Turn of the Wheel

***

She's calmly eating her sister's wedding cake and chatting with one of Ellie's resident friends when she looks over at her boyfriend and realizes that he's not looking at her.

It's not really an odd thing, per se. He's talking to someone she doesn't recognize. A woman who's probably one of the gaggle of dignataries her father had flushed up for the White House Wedding. Charlie was laughing. Smiling at her. Actually listening.

And in that moment, she realized that he hadn't looked at her that way for months.

Something in her went cold then. A hard little ball of ache that didn't dissappear with the rest of her conversation, or when the woman Charlie had been talking to walked away and joined her apparent date.

And it didn't leave when he turned to look at her, or even when he smiled. Because he wasn't smiling.

She'd waved back at him then. A little flutter of the hand, before turning to finish her cake.

A few minutes later, he came over. Settled in comfortably next to her, stretching his lean frame out into the padded chair and ran a hand along the curve of her exposed shoulder.

She shivered, wondering if she'd remember the feeling of this man's hands on her for the rest of her life. Knowing that she will and that this moment, this moment before everything crashes down and ends is another thing she'll remember for the rest of her life. And she hates it.

"You okay?"

No. No, she's not. She's getting a taste of what she did to this man, so many years ago, and she wonders that he could even speak to her afterwards. Remain polite, remain in love.

She takes a hitching breath, hurt that the only thing that's made him fall out of love is just being with her.

"You don't love me. Not anymore."

Her words are flat, brokering no argument, and his hand stills on her arm for a second before starting to move again.

"No. Not the way I should." Her heart breaks hard and quick, because he isn't lying to her on this. And that makes her love him just a little more.

"We're over again, aren't we?" She doesn't want to cry. Not here. Not at her sister's wedding. But she's going to. "We're done."

His lips twitch a little and for once she wishes she didn't know this beautiful, beautiful man so well. Because the way he's looking at her isn't something she wants to recognize. And the little dark part of her that's been waiting for this is tapping her on the shoulder and trying not to laugh.

"I'm sorry we started this again," he says, and she flinches. He brushes the tear that breaks free away and off her cheek, and for an instant she leans in to his hand, trying to absorb as much warmth as possible before its gone. "I had to know."

She chuckles, but even to her it sounds watery and raw. "And now you do."

"Now I do."

And it's only after she feels him leave, hears the squeak of his shoe as he moves away from the table, that she opens her eyes.

His chair is empty.

-fin-

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