The End is the Beginning is the End

I had waited too long; and now my chance was gone.

I watched her pack her bag quickly but silently as I stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame; unable to move to stop her. She wasn't angry, she wasn't ranting and raving or, throwing a fit like girls did in the movies. She didn't grab the picture of us - during our last vacation - off the night stand and throw it; she didn't tell me that she hated me. She hadn't even told me it was over yet.
Of course she didn't have to; it was etched clearly in every fluid motion of her body as she continued to patiently remove clothing from different parts of the room.
Every now and then she would stop - hands on her hips - and let out a sigh. I thought now, now's the time she's going to explode; but she never did.
"Veronique..." I mumbled like an idiot, still holding onto the door frame for support. She turned quickly then, the first sign of emotion finally boiling up in her as she held up her finger; signally for me to shut up.
I adverted my gaze from her icy look, instead turning my face to the wall across from her. My entire life in pictures.
Dating back from infancy to my Stanley Cup win; Vero splashed in almost all of them; smiling, happy, beside me.

I wasn't sure why this was happening, why now, why now? Kept repeating in my head as I stood on the threshold of our room, numb. I knew of course... you can't spend your entire life with a girl and never marry her. You can't date the same girl from almost ten years and expect her to stand by and watch her friends get married; to men they'd only known for 2 or 3.
She had asked me why, that was all. "Why don't you want to marry me?"; was the first thing out of her mouth when she arrived home, from yet another bridal shower.

I was an idiot. At least, when it came to my own life, I was an idiot. I was the go to guy, the one all the boys counted on for advice; the one they came to with their problems. I was rational, logical - everything you would want your advisor to be.
There was no one to advise me now.

She had finished packing by the time my eyes found her again. She pulled her bag off the bed, allowing it to fall with a dull thud to the floor before extending the handle and pulling it behind her. She past by me on the way out the door; I could feel the electric sparks fire through my body as that trademark intoxicating smell of vanilla filtered through my nostrils. I closed my eyes against the pain that was now expanding through my chest; forcing my body to crush in upon itself.

My footsteps fell in line behind her without my prompting; years of following the same woman will do that to you - you just know; when they walk you follow, that's how it works.
She stopped at the stairs, her tiny frame working to bring the suitcase behind her - without having it fall down and crush her. I reached out to help her, but her glare caused me to retract my hand; like a child who's felt the heat of a stove, after his mother's already warned him not to touch.
Don't touch, never touch again.

She pulled the suitcase harder, my attempt at chivalry causing her face to flood with colour, the same colour that means she's embarrassed, or surprised, or turned on. Not that the last one would ever matter again; the next man to hold my Veronique would not be me.
Somehow I ended up next to the door, I held it open as she stepped out onto the porch.
"Veronique... please." I half-sobbed, forsaking all thoughts of trying to maintain my dignity. I would grovel if need be.
She turned around without a word, giving me a small smile. "We can... you know, if you want. We can get married..." She shook her head as tears began to fall from her eyes.

"No Marc, not like this... I don't want your pity." She turned back around and continued off the porch; towards her car.

"I want to." I chased after her, "I want to marry you, Vero please." She didn't look up as she shoved her bag into the bag seat, speed-walking towards the driver's door.
She pulled it open and slammed it behind her, before backing out of the drive-way and speeding away.

I stood there in the driveway for a long time. Staring down the empty road, she has to come back...
At some point I realized that I needed to go back into my home. I walked up the walkway slowly. Pulling the door shut behind me as the silence screamed in my ears and I stumbled forward, blinded by the tears that were now falling without abandon.
This was nothing, this was a house. An empty house, full of her. Every colour, every picture, every piece of furniture was her. The place stood as a tomb for the life I once had. No, this wasn't a home; this was a grave.
Home is where the heart is, Vero is my home.
I sucked in a breath, trying to make the pain stop. Is it possible to hurt this bad? Maybe I'm in hell... I thought, then I realized I couldn't be dead.The throbbing sensation coming from my chest was telling me I was still alive.

My hands were pale and clammy as I reached for the hall-table, trying to keep myself on my feet. I stared down at the dark marble floor, the same colour as her beautiful knowing eyes; and watched as it came up the meet.