That afternoon Dusty insisted on going to the train station alone, citing that she was too grown up for a farewell entourage. The reality was that she hadn't heard from Valentine since their kiss and was clinging on to a small shred of hope that she'd come to the station to bid her goodbye. She'd told her she was leaving and at what time. She just had to hope that she wanted to come and see her. She didn't know what she expected her to say; she just needed to know that she felt the same, that the kiss had meant something, that the fire between them still hadn't burnt out.
Alone on the platform and waiting for her train, Dusty began to fear that she wouldn't show. Wrapped tightly in her coat and scarf, she steeled herself against the cold. The ice had started to thaw slightly, turning to slush. Already Dusty missed the snow. She liked how it coated the whole world in a beautiful white blanket, making even the ugliest of places appear magical and ethereal. The wind bit at her cheeks, and she started to wish her train would arrive early, even if it meant not seeing Valentine one last time.
As she turned to glance up the line for an incoming train, she saw her walking slowly towards her. She was wearing a long, dark wool coat, which was buttoned up high to protect her face. Her hands were thrust deep into the pockets of her dark denim jeans, shielding them from the cold. "Valentine." The word fogged before her as she released it.
She smiled when she saw her and felt her spirits rise, but they soon started to cascade back to earth when she noticed the paleness of her face, the sadness in her eyes. She had not come here to say she felt the same. She had come here to say the kiss had been a mistake, to finally set her free once and for all. Dusty started to feel sick and wished her train would arrive and transport her away from this painful moment. "Hey," Valentine said uncomfortably, not daring to come close to her.
Dusty tried to remain composed. She didn't want to give her the satisfaction of seeing her break, of letting her know how much she meant to her. Had it all just been a game to her? Did she just want to see if she could woo her back one last time to satisfy her selfish ego? Dusty wanted to take her letters and rip them up in her face, letting them scatter to the wind to show her how little she cared, that she could never break her. But it wasn't true. Inside, she was trembling, terrified that she was about to shatter every illusion she'd ever held to be true of her. She had loved her, loved her still, the kiss had made her certain of that. If she didn't feel the same, she'd be left as a fool, nursing a broken heart and resigned to a life of bitterness.
"Why are you here?" Dusty asked, unable to conceal her emotions.
"I came to see you," Valentine said.
"Why? To tell me how last night was a mistake? That you never meant to kiss me? Do you resent me that much that you insist on breaking my heart one final time before I leave this hell hole of a town forever." Tears flashed down Dusty's cheeks as her anger boiled over. Valentine flinched, hurt by her words.
Valentine dared to come closer to her, allowing her to see the redness in her eyes, the dark bags beneath them. She was a woman who had not slept. "Last night wasn't a mistake," she clarified in her deep, husky voice. Dusty's shoulders relaxed a little upon hearing this, but it didn't explain her demeanor. There was clearly something going on, something bad. "I care about you, Dusty-Rose. You know that. Hell, I love you. There, I said it." She lifted a hand to her temple and sighed deeply.
"I love you too," Dusty declared, touching her arm. Valentine looked at her, overwhelmed by sadness, and shook her head in dismay. "But you won't want me," she told her, her voice small and meek.
"Why not?" Dusty asked, shocked at how she could even think that after the intensity of their kiss. Surely it was evident just how much they belonged together? "Because." Valentine shoved her hands back into her jean pockets and looked around nervously.
"Valentine, what is it?" Dusty prompted, hearing a train approaching in the distance.
"My ex, Sophie, you saw her last night."
"Oh yeah, the stalker." Dusty rolled her eyes.
"Well, she came to the party to see me, to tell me something."
"To tell you what?" Dusty queried, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.
Valentine sighed, the desperate exasperated sigh of a woman at the end of her rope with nowhere else to go. What she was about to say would mean the end of what she had with Dusty, but she respected her too much to deny her the truth. She meant everything to her to the point where she loved her enough to let her go when it was the best thing for her. Taking a deep breath, she released her bombshell and braced herself for the aftermath of destruction; "She's pregnant."
Dusty absorbed the words and looked at Valentine with shocked, appalled eyes. "Is it yours? " she asked slowly, feeling nauseous once more. Valentine could only nod, unable to speak. Dusty looked away from her, not wanting Valentine to see her tears as in the distance she saw her train finally approaching. Everything she'd dreamt of with herâa life, a future, a familyâit was all gone. One revelation had stolen it all from her. The dreams she entertained about her would now be fulfilled by someone else, by the woman lurking at the base of the staircase who had won the right to keep her.
As much as Dusty loved Valentine, she would never allow herself to be the reason a family was kept apart, and Valentine knew that. Family meant so much to Dusty. Her train arrived and came to a standstill at the platform as a handful of travelers began to board. Dusty didn't want to even look at Valentine. She felt betrayed. Insemination her ex-girlfriend felt like the ultimate slap in the face, that she'd never truly seen a future with Dusty.
Dusty had been there merely for her amusement while she nurtured her future family in the background. Dusty herself had known love since Valentine. There was a time when her world had revolved around Kyera, but then she hadn't been the one sending letters, making promises. She had been the one who needed time to make a decision, to see the true intent of her heart. And in the moment she realized Valentine was who she wanted, Valentine ripped it all from her by revealing that she was actually the one who was unsure, that the words in the letters were nothing but empty promises.
"Say something," Valentine pleaded, reaching out for Dusty's hand, but she swiftly moved it beyond her reach. She hoisted her duffel bag onto her back and made to get on the train.
"Dusty!" Valentine cried, the vision of a broken woman. She struggled to stay standing, wanting to fall to her knees and beg her forgiveness. She was leaving her again, and this time no letters could mend what she had done. She had failed. "Please just say something!" she begged again.
Partially on the train, Dusty turned and looked back at her. Her face was hard and stern, her emotions pushed down deep inside and securely locked away, at least for the time being. "Congratulations," she said coldly before getting on the train and sitting by a window, refusing to look back at her as the train pulled out of the station and commenced its journey back to New York.
****
As the train thundered along Dusty let herself weep, let her anguished tears fall. With her tears came a sudden irrepressible urge to banish all elements of Valentine from her life. She searched in her duffel bag and found the fateful letter that she had read upon her graduation. The letter promising that she'd be waiting for her, the letter promising forever. Dusty held the letter in her hands for a moment, taking in the lies one last time before ripping the paper to shreds. Then, she opened the window beside her and shoved the small pieces out through the opening, watching them cascade out into the wind, lost to the elements.
Leaning back in her chair, Dusty pinched her eyes shut and wondered when the pain of the heartache would eventually pass. She'd realized that there was nothing more brutal than living with love.