Out of all the things James has gifted her, it was the steady, too-bright flicker of hope he'd lit inside her Lita had prized above all else. Even now, it burns steady and sharp, beating in tune with the rhythm of her ruined heart. It's the hope that's killing her now; wishing he'll say every word was true but knowing it would be more merciful for him to admit he'd never cared for her at all. There is no right answer, not anymore.
She wants to believe him when he says he meant every word but that's always been her problem. Her willingness to believe. In him. In her. To suspend everything she knows and trusts for the sake of...what? A few, precious moments of happiness? Were they worth the ineffable misery she feels right now? Maybe he did mean every word, maybe he still does, but even so it's all a lie. Will she ever know if she fell for the man or for the mask he wore for her? He turns his back to her then, like it's too much; like he can't even stand the sight of her.
"Just go."
If James had slapped her, it would have hurt less. Lita steps back, physically reeling. Dismissed. Shunned. Ordered to leave his presence like she was some peon, like she was nothing. Was that how he saw her? As part of his property, just another cog in his ever-expanding kingdom? The rage is so all-encompassing that Lita is momentarily struck dumb at the intensity of it. She wants to devastate him. She wants to bring him to his knees. She wants him hopeless. She wants him to feel just like her. Every cruel and hurtful remark poised on tip of her tongue tastes like dirt in her mouth. She had always thought herself so damn smart. But for once, Lita doesn't have the words to cut him down like she feels he deserves. She moves without thinking. Her body is on auto-pilot, fueled on despair and hatefire.
Lita's hand goes to the delicate necklace around her neck. The pendant is warm against her palm like it has a life of its own. She holds it for a moment, memorizing the weight and feel of it against her skin. Then, in one smooth, quick jerk, Lita breaks the chain. The necklace dangles from her fingertips for a few seconds, catching the light of the setting sun in the coppery metal bullet fragment, before she lets it fall onto the dusty road. It looks so out of place; something so beautiful set against the desolate wasteland.
She turns her back to him, then. She's the one walking away, not him. It's the only thing she has left to do and yet, she hesitates. She doesn't need to hide the tears now that he can't see them, streaking through the dirt and gore on her face.
"I'll keep all your precious secrets," Lita says quietly, venom seeping into her words. "Every last, goddamn one. Just keep my name out of your lying mouth."
Her treacherous heart cements her feet to the ground, waiting and wishing for him to call out to her, to stop her from walking away from him. When he doesn't, she turns her head over her shoulder.
"Goodbye...Rodeo."
She doesn't remember walking to her car, climbing in, starting the ignition. She doesn't even notice she's almost home before she realizes what she's done.