Marin paused as she took her in, in her entirety. Julia hadn’t slept in days. Dark bags cupped her sleepless eyes. Her face was puffy, not from crying, but from the fear that held her down. Her clothes were stretched and baggy from being over worn, overslept in. Her hair was blatantly ill kept and fell in tangled twirls from her clip. She looked disheveled in a way she never had before. It was the picture of everything Julia Jenner was not.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her eyes turned downward in genuine concern. Her chapped lips parted slightly, words hanging on the tip of her tongue. How long did she wait outside that door in the cold before she rang that bell?
“I can’t do this, Marin.” Julia shook her head. “Not today. Not right now.”
“I’m sorry,” her raspy voice came out breathless gasp, desperate to say it before Julia closed the door.
“What?” she asked.
She heard her; she just couldn’t process the statement. She had to fight back the tears that threatened to make their grand appearance. Of course. Now she’d cry, in front of the woman who didn’t deserve her tears.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I’m sorry for everything,” she paused, hoping Julia would fill the space, but she couldn’t. “Please, let me in.”
Julia stood there, one hand across her stomach gripping her waist at the other side and the other still firmly on the door. She could close it. If she pushed it hard enough, Marin would have to let go. She’d ignore the doorbell and knocks that’d follow, and eventually it would stop.
“I signed your damn papers.” Her voice was quiet but layers of disdain could be tasted at the last note. “You’re free.”
Marin’s face winced at the word free, as if she wasn’t the one who walked out without another word, throwing fifteen years of marriage down the drain.
Julia wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to do this, that she could just leave. She was finally liberated; there was no more of her old bag and chain to weigh her down. She could live her life the way she’d always wanted, go after what she was missing, and there’d be nothing to hold her back. Not anymore.
“I never wanted to be free,” she sighed, her voice broken beneath layers of regret.
Julia didn’t know she was doing it, but she opened the door further so she could step inside. Marin hovered in the hallway, eyes glued to the empty walls that still hadn’t been cleaned. She looked around at the lack of decor, lack of her presence, lack of a life moving on.
“I’ll make some tea,” Julia murmured, walking to the kitchen as she rubbed her eyes.
She put on the kettle as Marin walked slowly from the entryway–her eyes darting across rooms and solemnly falling to the floor. She inched closer to the kitchen, her eyes scanning over the living room. Julia’s blanket and pillows were on the couch, ruffled and wrinkled, obviously used for days that blended together.
“Shouldn’t you be at work?” Marin asked, pulling her red hair behind her ears. She leaned on the island, gripping her shaking hands together.
“I haven’t been feeling well,” Julia answered reluctantly.
She turned towards the cabinet and took down two mugs. Her hand hovered over the ceramic one Marin always used–the one she couldn’t bring herself to get rid of–but she chose the green one next to it instead.
“Maybe you should see Dr. Rosel,” she suggested with good intentions, but Julia turned to her with a defeated look. A look of surrender? A look of exhaustion? “I’m sorry–it’s not my place.”
“It’s not,” Julia quietly agreed.
She placed her hands firmly on the countertop, her back to Marin. She closed her eyes tightly as a deep breath filled her lungs and the kettle screeched in the distance. She poured steaming water into both of their cups and set them aside to steep.
Leaning on the counter, she turned back to her red-haired beauty. Oh, how she missed staring at those ocean-depth eyes. Marin’s sweatshirt hung over her jeans, but they didn’t look basic on her. She was all her own, undeniably.
They stood in silence. Julia turned back towards the tea, dripping just a little honey into Marin’s.
“You remember,” she said and smiled as Julia slid it across the counter.
“I made it for you like this for almost twenty years.” Her voice was colder than she intended. “You don’t just forget.”
“Right,” she said as she nodded slowly, avoiding eye contact entirely.
“So, what is it?” asked Julia. “What is so important that you need to talk to me right now?”
Marin thought about her answer, turning towards the living room when words failed her. “Did you throw them away?” she said, motioning to the blank walls.
Julia just looked at her for a moment. She was going to give her another cold, feelingless answer. It was right on the tip of her tongue. Then she really looked at her. Her already thin face was sunken in, eyes not sparkling like they used to. When she pulled her lips up to smile, it was just slight and then gone.
“No,” she surrendered. “Never. They’re in a box in the basement. You can have them.”