The more tenuous the ties that hold us together, the easier it is to say goodbye.
~Julia, 'Harbour of Love'
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The sun has deserted me, succumbing to the darkness of night, while I lie awake, beset by the crushing weight of my thoughts. Despite Ryder's calming presence beside me, his warmth and soothing breathing, my mind refuses to quiet, and my soul remains restless. I escape to the bathroom, seeking solace in the silence and solitude, and envelop myself in a towel, a fragile attempt to conceal my vulnerability. The darkness closes in around me, a reflection of the turmoil that churns within, and I'm left to confront the shadows that haunt me.
As I stare at my reflection in the mirror, a stranger gazes back at me, a ghostly apparition of my former self. My skin, once radiant and full of life, now appears pale and drained, a canvas bleached of its vibrancy. My eyes, once bright and sparkling, now tell a tale of sleepless nights, of endless tears, of a soul tormented by heartache. I sigh, and the sound echoes through the silence, a mournful cry.
I am a shadow of my former self, a mere specter of the girl I once was. No wonder Dally didn't recognize me; I, too, have lost sight of the person I used to be. Tears well up in my eyes, and I let them fall, mourning the loss of the girl I once knew, the girl who was full of life, of laughter, of love.
I wash away the remnants of my tears and the smeared makeup that clings to my skin. The bathwater fills, and my hands instinctively cradle my belly, a gesture of comfort and protection, but I force myself to let go, to release the lingering hope that still clings to my heart. "Get a grip," I whisper sternly to myself, trying to shake off the pain that threatens to consume me.
As I sink into the warm bathwater, I feel my tense muscles begin to relax, and I let my eyes drift closed. But the moment I do, the images I've been trying to ignore come flooding back: Dally's lips on Sylvia, the deadness in his eyes, the betrayal that cuts like a knife. A muscle in my back twitches, feeling like it's tearing apart, and I try to shake the vision from my mind, but it lingers.
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I stop by the Curtis home before the funeral. I stare at the house and try to work my way up to do it, to knock, but my feet seem to be glued to the steps, I can't walk any further. I force myself to take another step. 'What am I doing?' I think to myself. I can't do this...not right now. I turn around, but just as I do, I hear the door open.
"Ma'am? Are you lost?" Soda asks, my back still facing him. I bite my cheek and turn around, meeting Sodas blues. He stares at me in disbelief. I watch every emotion appear on his face, confusion, hurt, anger.
"Charlotte?" Soda's voice is a mix of disbelief and hope, as if he's unsure if it's really me standing before him. "Is that you?" He takes a step closer, his eyes scanning me from head to to. I fidget with my purse, my hands trembling slightly as I nod in response. My mind races with thoughts of what he must be thinking, how he must be feeling. I wait for him to speak, to yell at me, to say anything, but the silence between us grows thick.
He takes a few steps more, his movements slow and deliberate, and leans against the railing, his eyes never leaving mine. We just stand there, taking each other in. I can feel his gaze like a touch, probing, searching, trying to understand. But he says nothing, and I'm left to wonder what's going through his mind, what emotions are warring within him. The silence is oppressive, a physical force that presses upon my chest, making it hard to breathe.
I clear my throat and begin, "I'm in town for a funeral...I wanted to stop by before I left."
He pressed his lips in a harsh line, and finally speaks, "Nice of you to say bye this time." His tone cold. I deserve this.
