THIS IS YOUR FAULT…
Her fingers wouldn’t work properly as she tried to button her shirt; the quivering hadn’t subsided enough for them to be of much use, so she quit, deciding to just throw on her jacket instead. Eddie kept a small bit of distance, eyes on her then the ground, and back up only to fall once more. He didn’t need to speak to express his guilt; she could practically smell it on him.
But he spoke anyway.
“I hadn’t expected that.”
Perhaps it was her own guilt that caused the snappy comments that followed, but she didn’t linger long enough to examine it. “You knew what happened between he and I. You knew where I’d be and why I’d be here, and you came anyway.”
“Yeah, but Lou… I didn’t come with the intention of–— I wouldn’t’ve expected that we’d–—-”
“You shouldn’t’ve come. You shouldn’t’ve been here to comfort me.” She was blaming him for her own actions. “And you sure as hell shouldn’t’ve smiled at me like that.”
He grew quiet again, head hanging now, hands shoved in his pockets. “Maybe…”
“You shouldn’t CARE so much.”
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"Lou, you ever think about sending Eddie a post card or something?"
NOSY ANONS (UN)WELCOME | always accepting!
"We text. Sometimes." Rarely is the word she really means. "I'm sure he'd like more, but honestly? He's better off without that much of me in his life."
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