She left home. She left because he just didn't get it. He never really did though. Her son was gone and he never seemed to care. Just forget about him. That's how he always was though.
Diana folds her clothing, slowly layering them in her suitcase accordingly. She smiles at the picture of she and Natalie when they were both younger. Natalie in her lap as she read her a book. One of the normal times for her. Diana sighs, placing it on top of the clothes before zippering the entire thing closed.
"Are you sure you're ready to go back?" Jane, her mother, has her hands clasped, watching her from the doorway.
She glances up to her, thinking a moment before answering. "No…I don't think I'll ever be ready though. Not in that sense of the word at least." Diana sinks to the bed beside her suitcase, "This helped though. Thank you."
Jane nods, "I'm glad." She moves closer to her, sitting on the other side of the case, but not making any other movements toward her daughter, "Has she called?"
"Natalie. She wrote you a letter, but I opened it…and forgot to give it to you. She's happy…still with her boyfriend. Didn't say anything about Daniel though."
"I didn't expect her to." Diana smiles, "It's okay. I did speak with her. He's…broken, I suppose." She nods a little, "We both needed this. He's finally getting the help he needed and I'm…I'm okay." She grins, "For the first time, I think ever, I'm okay."
"I'm proud of you." Jane's delivery is blank, showing no emotion whatsoever. It's nothing different, she's always been like this.
"Thank you." She nods, "Is the taxi outside?"
"That's what I came to tell you."
Diana glances to the elder woman, "That's kind of important, don't you think?" She watches her a moment, getting up and kissing the top of her hair, taking her suitcase in her hand, and walking from the room.