"...For as long as my forever lasts, I will continue to search for you, in all things, in every day I find myself breathing again."
This starts around part 5 of the show. I was unhappy with how it ended so I wanted to rewrite it the way I would've l...
"Jamies testimony is what destroyed my case." Her head fell, "but... there is nothing I can do about what other people say." I lean forward, my elbows rested on my knees and holding my chin. She looked so very small then, her shoulders almost narrowing by the second. I reached my hand to hold her face but just as I did, I decided against it. It's improper. She looked up once more, I couldn't discern her then. "And I remember when they told me his testimony I fainted and fell right onto the fence around the podium. It was almost spear like." Did she see doubt in me? Did she think I could not believe such a story? "I can show you the scar." She brings her slender fingers to her neck, undoing her buttons. My mind went blank, I wanted her to show me, my sleep kept me from stopping her. But as she reached the third button I snapped out of my trance. I grabbed her hand, looking her in her startled eyes. For a moment we only watched one another. I resisted the urge to brush her face as I did earlier while she was passed out. But this time I wanted to do so just to wash that concern from her expression. "Well, Grace, I can see that you are tired. We will continue your story tomorrow." She nods, "I hope we will have the strength." I smile, "yes, Grace, that would be ideal." She returns my smile softly and the strings tighten within me. I sat at my desk, deconstructing my notes throughout the past several visits. The tightened threads still will not give way and it feels sometimes as if they might pull so hard that it would restrict my airway. The room around me is so foggy and the words I read turn into nothing but burning twigs for every time I see them it sends sharp pain through my eyes. I must go to rest, but I cannot. I lean back on my chair and relief shudders through me when I feel my crumbled stature rejuvenate once again.
Grace stands in front of me, her hands clasped behind her. "What is it, my dear?" My dear? That is entirely unprofessional. "I have a surprise for you," she wears a radiant smile, the kind I imagined many times before when she told her stories of better times. I stood from my chair, walking toward her, suddenly standing only but an inch from her, my chest touching her slightly. I looked down at her, "what could that be, my heart?" What on earth? I mustn't be this close, let alone insinuating any romantic touch of words. She strains her neck up at me, resting her chin on my chest, "It is only something I have started working on," her cheeks begin to flush in embarrassment, "you may not like it now that I think of it."
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"How could I not love it?" I reach both my arms around her in an embrace, and feel for the item in her hand. Its fabric. A quilt square? When I pull it toward me, I see the pattern it displays. Two interlocked hearts, almost resembles an infinity knot in Celtic tradition. She looks down, fiddling with her hands, "I want to make more but this is only the start. It is meant to be you and I...interlocked." A smile grows on my face, and I glance up to her, "Grace this is wonderful." Her brows perk up, "truly?" I nod, holding her face with my hand and bringing her closer to me, to my face—
I wake up in a startle. My dream still fresh in my thoughts, I try my best at washing it out like the plaque in my teeth.
