Why is the Sky Sad?

-A few hours earlier-

Emma reached out to Richard, her hands wrapping around his wrist. She pulled him close, her lips finding every inch of un-covered skin. She wanted to feel something- be with the one person that made her forget- that made her feel alive. But now that Maria was back in town, now that she had hit her with her car- she felt guilty for being with Richy. She loved him, but he was loved by another first.

She didn’t pull away; she couldn’t force herself to do that. She loved the way his heart beat erotically when she touched him where she did, loved the way his skin felt against hers. She was always the first to hold on, and always the last to let go.

Richard took his mouth away from hers; letting her kiss his neck, stay on his lap. But he was tired- so tired…

“James is alright?” He asked, staring out the window, at all the shapes and shadows that surrounded his mansion.

“Yeah, he’s in his room, reading some book,” she answered; only taking her lips off his warm skin for a second.

Richard sighed, thinking that maybe he should go see his son. He’d been though a lot today, this past week, his whole life. He needed a father.

“You didn’t forget why I hired you?”

Annoyed, Emma stood up, taking a step away from him. It wasn’t exactly a turn on to think about his son or the true reason he was paying her. Sometimes he talked too much- thought too much. The only reason she ever started making love to Richard was because it made her forget. And when he talked, she remembered.

She was disappointed when Richard didn’t even seem to notice her absence. She noticed his.

“Yes of course I haven’t forgotten,” she snapped, wrapping an arm around her rip cage. She was trying to make up for the absence of his warmth, but it wasn't really working.

“Then what does he say to you? What does he like?” Richard’s voice was urgent, hard. He had avoided talking to Emma about all this, worried that she'd storm off and not give him any answers. But it was about time- he wanted to connect with his son. And he couldn't figure out any other way to do it. Besides he was paying Emma thousands of dollars to be a friend to James, she should deliver.

“He loves books, absolutely adores them. He can spend hours just reading and living the life of a character," her voice was whimsical, almost wishful. "He loves discussing them too, although I can't really engage in it, I mean I haven't really read half the things he has."

She couldn't help but looking into Richard's eyes, seeing how he felt. It was almost painful for her to see how sad he was. So painful sad, she was even willing to lie. "You know, he loves you too- he just doesn’t know how to act in front of you or what to say. But he really does love you.”

Emma left out the fact that he was lonely- that he was so depressed and lost. That he was willing to smoke- that he got drunk just last night. And she had done nothing to make it better, in fact she had probably made it worse.

“Books you say?” That spark in his eye was back. All he wanted- all anyone wanted was to be loved.

Emma nodded, moving closer to Richard. It wasn’t working for her to be so far away when he was within her reach. So what if he doesn’t care- Emma needs him.

He let her kiss him, give him what he’d been craving. And when he said Maria’s name, he didn’t even notice.



Emma stood awkwardly just inside the door, not sure where to look, not sure what to say. She came here to spit out the truth, give Maria all that she deserved, or at least that’s what she told herself. But in reality she just wanted to hurt Richard as much as he had hurt her.

“I-I’m Emma, the one who hit you with my car,” Emma said, as quiet as she could without whispering, “James called the ambulance and made sure you were safe and I took off. I just wanted to come and make sure that you're alright.”

Maria nodded, her face giving away no emotion what’s so ever.

“Well, I’m alright.”

Emma got the feeling that she was no longer welcome, but that had been the easy part. And she had come this far- she would not- she could not back down. No matter how much she wanted to- she owed this to herself, to everyone in the whole crazy, messed-up situation.

“I need to tell you something else.”

Maria sighed, quite loudly, more to annoy Emma than for herself, motioning for the girl to sit in the only chair that the room possessed. It wasn't the girls fault that she was in a crappy mood. She could at least try to be polite.

“Well, get on with it, unless you'd like to leave." Or at least not be cruel.

Maria only tolerated this… girl because she knew from the one sentence James had said about her that he was in love. And she owed him, she couldn’t scare off his one shot of romance.

“I-I’m sorry. I was going to wait for a better time to tell you-” Emma wiped an imaginary tear from her cheek. She knew she was just as responsible for the affair as Richard, more so even, but for once in her life she wanted to be the victim. “Your husband’s been cheating on you… with me. God. I feel so terrible and I am so, so sorry. I was naïve when this all started and you were gone so I thought you guys were divorced and-”

Emma made a choked noise from the back of her throat, keeping her eyes trained on the ground. She couldn't fake cry, and she didn't want Maria to see the absence of tears.

“I am so, so sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I feel just as cheated as you.”

Lies. It was all lies. But Emma couldn’t figure out any other way to say it. She didn't want to be the bitch anymore. It was a lonely act.

“I feel so guilty. I just thought you had the right to know.”

Maria kept her eyes on the arm of the child, not wanting to believe her. But it really wasn’t that hard to believe because… because she had been gone for such a long time and their marriage had been dead before she had left.

Emma quickly left after her confession was out, leaving Maria to herself. They were both able to cry alone. Maria for her husband, for her marriage and child. And Emma for her life, her sister.

Maria didn’t want to do it- but she saw no other option. When she was dispatched, she didn't call her husband, but a cab. She didn’t know where she was going, she just knew she wasn’t going home.