andhiswife | (Reply)

She doesn't want to talk about it, but she doesn't have much of a choice. She owes him an explanation. But it's more than that, she realizes, heart sinking: he deserves to know what's going on so he can decide how he wants to respond to it all. Jordan's already lost her mother. Greta had once thought it could only do the girl good to have more caring adults in her life, but now? Could she really blame him if he wanted to start weaning his daughter off of her now, while it's still possible to do it gently?

The thought is nearly enough to set her off again, and it's a visible struggle to hold herself together. But then she nods. "I think I have to."

The groceries are set on the counter, but not unpacked, and she considers trying to make tea before giving up on the idea. If she prolongs things, she might lose her nerve. Part of her wants to; he'd think she was mad and probably worry about her, but she could still cling to what they have. But that wouldn't be fair to him or to Jordan, and she'd feel horrible for that. So she shuffles over to the couch and sits, waiting for him to join her before she starts to speak.

"I met someone who knows my story." That part's almost easy, as well-worn an opening line as 'once upon a time.' It's the rest of it that's hard. She never knows what to emphasize: the simple truth of it, her own reasons for asking, that Jesse didn't mean to hurt her. "And I asked," she continues, already on the verge of tears. God. She hurries onward, "I just--I just wanted to know if they were all right, my family and--and the children. And they are, but I..." Her throat closes around the words. She hunches forward, her hand over her mouth and her arm curled around herself, as if she might be sick. As if he doesn't have enough to deal with. She takes a few deep, ragged breaths, then lifts her hand to her forehead. "... I fell." Now the tears come, and she buries her face in her hands, defeated.