|How to Save a Life
Author: The Mischievous One PM
Short story about what can happen when you don't tell the one you love how you really feel.Rated: Fiction T - English - Tragedy - Words: 723 - Reviews: 6 - Favs: 4 - Published: 04-27-06 - Status: Complete - id: 2162904
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
She watches him from across the dinner table but he pretends he doesn't notice. He finishes his meal and leaves his plate for her. Her eyes follow him as he walks into their bedroom. Minutes later he walks out dressed for the night out on the town.
"I'm going out." he says.
"We need to talk." she tells him softly.
He sighs and stares longingly at the door. "Now?"
He sighs again and crosses the room. He sits down and stares. "Well?"
"What happened to us?"
"Nothing, we're good. Are you done?"
"Something changed John. You're different now. Is it because I said that I love you."
He winces. "No."
"You're lying again. Why are you lying to me?"
He stands up quickly. "What's with all the questions Lisa? What do you think I'm cheating on you? I'm not!"
"I don't have time for this!"
"NO LISA! We're done talking."
"Where are you going?"
"None of your business!"
She winces when he slams the door. It wasn't always like that. Once he was warmer to her. But ever since she said those three small words, he'd been distant and cold. She missed him. She had regretted moving in with him ever since she told him.
She wouldn't take the words back though. She meant it. Every word. She loves him more than life itself and wants nothing more than to be his wife and have his children. She'd dreamt about it for years now. They didn't share that dream.
"Why can't you love me?" she asks to the empty apartment.
Of course there was no answer.
She cleaned the dishes and washed them, occasionally staring at the door longingly. She tided up the way he like the apartment to look and vacuumed, hoping she didn't disturb the tenants under her. When she was done she turned on the TV and watched Letterman.
She dressed for bed and lay down on his side, inhaling his scent. The clock read 1:30. she couldn't do this anymore. She couldn't sit at home alone while he went out to do whatever. She couldn't lie in bed silent as he came home reeking of another woman's perfume again.
He didn't love her. He never would. That wasn't going to change. She got up to pack and shoved as much as she could into her suitcase and put it at the front door. He won't notice it. She knew he wouldn't.
She practices her speech over and over. She looks at the clock. 4:00. She's still practicing when the front door opens. Crawling into bed she chickens out and rolls onto her side and hides her face. He looks her over and smiles, thinking she's asleep before stripping down to his boxers and climbing into bed. Minutes later she listens to his snores.
The next morning when he wakes up she's gone. A note is on her pillow, saying what she couldn't earlier that morning. He leaps out of bed in disbelief, searching for her things. He can't find any of her things. He runs out of the apartment, down the hall to the stairs and down to the street. He didn't care who saw him in his boxers.
Her car is at the stop sign. He cried out her name and started running for her. She didn't hear or see him. she pulls off into the intersection when out of nowhere, a truck runs through the intersection and plows into her SUV. His heart stopped.
He watches in horror as her car flips over and over before bursting into flames. He tries to run to her but someone is holding him back. He can't get away. He can't get to her.
"LET ME GO! LISA! I LOVE YOU! NO! LET ME GO!"
He sinks to his knees and cries. He should have stayed to talk. He should have been brave enough to tell her how he felt. Now he couldn't. He was too late. He would have stayed up all night if it would have saved her life.