February 10, 2003

•             The coffee tipped spoon slipped from her fingers land on the table with a clatter, making her jump slightly. He was coming, across the parking lot. Anger rolled off of him in waves, she could not only feel it but also see it in the set of his jaw and shoulder, in his step, and in his eyes. She frowned and brushed unconsciously at her lap, to remove the nonexistent crumbs from her hardly touched pastry. Shouting was very likely, and most probably necessary as much as she hated the idea of the violence, nearly as much as she hated the idea of the scene she knew they’d create. However, that was the reason for suggesting a crowded, brightly lit coffee shop, noise had always off-put and upset her and this time boded to be worse than ever.

  
  

              He was close enough that she could see his face clearly, hear his harsh breathing and feel the pulse of his heart. She rose quickly, attracting his attention and quite clearly shocking him. Look for the woman in black. She’ll show you what you want to know. That was what the note had said, it was not what she would have said but she’d had no choice, as was usual.

  
  

              “Jacob.” She attempted a smile of welcome, knowing it never touched her eyes and was barely acquainted with her lips. She held out her hand and he reached for it before stopping himself. Barely restrained rage was bubbling below the surface; she didn’t need even her smidge of empathy to feel it.

  
  

              “Who the hell are you? And what the hell do you mean by sending a note like that?” His voice was harsh, she flinched inwardly.

  
  

              “Sara.” She said, dropping her hand and seating herself awkwardly.

  
  

              “Sara?” His face, already pale with anger, abruptly paled even more and he dropped with even less grace than she into the chair across the table.

  
  

              Sara remained calm and managed to squeak out that smile this time. She settled herself more comfortably, fidgeting. “Yes, Jacob. Who did you expect?”
              He merely stared at her, slack-jawed, uncomprehending. Questions raged in his mind, nearly hidden by shock.

  
  

              “It’s been five years, you could at least say you were glad to see me.” She said, his silence beginning to wear on her taut nerves, “I’ve missed you.”

  
  

              And with that, he started to laugh a jagged, hurting laugh that illustrated his pain far better than any words ever could.

  
  

              “You’ve a lot of fucking nerve. Five years. Five goddamn years! You walked out of my life then, you can damn well walk right back out now.”

  
  

              Jacob stood up and prepared to walk away; pausing just a moment, he looked down at her, those cat eyes full of so much hurt that she flinched. As he turned, her hand snaked out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him down before he could try to stop her, not that he could have. He looked at her, uncomprehending for a moment and tried to pull away. She didn’t let go for a moment.

  
  

              “Do you want to live the rest of your life not knowing the truth?” She hissed, glaring right back at him, his anger finally infecting her, breaking her calm reserve. He stopped struggling and she released him. Her hands had left large red marks on his wrist. For all that he was nearly a foot taller and twice her body weight, he’d never stood a chance and he’d known it.

  
  

              “What the hell happened to you?” he said, staring into her eyes feeling suddenly shaken and nearly afraid, nearly ready to cry again, as he had so many times, “What the hell are you?”

  
  

              “I am what I always was, I just never knew it.” Sara said, looking down at her plate, breaking eye contact, “And I am what you will be, only much less so. They need you and that can be either very good or very bad.”

  
  

              “They?” He looked at her quizzically, “You’re evading and dodging like you always do. Answer my question! Where have you been? Why the hell did you leave?”

  
  

              All anger suddenly left Sara and she started to laugh, bordering on hysteria. “Gods above,” she said, “I feel like I’m trapped in a bad smutty romance novel.”

  • 8:46 pm
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