[TM] 278 - Wearing
Even before she crosses the courtyard to head toward the house they'd put him into she knew it wasn't going to go the way she thought it would. All those years slipped by, and now things were so different that it was never going to be the way she had hoped for. He was supposed to come back, there was a part of her that knew that all along, but why had he been so late?
It was foolish to actually blame it on timing, or lack of it, but she felt that there was blame somewhere lying out there needing to be assigned to something. It needed to be put into some sort of place so that she could rationalize it, or make it at least something she could agree with. Instead all she had was the knot in her stomach and the pang of guilt left in her heart.
Giving him up on the beach had been easier than knowing she'd chosen someone else. His blood on her hands and she had looked at Kate and told her what she needed to hear. Juliet wore that moment for more than just a while as she pushed through those long weeks on the island. Shut her eyes and breathed out those words in her mind thinking that if she hadn't said them... if she hadn't given up so easily she might've left with him.
Exhaling her fists clenched at her side, flexing muscle in her arms as she tried to steel her nerves more than they needed to be. In reality she should've been able to walk over there, tell him what was going on and be done with it, but instead she had this lingering question rolling around on her tongue. It was bitter against the back of her throat and one calming breath wasn't enough to settle it in her mind, it wasn't enough to push it back and forget about it.
Her choice of venue for the discussion wasn't the best of situations. Standing there before him with the knob of the bathroom door clutched in her hand, pressing to the small of her back. What was it about him that pushed against her very being so easily just by standing there? The woman that would've collapsed into his arms letting a soft sob break upon his shoulder had long since vanished from the island, and the shell that remained had learned to love another. The persistence of James had proven over time to be more than just companionship but a shared connection. Only now standing there before him the water running across his features did she remember the connection was over something lost.
Juliet used to wear her emotions on her sleeve, letting them hold her back, and weigh her down as she put everyone else before herself. Now as her words bit toward Jack she wished she could just strip away all the hurt and pain from the past three years. There was a longing that she still carried with her, a hope that somehow John Locke truly was going to save her.
John Locke had returned, but the only one left to save her was herself.
It was foolish to actually blame it on timing, or lack of it, but she felt that there was blame somewhere lying out there needing to be assigned to something. It needed to be put into some sort of place so that she could rationalize it, or make it at least something she could agree with. Instead all she had was the knot in her stomach and the pang of guilt left in her heart.
Giving him up on the beach had been easier than knowing she'd chosen someone else. His blood on her hands and she had looked at Kate and told her what she needed to hear. Juliet wore that moment for more than just a while as she pushed through those long weeks on the island. Shut her eyes and breathed out those words in her mind thinking that if she hadn't said them... if she hadn't given up so easily she might've left with him.
Exhaling her fists clenched at her side, flexing muscle in her arms as she tried to steel her nerves more than they needed to be. In reality she should've been able to walk over there, tell him what was going on and be done with it, but instead she had this lingering question rolling around on her tongue. It was bitter against the back of her throat and one calming breath wasn't enough to settle it in her mind, it wasn't enough to push it back and forget about it.
Her choice of venue for the discussion wasn't the best of situations. Standing there before him with the knob of the bathroom door clutched in her hand, pressing to the small of her back. What was it about him that pushed against her very being so easily just by standing there? The woman that would've collapsed into his arms letting a soft sob break upon his shoulder had long since vanished from the island, and the shell that remained had learned to love another. The persistence of James had proven over time to be more than just companionship but a shared connection. Only now standing there before him the water running across his features did she remember the connection was over something lost.
Juliet used to wear her emotions on her sleeve, letting them hold her back, and weigh her down as she put everyone else before herself. Now as her words bit toward Jack she wished she could just strip away all the hurt and pain from the past three years. There was a longing that she still carried with her, a hope that somehow John Locke truly was going to save her.
John Locke had returned, but the only one left to save her was herself.