[reaction]
Marta's at work when it happens. She's smiling pleasantly and saying goodbye to a customer, the rest of the oxygen bar empty at the moment with it inching toward the end of the day, and the door's only just closed behind the young man leaving when it hits her.
This has happened before, though she's sober this time and knows that the sensation creeping over her is something from outside, not within herself. While she still has the last clinging threads of her own thoughts, she tries to fight back and curse at the same time, because as it settles over her, she knows where she is. The bedroom, the scent, the feel of the sheets - she hasn't forgotten. And she knows it's not right - anyone's memories should be off limits, but especially his. And oh fuck, especially this one.
When the memory lets her go after what feels like hours of twisting her around in a whirlpool of sharpened rocks, her own tears echo those from his memory, though instead of falling into the soft hair topping a tiny head, hers fall onto the hard floor where she's crumpled down, a tangle of slender limbs and a fashionable outfit she shouldn't be able to afford. In addition to the tears, she murmurs out a constant soft whisper of no, trying to disagree with the feelings from the memory, as if by saying it enough her words could go back in time to change things.
She hadn't known. Seeing the aftermath of what she left behind carves into her the way little else has, only believing things now that she's been forced to see and feel them from the other side. His strong emotions, the desire for a family, the need to hold her close - they all mirrored what she'd longed for and been so convinced she couldn't, didn't have. And didn't deserve. Even with all the holes that the past few years have drilled through her memories, she still recalls wanting to be close, be loved, be wanted - but not believing it was hers to take or have. To be shown otherwise…
Another sob cuts through the open space, and she can't just stay there. What if someone comes in? She's supposed to be working, but she knows there's no way she can manage that. Her shoes are kicked off and left where they are as she uses the front podium station to pull herself back to her feet and cross to the front door, flipping the sign to CLOSED and making sure the door is locked, the quickest closing procedure possible. Even as she moves around the space and then barefoot up to her room where she can lock the door behind herself, bits of the memory snag in her mind like glass under the skin, forcing her to carry it with her.
It wasn't true, the things he thought. But it was true to him, and there was no way to change that. She'd tried leaving the first time because she couldn't get rid of the baby - not even Sawyer then, not even Bean. It had been a relief and something so unbelievable when he'd accepted the change of becoming a family, because it had meant she wouldn't have to do it alone. The staying… it wasn't just for him. It was for the baby and for herself too, because she hadn't actually wanted to leave. And she'd convinced herself that was part of the problem - wanting him too much and wanting too much from him. Not being able to be what he needed (she thought), not being able to be what Sawyer needed (she thought). Not being able to do anything to add to the good in their lives, only the bad. Each demand and negativity piled on top of the last until she'd been convinced that one more thing from her would topple everything and break it all.
And of course, hadn't that been true in the end? Just not in the way she'd expected it to be.
The evening passes into night, but she doesn't do anything other than lay curled into herself on her bed and replay the memory over. And over. She thinks about reaching out to him, but what would she say? How could she even say it? The last time they talked hadn't exactly left the door open for a next time, and especially not a next time that would lay this particular memory bare between them. Maybe… maybe it was better if she kept it to herself, carried this as well. And to do whatever she could to not hurt him - him and Sawyer - even more.