas had to know before Hoyt and she feared he was close to uncovering the truth. He had been watching her closely with suspicion not so well hidden within his gaze. The fear of giving birth there was already almost too much for her to bear, but if the conditions in which she would deliver didn't kill her, he would. Luda was right, they had to leave.

She stood, wincing at the way her hips ached under the steadily growing pressure in her womb. Her legs felt brittle already, she couldn't imagine they'd be able to hold her when she inevitably grew heavier. She shook off the discomfort as best she could and began her daily descent down the stairs. She could hear the sound of the front door swinging open and figured it must have been Luda leaving for the day. She hoped whatever chores she'd left for her could be done from the comfort of the couch, standing was something she wished to avoid for awhile longer. She reached the bottom and rounded the corner, but quickly stilled when she saw him. He seemed to be frozen in place just as she was, they hadn't been in the same room in months. He looked as though he wanted to speak, his eyes met her's briefly and for a moment that same old excited gleam was ablaze within them until pain infiltrated, extinguishing any happiness that lingered. He quickly lowered his head and began to turn away from her again, just as he had done the last time he had seen her. Only this time, she spoke.

"Wait," she said softly, almost as if she hadn't intended for him to hear her.

She wasn't sure she did, but he had heard her and he slowly turned back around. The word had come out so quickly she hadn't even begun to think of what she would say next. It wasn't too late for her to turn back and retreat up the stairs, part of her wanted to, but they were alone. A rarity she assumed had to have been granted to them by some higher power that knew her time was limited. She had to tell him, but first she had to find her footing. It was strange to be so close to him after all this time and not reach for him. She was surprised at how much she wanted to, it only confused her further. She knew she missed him, she had come to terms with that, but she had thought herself stronger. Seeing him wait so patiently for her to speak was painful. The news she was about to share should have been something that brought them unfathomable joy. She wanted to find it, she wondered if he would. Thomas watched her mouth open only to close once more as she struggled to find the right words to say. His fists clenched at his sides, standing in front of her only exaggerated that great divide between them. It was beyond apparent that she found it hard to look at him, though she held firm in her saddened gaze.