Rejection

 It's Not Quite Catharsis, But It'll Do For Now

Photo by Some Tale on Unsplash

“There you are!” Her face lit up when she saw him.

“Hey.” Her happiness felt like a knife carving its way through him. It wasn’t too late. He could still walk away without a word.

Like he had the last time.

“Can we talk?” he asked instead, sitting down on the couch.

“Sure, what’s up?”

Looking into her expectant eyes, his courage failed him a million times in the seconds before he spoke again.

“I haven’t been honest with you.”

Her smile faded a little. “What do you mean?”

“I… I lied. When I told you I love you.”

She looked frozen, and for a moment, there was only the sound of their breathing.

“You don’t love me.”

“I… I would have. Maybe in another life. Maybe if I had never–”

“Maybe if you didn’t love her.”

His breath caught as he looked away from her.

“I’m sorry, Mia. I just… It isn’t that I don’t love you. It’s that I–”

“You love her more.” She was furious, practically sneering. “You worship her. You act like she’s some sort of God. She isn’t. She’s just… She’s like you and me.”

He looked back at her, his eyes tortured. “No, she’s not. I’ve known her a long time, Mia. I’ve carried my memories of her with me for five hundred years. And in all that time, I’ve never found someone to rival her. She’s… She’s something else. Someone magnificent, and untouchable. I can’t hope to be with her, but the least I can do is try and be worthy of her. After five hundred years, I owe her that much.”

“And this is how you think you’ll do that?” Mia’s voice was barely above a whisper, and fury lined every word. “By leading me on? By making me think that… That…” She trailed off, misery and rage writ large on her face.

“By being honest, Mia. By not being a coward. By doing things differently.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head furiously. “No, no. You’re not proving anything here, not to yourself, and certainly not to her.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” came a voice by the door, making them both flinch. And when he looked up, there she was, in all her arresting beauty, leaning casually against the door frame as though this were the most ordinary conversation in the world.

He swallowed. “Anna.”

“At ease, soldier,” she said coldly, as she sauntered into the room. “Do you believe me now?”

Her question was directed at Mia, who had buried her face in her hands, and was sobbing quietly.

“I told you he’d never love you. It’s just not who he is.”

“Only because I look like this!” she exploded, finally looking at her commander.

Anna raised an eyebrow at that. “Right. My bad. Go on, then. Why don’t you show him what you really look like.”