FIC: Improv # 18 ~Waiting for Isabel~
Author: becky rttavi@aol.com
Rating: G
Pairing: Jesse POV
Disclaimer: I own nothing Roswell related.
Spoilers: Graduation
Improv #18 submerge - pause - bewilder - moonlight


~*~

Isabel.

Just thinking about her makes my head hurt and my heart ache. She was in my life for such a short amount of time but her memory is burned in my mind. I'll see her again someday. I can make that promise. Until then I'll wait.

Although I knew she was different I never imagined how much. I was so scared when she told me the truth. Actually when Michael told me the truth as my wife lay dying on the ground. She's from another planet. My wife isn't human, she's alien. There's no such thing as aliens; that's what my brain kept trying to force down my throat. No such thing as aliens. But there was and I was married to one. I am married to one.

I wanted to run away as fast as I could when I let the truth sink in. Then I realized it didn't matter to me what my wife was. She was still my wife and I still loved her more than anything else in the world. I would help her and hold her and submerge myself into her entire existence for just one more minute with her. But I let her go. I let her go.

It's been six months since I've seen her but it isn't getting easier. I'll never get over her, I never want to. She is my wife and she'll stay my wife. Someday we'll be reunited. Someday when it's safe for us, we'll be together again. I pray each night that someday comes soon.

I would have gone with her, I would have followed her to the ends of the earth, but for her, I didn't. For her I did as she asked and stayed behind. It's all for my wife. I go to bed alone and I wake up alone with only the memories of her beautiful smiling face in my heart. Only the memories of our short time, too short of time, together.

I left Roswell not long after she did, but I bet we were going in opposite directions. I didn't look back when I left. I couldn't. I have one memory of Roswell and she's not there anymore. Every time the phone rings I lunge for it. The hang-ups after I answer; I'm sure those are from her. I pause when I hear the click in my ear and know she's thinking of me as much as I'm thinking of her. That's how I get through the days of waiting for her.

I don't have too many friends and I'm always looking over my shoulder. What I'm waiting for, I don't know. Maybe I'm waiting to be kidnapped and interrogated or maybe I'm just hoping to catch a glimpse of my wife.

My life hasn't turned out the way I thought I would. All I ever wanted was to be a successful lawyer and live happily ever after with my beautiful wife. Now I would trade in everything I own for one more minute with her. I would trade it my career just to hear her tell me she loved me one more time. Instead, I wait.

I wait for the call from her telling me she's coming back to me. I wait for a letter explaining to me where I should go to meet her. I wait in a state of bewilder that this is my life and I'm waiting. I'm waiting for the day I see my wife again. I miss her.

Tonight is like the others, cold, much colder than it ever got in Roswell. I sit on the small balcony of my apartment and stare at the sky. I do this every night with the phone in my lap, waiting. I stare into the skies and pray for her safe return to me. I watch the heat of my breath escape into the cold night air and try to keep my eyes dry. In the stars and in the shadows from the moonlight, I see her. She's smiling and waiting for me.

Isabel.

~*~

end


becky