bullshit mid draft-one writing go
"I used to be a lawyer." It's sudden; you try your best to nonchalantly move your hair out of your eye when you turn to look at her. She never talks about herself, especially not unprompted. You're surprised.
"Yeah?" "I failed my first bar exam. Spent weeks agonising over it after. Took it again, passed, got liscensed." There's an odd silence when she stops. She looks uncomfortable; rolling a pen between her fingers while she stares at her notepad.
"...I had a husband." Pause. "Before all of... this; I met him at a friend's wedding. We were the only two people with the same eye colour, and he thought that was interesting." She grimaces a bit, eyebrows creasing as she flicks through various pages. "Spent nearly nine years married... and then I went to... I guess the wrong place on a hike once and... ended up in Otherside.
And... I mean, I tried to... ignore it. But it's one of those things, really. Accidentally traveled between universes on a Saturday afternoon and... I didn't want to tell him. Because what if he thought I was... I don't know, crazy? What if I brought him to where it was and nothing happened? I felt fine, beyond the knowledge of everything so... I just didn't tell him. I liked my life. I didn't want to risk it."
Her hands have stilled, pen resting on the notepad on the desk in front of her.
"He divorced me. He asked me what was wrong, said I'd been acting distant, weird... And at that point, I just. Couldn't tell him. No matter how much I wanted to. So I lied. Told him I was cheating on him, that I fell out of love with him some... arbitrary amount of time before. Because how are you supposed to explain to your husband that you've been hiding the knowledge of an entire other universe from him because you... didn't trust that he'd believe you.
And looking back on it now that makes no sense... he would've understood if I explained it to him but... it was the only way out that I could really think of. None of this" She makes a broad, sweeping motion with her arm, swiveling around in her chair. "was even an issue. As far as I knew, he wasn't really in danger. But I didn't tell him. I couldn't tell him. I don't know why."
She loosely crosses her arms, leaning back in her chair to stare at the ceiling. She looks so tired; there are small strands of grey in her hair, now, that you've never noticed before. You don't really understand why, but it scares you more than anything else has so far.