More Dialogue (Alternates)

“Hey.”
“You wanted to meet me?”
“Only for a sec. I won’t take up too much of your time.”
“Go for it.”
“Listen. I know every year, around Christmas and New Years you’re about as functional as Lor with a case of Glenmorangie, and I know the holidays hit you like a mack truck full of bricks, but I need you to tone down your concerned snark, when it comes to Grace.”
“Excuse me?”
“The way you want her to do what you say, so you say shit to her that’s fucked up, in an attempt to make her see your way?”
“Listen, Deosar, I don’t know what you think I’ve been saying to her–”
“Shut up, Brightman. Let me finish. I didn’t come for a discussion.”
“That’s your problem, you know. You want everything your way, without excuses or explanations. You’ve been that way since your father was alive. Since you were a child. You’re spoiled, and that’s how you lost Annie to begin with.”
“You done now?”
“No, I’m not fucking done. You’re an irresponsible toerag with a penchant for indulgence and hedonism, and you finally pushed someone too far and then you had to pay the consequences, but shit, she had to pay for them a whole lot more than you.”
“…”
“…”
“You’re out of line.”
“…”
“Takes a man to admit it. Want me to give you a second to find yourself?”
“…I’m listening.”
“I fucked up with Annie. I treated her like shit, and I was selfish, and I have spent the last two decades of my life searching for her forgiveness, but you know what? Annie’s gone. Annie’s gone, Simon, and she can never forgive me to my face. But she loved me, as awful as I was to her. And I loved her, as awful as I was to her. And I know she’d have forgiven me, by now, if not long before.”
“…”
“The same way she’d forgive you.”
“…”
“Now let Grace be, Simon. Let us be, and forgive yourself. That’s all I’m saying.”
“…”
“I gotta go. Let me know when you need us packed.”
“…right.”

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
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