It had been two years now. Two years since she had seen him, since she had kissed him, since she had felt his arms around her, since she had heard his voice, and since she had been with the man she loved. He had left her quickly, quietly, with promises of love and commitment, and he left her with hope for tomorrow. Sara sighed softly as she looked at the calender. Today was they're four year anniversary. She knew it was time for her to listen to her friends, and that she should believe them, she knew she had to move on in her life. She'd had to face it, Joe was gone, he was dead. But for now, she would just spend one more day without him, one more day missing him, one more day loving him.
"Love, you have to let him go. He's dead, you know." Mick whispered, placing a sweater on her shoulders. Sara looked away from him as she snuggled closer into the sweater. She was always cold. Ever since she had left, she seemed to have caught a chill, one that she never could get rid of. She told herself that it was just the wet weather of London.
"You don't understand"
"Sure. I don't. But I love you, and I care for you, so I can't bear to see you do this to yourself." He argued as he opened a cabinet and grabbed a hunter green coffee mug. He poured himself a cup of coffee. He offered her a cup, she motioned to her own, and that it was full. Grabbing the sugar, he sat down next to her at the little round table. "Love," he said as grasped her hand, and waited fo her to look back into his eyes, "He's gone."
She looked away quickly, pulling her hand from under his, and got up from the table, placing her cup in the sink. "Mick, I thank you for supporting me as much as you have, you have put up with this more than any person should. But please, why don't we agree to disagree this time. You know we always fight over this. So let's just..." She looked back at him, with a smile on her face, tears in her eyes. "Tell me, how did that date go with that cute instructor from the gym?"
Mick blushed. "Don't change the subject now." He got up and crossed the room, placing his hands on her shoulders. Giving them a light squeeze, he continued "Putting this off won't make it any easier."
"I know, I know. Just please, give me a little more time." and she walked out of the kitchen and into her bedroom, pulling the sweater closer, as the door shut softly. Sara knew in all perfect logic and knowledge that he was gone, and even if he wasn't dead, he wasn't coming back for her. She had to move on. Her head knew that. But someone forgot to tell her heart. Sara still ached for him, and felt nothing for the few blind dates she had been coerced into by friends. Try as she might, she couldn't forget him. Turning on the water for the shower, she began to cry.
Mick's gaze lingered on her bedroom a little longer than necessary. He hated knowing she was crying in there. She was always crying in there. And because of that, he was not allowed in her room. She hated people to see her cry. Mick, the good best friend that he was, did his best to respect her wishes. But even he knew, she was close to cracking, and he hated Joe for it. It was his fault after all. His thoughts were cut short by a ring at the door. Sara's shower was going steady, so Mick resigned and rose to answer it.
"Listen, I'm sorry, but I can't really give you anything-" Mick stopped short when his eyes fell on the person at the door. He was tall, and dark, dressed in a dark long Joeet, worn, just as his slacks. He looked overall worn and beaten down. If Mick hadn't looked twice, he would have though he was a bum looking for a handout. But Mick knew better, and he saw who it really was. His eyes narrowed. "What are you-"
"You know, maybe I shouldn't have come here" the man interrupted, and turned to leave.
"Don't you go anywhere," Mick hissed, grabbing his elbow. "Why did you come? Now, on all of these days?"
"Look, I can't stay, I shouldn't be here- I shouldn't have even rung the bell, I wasn't thinking-"
"That's right, you weren't thinking, and now, that wonderful woman is wasting away in that room of her's, just waiting for you! You, of all people!"
The man looked up, his eyes alight "Don't speak of things, you know nothing of!" He turned to leave, but then seemed to change his mind, paused and turned back to Mick, his eyes racing with thought and rage. "Tell her... Tell her I'm sorry- actually, don't tell her I was here, just... Take care of her." And he was gone.
Mick sighed as he went back into the house and leaned against the door. How could he keep this from her? With her eyes so clear and honest. The bastard didn't deserve her, and she didn't deserve to be treated like this. He sighed again, and muttered "Straight people are crazy"