by R.M. Haig
Part of her hoped he would just stroll through the door and pick back up where they'd left off... before the trouble started. They'd been together for eighteen years... it would be a shame to throw all of them away. Garrett needed full time care, would need it for the rest of his life. That was a daunting hill to climb, and she'd rather not have to climb it alone.
If he just walked in and said he was sorry, she thought, that he knows he dropped the ball... we could just put the pieces back together and carry on.
Even as she thought it, she knew it couldn't be real. She recognized that there would be no catharsis, no mea culpa in the cards. That just wasn't him... wasn't in his nature, not with all his stubborn pride. She had knocked the first domino, and there would be no stopping the cascade.
The rollercoaster was moving, now, though she had no idea just why. She could only ride the ride, holding on and checking Garrett's restraints to be sure that he made it back to the station unharmed. As she closed her eyes, exhausted, she saw the crest of the first hill approaching; heard the chain lift clicking faster, preparing to disengage the car. The drop would start any time, now -- the only question was how long the drop would be.
FIVE
