Hart and Soup.

Goose Chase

A sharp clatter of the piano keys ended the complex song Hannah played.

Sarah tried to not regret how even her name brought confusion and discomfort to the young blond. Failed, miserably.

Sarah's body stayed still, emotionless, professional.
Her mind was in the process of crashing down.

She kept her eyes locked on deep red hair and wild green eyes, desperately trying to come up with a reason on why she was here. Or, well, at least why she saw Hannah, and did not bolt out the door.

Calmy, with a sharp snap of her voice and gleam in eye, she responded,

"There was no way I could've known she was here. I definitely was not entering a bar trying to stir something up, me, of all people, would avoid that Mamrie. Now, I've really got to be-"

"No."

Hannah's voice was different than she remembers. Hannah's voice was a gentle, calming group of phrases that held insightful inferences. Not this. Not stinging phrases, that found a way deep into any closure that weekly built a defense around your heart.

Sarah doesn't mind much.

Those defenses were made to shatter from the start, now that she dwells on it.

"You are going to stand there, and you are going to explain yourself. Honestly, I understand of this is difficult for you, considering you failed miserably at explaining anything five years ago."

Sarah would like to think that she did not play a hand in changing Hannah for the worse. She doesn't know if her mind would lie to her for her own good.

She continued. Her facade lost a bit of itself, and some slight emotion caught in her voice as she continued.

Her eyes avoided the young blond.

"I came in here for alcohol Mamrie, what, do you honestly believe I was on a 5 year long goose chase for the person who loved me?"

That was it. Those words, they brought a few gasps, and Hannah lost all color in her face.

Mamrie closed her eyes for a moment, and seemed as if she was trying to comprehend why those words were said. When she re-opened, her irises held some defeat, not in the 'embarrassed' way, more so the, 'you've caused enough trouble, you really did not have to go there.'

Mamrie opened her mouth to speak. Hannah beat her to it.

"It was the 23 of January. It was a rather brisk evening, one of the coldest we had recently. I overlooked the bitterness with my usual optimism, Sarah."

You shouldn't have.

" It was about 7:00 when you came home to your apartment, if my brain does not deceive itself, and when you immediately started the conversation with, "It's over." I, well, I honestly didn't see those words coming. Of course, I objected. Of course, you handled it all in a business like manner, you handled my feelings in a business like manner, and it was over. Somehow, now, I was able to recover."

And then, like wildfire, anger fled it's way through Hannah. Her eyes burned. Her jaw clenched, and her hands formed fists as she looked Sarah up and down. Hannah never got mad at Sarah. It was always the other way around. She'd make a mistake, Sarah'd be mad at her, they would move on. And so, five years of pent up anger found a way through her mouth. Sarah watched, in anguish.

"It's been five years Sarah. And you have no right whatsoever to enter my bar, owned with my friends, and bring back the time you broke my heart! You have no right! None. So, you should get the fuck out of the one place that seems to make me happy, and you should go back to being an emotionless bitch to your students, maybe, I don't know, break somebody else's heart while you're at it, and leave me alone! I am done with the existence of you in me life. I. Am. Done."

Hannah could not have been more wrong.