what happened in a small town

part eight

Moving from the girlfriend to the ex-girlfriend who can’t accept losing, the girl who takes another’s boyfriend, who deserves disgusting looks because she is a whore
A new status that was missing in her damned life.

She ran outside under the surprised eyes of the workers, many scenarios will be sweeping on the tongues, and it will be the main course of after-work gossip between friends over couple of beers, what happened to make that girl who is his ex-girlfriend run out of his office? and this is what will reach Ann who will confront her that her return will ruin their relationship and will hurt Harry again after she repaired his wound from her previous departure, and she will ask her to go away and that of course she will not give up the superhero toy that she fixed, and she will just look at him silently mocking because she does not have answers to this kind of talk, not because she is wrong but because it is so vulgar!

“Marla.”
She squirmed under her feet when she heard his voice, she raised her head, breathing heavily, she closed her eyes, wishing to control herself for another minute, real control and not what happened between them a minute ago in his office, she slowly turned her body towards him, he had followed her downstairs, she found him extending his hand for her bag that she had forgotten in his office, she snatched it from his hand, and before she turned to keep go of the place he said in a tone full of sincerity.
“I won’t talk about what happened but I hope you take the job if you really want to work, you deserve it and you will like it.”

She couldn’t meet his gaze, she looked to the right, her eyelashes falling silently over her eyes. He continued, and a glow of love that never died, ended, or was affected exploding in his eyes and voice. “I will love to remain the one who does everything for you, no matter what happens between us, and no matter what our Titles are for each other at the moment.”
Her throat moved and her tongue was tied from responding. Five years ago, she had turned her back on this love. She had seen him retreat from their dreams and live his mother’s dream and drag her with him to drown in it against her wishes. She could not do it for him, not because he did not deserve it, but because what they would have turned into was a traditional couple in a small town who were in love and then it became only life brings them together.

They would have been two completely different people, and this is what she had run away from stupidly because all the wise words were no use in the face of his affection, kinds, and his idealism in pleasing everyone, especially his mother.

She turned and ran, tears streaming down her cheeks with cruel calm. She ran until she was far away from the headquarters of the institution, where the company and the original laboratories of his father were, a world that he did not choose, although he continued to build it. She walked the streets under the afternoon sun, following the people who lived the same life every day and asked herself why she could not just be like them. Satisfied with the small-town life, with the repetition of the chain of relationships, why could she not accept the life of an American series from the fifties, steeped in idealism on the surface?
She returned to her aunt’s house after an hour of walking. She met some people asking questions to satisfy their curiosity regardless of their rights to it. When she passed through the gate, she found Joan smoking a cigarette, sitting on the swing, puffing her tobacco with a sullen, silent expression. If you looked closely at her eyes, you would find disappointment, misery, and despair gathered in her green pupils.

She sighed as she remembered the thing that she had also drowned her in against her will. She saw her messy appearance: faded jeans, a long shirt, rubber boots, and a low bun. She could guess where she had been and what she had been doing so early in the morning. It wouldn’t be her first time, and apparently, it wouldn’t be her last. She moved towards her with her shoulders drooping, sharing with her the misery. She sat next to her on the swing and sighed in a melancholy tone. “You’re doing it again.”

“What? Cigarettes?” She puffed the tobacco in small circles in front of her without looking at her.
“I imagine you never stopped smoking cigarettes.” she scoffed.
“Good thinking.” She stated theatrically, raising her hand forward, her lips pursed in mockery. “Do you think you’re braver than Jan? I agreed with him to quit smoking, but I didn’t, and he didn’t have the guts to tell me; he just pretended I did and ignored all direct signals.” She sighed, relaxing in her seat, her brows knitted in indifferent listening as the other continued to sneer. “He also didn’t have the guts to confront me about a lot of things.”
“So you tell him you stop by while you’re running your old morning errands.”

She hummed, wiping her face with her fingers as the other’s sarcasm pierced the edges of her mind. “I was telling you just now that you’re brave, no need to hide behind a veiled talk.”
“Are you high Joan?”
“Why? I can’t be honest unless I’m high?” she sneered.
Her eyebrows rose in surprise, followed by a scowl. “Yes; people in your position are not honest unless they are high or have an open relationship agreement.”

“Oh, there’s the courage again.” She cried with mock enthusiasm. She took a deep puff of her tobacco, forming wide rings that disappeared as soon as they appeared in the sun. “Does it include your position?” It wasn’t a real question, her brows knitting together in an initial lack of understanding that she treated with Explaining what she meant. “Weren’t you with Harry just now?”
Her throat went dry and the responses rolled off her tongue, allowing the other to continue her mocking bluntness. “Going to a man who’s in a relationship, and you know it, does not exactly put you in a good place to give relationship advice.”
She closed her eyes in pain, she wasn’t used to being in this position, she was never a traitor or a bad girl trying to steal a man from another, she shook her head rejecting the idea and remorse took hold of her, she pulled herself up from the seat next to her and hummed. “But I’m not using you to do my bad things so I can lie to good people.”
She gave her a cold look over her shoulder and then looked forward. “So don’t do it again, I’m not your fucking excuse, and I’m sure you were doing just fine before I got back; that’s what I wanted to talk about, not me becoming a relationship expert.”

She walked towards the house with steady steps, and before she got in, she turned to look at her from afar. “Believe me, this is the last time I want to interfere in someone else’s life and I am the last person who can give advice.” Then she simply blinked her eyelashes as she turned. “Goodbye, Joan.”

She disappeared behind the door that she closed, leaving Joan to exhale the last breaths of the cigarette between her fingers, and the dirty swamp that she had sunk her feet into years ago was pulling her lower and lower until she approached the bottom of its bottom, covered in filth, mold, and years of humiliation.
What happens in small towns is that the swamps don’t dry up.
**

Prince’s Palace in the Small Town.
The big classic house, the whole house is built in the classic style although it is very modern on the inside, three floors in addition to the ground floor and the roof equipped for parties and evenings prepared by Mrs. Helen, Harry’s mother, who was responsible for building this house.

Mrs. Helen is in her early fifties; she follows the latest fashions and trends. She is elegant, modern, and beautiful, and age has not taken anything away from her because of money and luxury, of course. You cannot say that she acts childishly or anything like that, she knows exactly what suits her. She smokes cigarettes, and this is the only unhealthy habit she has. besides controlling Harry, she only drinks orange juice mixed with vodka on occasion. She has noble English origins, which makes her arrogant beyond her innate haughtiness.

She takes advantage of the fact that she has English roots by putting the principle that family comes first, so Harry did not move to live alone like a modern American, perhaps because it does not make a difference to him, he does what he wants in a big comfortable house and the end it's his home which is inherited it from his father, but for her the matter is the most important in her life, she cannot bear life without Harry, she loves him very much, he is her only child from Eric, some psychiatrists can say that her love for him is a pathological love that is unhealthy for both of them, or that she treats him like a husband after her husband left, but she is his mother and no one will blame her because she loves her son more than normal, one of the advantages of being a mother is that your actions are always justified by the fact that you are a mother!