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« - Why are you doing this ? Why are you doing this ?
- Sorry »
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It's been a month since he left her in that same parking lot. He asked her on a date for the first time. They saw each other every day at work and kept it professional—nothing more, nothing less. It's been a month, and she's still trying to figure it out. It's been a month, and he's still trying to not say sorry every time he meets her alone in the corridor. It's been a month.
Angela asked him "why, but he never answered the question. Why ? Because he doesn't know himself. He spoke and thought afterward. Too late, maybe. What should he do then? Go to her place and say how stupid he was to not think before talking? That he had to deal with a lot of things, grieved some of them? That night, he went to his place, opened a bottle of whisky, and went to bed after a few drinks. Looking at the ceiling, he was thinking of her, thinking of the pain he put her through. It was not supposed to end up like that; it was not supposed to end up at all because he had plans with her. And you know? What does he have? Nothing. Yes, he has to fix himself; maybe get some help, but what if she was exactly what he needs? He didn't break up with her because he didn't love her anymore; for sure, he still loves her. He broke up with her because he wanted to protect her from him. Such a dickhead," he thought.
He left her speechless in that parking spot. She looked at him leaving the area and stood here for several minutes. She was lost. After being ghosted by him, after yelling at him, after helping him no matter what, she was the one who was dumped. She loves him. She was the one stressed about ruining the most important relationship of her life, but he said it was worth it to give it a try. She trusted him. She can't stop asking her why. Why did he do this to her, to them, and to him? She got into her car and drove to her apartment. Tamara was here. She looked at her, said, It's over; he dumped me," and went to crash on her bed. Hopefully she dreamed of falling asleep in a second, but no. Tamara joined her that night, not asking anything; she was just there.
It's been a month, and it's still hurt.
Today, she's ridding with Angela. She asked for Lucy. The road was silent until the detective talked first.
A - Lucy? How are you?
L - Fine
A - No, I mean, how are you?
L - Still trying to figure it out and understand why.
A - Did you guys talk?
L - Don't want to talk with him now.
A - Maybe you should
L - Please, Angela, can we stop talking about this and him? He broke up with me; he's done with me; I got it. He left me on a parking spot after kissing my forehead and gave me the wrong reason to leave me. Do you really think I'm ready to have a conversation with him? I still love him, Angela. And it hurts every time I see him. So, please, can we move on to something else?
They both ended this conversation to start another one. They worked on several cases that day. And finally, I went back to the station. Tim was there. He looked at her deeply and finally went back inside. Angela saw him. She turned back at Lucy.
A - He still loves you, you know that?
She looked at her, put her hand on Lucy's shoulder, and entered the station.
End of the shift. Lucy is now home; Tamara is not here. She is alone. She's opening a bottle of white wine, and she sits down on her bed. What a day! She loves her job, but sometimes it's exhausting. Her phone started to vibrate. She looks at it. New message: Tim. What the... Why?. Does she want to read it? Maybe. Does she want to know what's inside? Maybe.
« New Message: From Tim.
Lucy, can we talk?
Nothing more, nothing less. After one month, It's been a month.
