The next morning Maggie awoke to an empty bed. Glenn was gone before the
sun came up, or perhaps he hadn’t come back at all. She’d slept hard, which was
her way of escaping whatever mess she was facing.
Now it was dawn and thunder rolled across the sky, close and loud, and
Maggie had to get up to face the day and face the mess she’d made with both
Glenn and Daryl. She headed to the showers, noticing they were using the lights
just so they could see, even though the sun was up.
“Look at it out there,” her sister, Beth, noted, once Maggie came to the
common area. She stood at the window, which was free of rainfall so far.
“You like a storm, don’t you?” Maggie asked.
Beth nodded and smiled. “I wanted to sleep in.”
“Why didn’t you? It’s Sunday.”
“We’ve all got jobs to do,” Beth replied, and hefted the baby on her hip.
“Have I ever told you how proud I am of you for what you do for her?”
Beth shook her head. “I don’t need a pat on the back. She’s a joy. She…she
called me mama last night.”
Beth looked conflicted at that. Maggie put a hand on her shoulder. “You
are her mama. The only one she’s ever known.”
She kissed Beth on the cheek but her sister wasn’t ready to drop the
conversation.
“Maggie, is something wrong? You seem down.”
If only I could tell you , Maggie thought. She wouldn’t dare. It
wasn’t that she didn’t trust Beth not to keep the secret, but because Maggie
didn’t want to lose her sister's respect.
“I’m okay. Just some private stuff with Glenn.”
“Are you two okay?”
“Oh yeah,” Maggie lied. “Don’t you worry about us. We’ll be fine.”
She left the common area, feeling somewhat better. She hadn’t actually
unloaded anything but she felt better knowing that her sister cared enough to
notice, and to ask.
Glenn was in the yard where the wind was blowing with the kind of ferocity
that warned of a bad storm. It looked like a hurricane was about to blow
through, or possibly a tornado, the way the winds angrily howled. Maggie
worried about the fences every time the winds got bad like this. She watched as
several walkers were blown off their feet by the sheer force of the it, which
would have been funny if it wasn’t for the fact they were blown directly into
the fences, which were showing signs of failure, rather than away from
them.
“Jesus,” she whispered, seeing lightning flash in the sky above and seeing
the fences sway alarmingly.
“The fences!”
Michonne and Daryl were already there, waving at Maggie and Glenn to come
their way.
For a moment, as she ran beside Glenn, everything seemed right, normal,
and she could imagine for a little while that she hadn’t fucked up. She could
forget her internal turmoil and just work to kill the walkers on the fence.
Thankfully there weren’t as many as usual. She thought perhaps the thunder confused
them and made them wander in circles looking for the source.
Another flash of nearby lightning brought a loud crack of thunder that
made Maggie’s stomach clench. She wasn’t normally afraid of the weather but
this morning it looked like the Good Lord was in a bad mood. A tree must have
caught fire because soon black smoke could be seen in the wood, not too far
from the prison.
That's when the rain came. When it did it came in fast and heavy. It fell
in torrents that lashed her hair almost painfully at her face. Michonne
finished off the last walker at the fence and they hurried inside to get out of
the rain. They ran into Rick who asked for Glenn and Michonne’s help with
shoring up the fence in back of the prison with some other workers. They
hurried off to get the job done.
Without a word to her, or even looking at her, Daryl started toward his
rooms, and she knew he wanted her to follow. Maggie made sure no one was
watching before she tagged along after him.
“We need to talk,” she said, once they’d shut the door behind them.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Glenn came to see me last night. Said he thinks you’re
foolin’ around. I told him you wasn’t.”
“Did he believe you?”
Daryl shrugged. They fell silent, listening to the rain pound at the
window. Daryl’s eyes were on her, taking in the sight of her shirt clinging to
her skin, her nipples poking at the thin material because of the cold. He
swallowed. God how he wanted to taste those nipples, even as he wanted it to
end.
“We gotta stop, Maggie. For him. I felt like shit knowin' he trusts me and
I'm stabbin' him in the back. I can't do it no more.”
She nodded, feeling the exact same way. “I know, you're right. It's for
the best.”
She really did think it best they stopped. Now that she was alone with
Daryl, with that bed in the corner of the room like an elephant they were
trying to ignore, all of her guilt was gone, replaced with hot lust that set
her body on fire. She and Daryl stared one another in the eye, both of them
watching as the other's resolve faltered and then failed. She rushed to him and
he caught her, picking her up while she threw her legs around his waist.
“We gotta be quick. He’ll wonder where you are.”
“This the last time?” she asked, hoping he’d say no, it wasn’t.
Instead he said nothing, choosing to smother her lips with his and fill
her mouth with his tongue, which tasted faintly of tobacco. He sat her on the
desk and worked her wet jeans down. She lay back and put her legs up and to the
right so he could slide into her. She rested her legs over his left shoulder
while he moved inside her, giving it to her just the way she liked it: hard,
fast. His thrusts were almost brutal, making her cry out, but her cries were
swallowed up by the constant roll of thunder outside.
It didn’t take long this time. They both got the satisfaction of a climax,
and Daryl stood there, looking into her eyes as he softened inside of her.
“Yeah,” he said, finally answering her question. “This is the last time.”
“Every addict says that when they’ve just had a fix,” she answered. “This
is the last drink. The last cigarette. I quit after this.”
“I really am quitting you. I gotta,” Daryl said.
Something in his tone was final and she knew it was over. He withdrew from
her and she quickly fixed her clothes. She wiped wet hair back from her brow
and faced him.
“Kiss me goodbye,” she said.
He did, kissing her with the kind of passion she had never known in her
life, or thought Daryl capable of, and she could barely stand up when it was
over. Daryl held Maggie against his chest, his hands surprisingly tender as
they stroked her back.
“Don’t come back,” he said softly. “ Please , don’t come back.”
She wanted to cry at the loss. She wanted to sigh with relief. It was
over. It was for the best, but she would miss him. She would miss the passion,
the closeness, the connection that had formed between them despite their best
efforts to make it all about sex and nothing else. She nodded against him,
determined that she would never come to his room again. If she was weak, she prayed
he’d be strong enough for the both of them to really put an end to it.
She ran her hands over his arms. They were so strong, and warm, and they’d
brought her so much joy. Now that was over.
“Find somebody,” she told him. “You can have something so good, Daryl, if
you just give it a chance.”
Daryl didn’t say anything. He just stood, mute, and watched her leave. She
thought, for just a moment, she heard the soft sound of weeping after she
closed the door, but she didn’t go back to offer comfort. They’d cut the cord
and it was going to hurt both of them for a long time to come.
It’s for the best , Maggie told herself, but she wasn’t sure
she’d ever really believe that.
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