Curate, connect, and discover
Since the moment of his confession, she had wanted something to make it better. Some word, some revenge, some idea...anything that would just make it better. He could offer her none of it. She knew he was sorry, but it wasn't a word that made it go away. It didn't bring the trust back or make her feel less unworthy; it didn't take the carefully crafted walls down or ease the self-talk that plagued her.
She couldn't leave him like this, even after everything. If any of the old Leyla was still alive, she had to care. She hated him, that was still true, but she loved him too. Not in the same way, that was long in the rearview, but people who made it to her heart never really left. Wiping quickly at her own tear, she started to reach for him but pulled her hand away like a flame that would burn. "You'll be okay," she murmured instead.
More of that poison-laced truth. If he wanted it, then why didn't he? That elusive why continued to taunt and torment her. "I'm having trouble believing that," she confessed honestly because it was all she could say. It still felt like her fault. You're too difficult, Leyla... "Maybe you're still just looking for something." Something not in her.
Her heart caved in as that question struck her with a million memories. Hands shaking, fork nervously tapping the plate, 'it's not the food' she would sob as if he didn't already know that. He was a great cook, and he never took any offense when she struggled to eat whatever he made. What do you need from me? When she looked too long in the mirror, counting every flaw. What do you need from me? When her mother called and made some fleeting jab of a remark. What do you need from me? "We're adults, there's no need to avoid each other, it's a small town," she said, leaving all emotion out of her voice. Her questions seemed pointless, and she wasn't sure if he had any more answers. But it came out anyway. "Was it...exhausting to love me? Was it too dark? Did you just need light?"
It was on the tip of his tongue again—another apology, trying to flee his parted lips and find her. Apologizing for apologizing too much was one of Vitus's most stubborn habits, formed over the last few years. He swallowed the rest of his I'm sorry's, forcing the horde of them back down into the core of his body. Leyla didn't want them anymore. Maybe she never had.
Here they were, both crying because Vitus hurt her ten years ago, and yet. Leyla was the one being patient with him. Guiding him back to some semblance of calm, the same way she used to. Deep breaths. She'd told him that when he stumbled home and splintered into a thousand sharp pieces after seeing his mother for the first time in years. As he had back then, Vitus followed her voice, drawing and releasing each breath one at a time. It helped. Of course it helped. And the fact that he'd burdened her with caretaking here, now, with him of all people, only drove the guilt deeper into his chest.
"I know, how it made you feel. How it made you doubt. But I did want to be faithful to you. I swear, I did. I've always wanted to be that guy." The one who could leave home for days at a time and think only of the connection waiting for him there. The one who didn't become excited, in some small part, whenever he cheated on someone. Vitus wanted the happily-ever-after kind of love, just never knew how to hold onto it long enough to make it last. She was right—he needed to figure it out, for the sake of every partner he'd ever hurt and every one he might still hurt down the line.
"What do you need from me?" He had asked her this question before. Intermittently throughout their relationship, as she struggled to look at the food on her plate or keep the future she wanted within sight. Back then it had been a matter of supporting her through personal troubles. This time, it was a matter of yielding to her amid the mess he made. "I can... answer any questions you have. I can steer clear of you around town." Intentional avoidance would heap more pain atop his shoulders, but this wasn't about him. "Whatever you need, Leyla."