#divinethedivine

"Hi," he sighs happily, then hesitates before taking the chair by her bed. "I - is this a good time? I uh, I passed your husband in the hall…"

"No, it’s fine," she says, and smiles. "He’s not my husband anymore. But it’s fine."

The man (his face is vaguely familiar) raises his eyebrows, but seems to think better of asking. Instead he says, “Sorry, I know you don’t know me, but… I’m the one who found your car at the town line, and I was in the search team and - just, I needed to see for myself that you were safe.”

Kathryn can feel the smile on her lips shifting into something much softer. “Oh,” she says, feeling truly touched. “Thank you. As you can see, I’m just fine.”

He looks her over and frowns, pretty obviously biting back a comment. Kathryn knows she looks weak, tired and sad - and she is, but she’s also determined. She finally feels true closure, she feels ready to take the next step as soon as she’s cleared to go. So it hurts, but it will be fine. Soon enough she’ll be perfectly fine.

“You look better than fine,” the man says, and then half a second later blushes bright red. “I mean, not like… just, you seem strong after all you’ve… I’m sorry, that was – I can just-”

He’s getting up to leave, hands gesturing awkwardly around him, when Kathryn bursts out laughing. And something about that feeling, the completely unexpected giggle tumbling from her lips – it feels good. It feels real, and present, and much better than fine, and she can’t remember the last time she laughed. It’s all a haze of drugs and fear or sorrow or worry or longing, and she suddenly wants to ask him not to go. Not to leave her.

“Wait,” Kathryn says, but it’s not necessary because he’s already stopped in his tracks. He’s looking at her mouth – at her smile, and he’s got a little smile curling up the corners of his lips too. Something about that has her biting her lip, trying to resist the impulse to smile wider herself, like they’re two mirrors reflecting endlessly back and forth. She breathes out quickly with her chapped bottom lip stinging against her teeth, then asks, “What’s your name?”

“Oh,” he says. “Sorry, I’m Jim, uh, nice to meet you.” He steps back towards the bed quickly and extends a hand. “I teach gym at the school, and I own a fitness shop.”

His palm is warm against hers and sends a little frisson through her skin. Kathryn feels warmth flush through her, wonders if it’s another side effect of the drugs she’s still detoxing from.

“Nice to meet you, Jim the gym teacher,” she says, and can’t help quirking her lips up as she shakes his hand firmly before letting go. “I’m Kathryn… but you probably know that.”

She doesn’t mention her last name. She’s been thinking about changing it back. Independence is something she craves, right now.

“Yeah,” Jim laughs. “After all that yelling it into the woods, I don’t think I could forget.”

“Right,” she says, smiling again to match his, and for a moment they just smile in silence at one another. It should be awkward, but it isn’t at first – not until there’s a noise in the hallway and Jim clears his throat, starts to say his goodbyes.

Kathryn nods politely and rests her head back on her pillows, and almost lets him leave. But the thought has her biting her lip again anxiously, the prospect of sitting here alone, entirely alone with nothing to do but come down off her drugs and think – it’s not a pleasant one. She wants to focus on the positives, on what she’s going to do when she gets out of here, if law school is still possible at this point or what she’ll have to do to make it possible if it isn’t. But she can’t help the sinking feeling that as soon as Jim is gone and she’s left alone, her thoughts will drift back to all the places she doesn’t want to linger on. That basement will feature prominently, and David, and Regina, and her big empty house and everything she’d wanted to leave behind…

“You can come back,” she tells Jim, feeling a little silly but also a little desperate. “If you want to. We could talk some more.”

He’s halfway out the door, but he stops at her words, and… the smile on his face is as bright as gold.

“I’d love that,” he says with genuine, almost intense, feeling.