This Is How It Works, It Feels A Little Worse
Ashley had spent the majority of the holidays drunk. Her husband's family had gotten her daughter for the holidays, so she spent it alone, wallowing in her Upper West Side apartment with a Central Park view that she'd maintained in the separation.
When shots rang out, she hit the ground and could only think of seeing her daughter's face again.
Sophie is the single greatest thing she's ever done with her life, the only good thing, really. In the shuffle, she was thrown down the stairs, injured - but nothing serious. She met Dean's eyes on her way out of the building but doesn't approach him. She watched in horror as her ex-fiance is rolled out of the building on a stretcher. She allowed herself to be treated on the scene, but nothing else. There's a sprained wrist, a few bruises, nothing that is an emergency or life threatening. The first responders have better things to do than tend to her, she told them.
She and Leona nearly came to blows when she arrives at the hospital, but she was able to enter his room briefly. She did not apologize, or promise him that she would be a better person - because she cannot keep that promise. Their relationship was toxic, and ended when it should have as unpleasantly as it was. She does admit, despite the fact that he cannot hear her, that he is a stronger man than she ever gave him credit for.
Later, she set the clocks forward by a few hours and told her daughter it was New Years so the little girl wouldn't stay up too late and tucked her in by eight o'clock under the guise of it being after midnight. She poured herself a glass of scotch and watched the ball drop. Her phone rang.
Dean.
Ignore.
Happy New Year, she thought, raising her glass to an empty room.
