[She almost doesn't let him finish before she says it, the emotion finally breaking through all the walls she's been frantically patching just to keep it at bay this whole time. It feels selfish to be so singularly hurt by what he's done and she's fought it for years, trying to come up with a reason why he was right, or that she'd deserved this for not trying harder, and for a time she thought maybe she had finally put it down-- and now she finds herself sitting in front of him, faced with it all over again and wholly unprepared for the assault it mounts against her.]
And don't tell me you thought I didn't know you were alive. I was there! [She can feel her nails digging into her palms through the gloves, her eyes stinging, although she's not sure if the tears that want to fall are from grief or anger. Likely both.] Six years I've carried this secret for you, Jack! Six years knowing you were alive, somewhere, and not once--
[She stops herself short, the words sticking in her throat, choking her with their weight. Part of her wants to rail at him with every ounce of pain that tears at her heart. Something else demands that she throw herself at his feet and apologize for everything she couldn't do for him. And the whole of her is paralyzed in the middle, unable to properly articular what should have been so important.]
....ouch :|
[She almost doesn't let him finish before she says it, the emotion finally breaking through all the walls she's been frantically patching just to keep it at bay this whole time. It feels selfish to be so singularly hurt by what he's done and she's fought it for years, trying to come up with a reason why he was right, or that she'd deserved this for not trying harder, and for a time she thought maybe she had finally put it down-- and now she finds herself sitting in front of him, faced with it all over again and wholly unprepared for the assault it mounts against her.]
And don't tell me you thought I didn't know you were alive. I was there! [She can feel her nails digging into her palms through the gloves, her eyes stinging, although she's not sure if the tears that want to fall are from grief or anger. Likely both.] Six years I've carried this secret for you, Jack! Six years knowing you were alive, somewhere, and not once--
[She stops herself short, the words sticking in her throat, choking her with their weight. Part of her wants to rail at him with every ounce of pain that tears at her heart. Something else demands that she throw herself at his feet and apologize for everything she couldn't do for him. And the whole of her is paralyzed in the middle, unable to properly articular what should have been so important.]
I don't understand why you couldn't just tell me.