Title: Now It's Done (2/3)
Characters/Pairings: Ten/Rose, Jackie, Other character
Prompt: It's me and the moon she says, And I've got no trouble with that, but I am a butterfly, but you wouldn't let me die, It's me and the moon she says -- Something Corporate, Me and the Moon
Author's Note: Beta by Sinecure
"Come to bed with me." His voice was calm, neutral. He didn't beg, he didn't plead. Just remained as understanding and patient as ever.
She couldn't bear to look at him, couldn't bring herself to look into his eyes and not see the hurt that should've been there. He never got angry with her, never lost his cool, never screamed and yelled at how unfair she was being to him. To them.
A hand landed gently on her shoulder. "Rose." He said her name like a prayer and she shuddered in disgust at herself for marrying him, for making a promise that she couldn't keep.
It'd been three months now, three months since their vows were said in front of family and friends, and still she couldn't bring herself to share a bed with him. It wasn't that she didn't love him. She did. Just not in the way he wanted. Not in the way he loved her.
He was a good man, just like her mum had said. And he deserved better than Rose could give him.
"We don't have to do anything you don't want to," he whispered, brushing her hair back from her face. "I lost someone too and I..." he swallowed hard before continuing, "sometimes I feel like I'm betraying her too."
It wasn't the same though, she thought to herself, burying her face in her pillow. He'd lost his love in a car accident, had her ripped from his arms just days after they'd married.
He'd lost the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Rose had merely misplaced hers.
Six months later and he was gone.
Rose didn't blame him, couldn't get angry about the decision. It was a long time coming. They barely spoke to each other anymore, only made love the one time, and afterward, she'd run from the room and cried.
He'd stuck around far longer than she expected, far longer than she deserved.
Removing her wedding ring, Rose placed it next to the photo of them laughing on her mum's couch, just weeks before he'd proposed and things had got complicated. There were other pictures, other memories carefully encased in frames, spread throughout their flat. But none of them meant anything to her.
Without a backward glance, Rose walked out the door, leaving their life behind.