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Rachel sits outside and watches the rain.
She didn't want to keep this flat, but Heck--reasonable as ever, infuriatingly so--insisted that even though he didn't want it, it was too good a flat to waste, and so she stayed. Besides, she likes the balcony with its view of the soggy grey London streets. Spring is starting to make its presence felt, splashing colour across parks and gardens and window boxes, and even under the drizzle, with the musty scent of rain, it's quite lovely out there.
That's where Luce finds her, sitting out in the rain.
"What are you doing?" Luce calls from inside, and Rachel turns at the sound of her voice, snapping back to reality. Only then does she realise how wet she's getting, and how cold.
"Moping," she says, but even though it's the truth, the words come out sounding quite cheerful. "I'm moping."
Luce smiles at her, that smile which makes Rachel feel like they're mirror images of each other, because she whenever she sees it she always automatically smiles back. Luce disappears for a moment and returns with an umbrella, joining Rachel outside. She sits beside her on the wall and opens the brolly, holding it over both their heads.
"I thought an umbrella might be a good idea, considering the rain," Luce says.
"It's a brilliant idea," Rachel says, smiling again. "Someone should write a song about it."
Luce laughs, then says, "I hope you realise that we're probably going to get hypothermia and die out here. They'll find our corpses frozen together."
"Well, it's entirely your fault for showing me how nice it is to be out here in the rain. I used to be far more sensible than this." Rachel rests her head against Luce's shoulder, drawing comfort from her presence. It seems like an awfully long time ago, that first, almost disastrous dinner with Luce. It was the first time warning bells had gone off for Rachel, even though she didn't really understand them at the time, but she's glad now that she refused to listen to them. Being with Luce has stopped feeling like a novelty, something new and exciting and altogether strange, and has become instead an essential part of existence.
After a while Luce asks, "Are you really moping?"
"Maybe not moping, exactly," Rachel says, although she doesn't know what else to call sitting outside in the rain and feeling miserable. "You don't really want to hear about it."
"Now, you know that's not true," Luce says. "You should tell me."
"Yes, I suppose I should," Rachel says. The rain is starting to ease up a little, but Rachel still shivers from the cold. Her clothes are damp and her hair is sticking to her forehead, and the umbrella isn't doing a terribly good job of keeping more rain away from her. She takes a breath and says, "The papers came through. The divorce papers, that is. So that means I can divorce Heck now, which should be a good thing, except now--"
"Now you're moping," Luce says.
"Just a little. I'm sorry." Rachel glances up at Luce a bit fearfully, worried that perhaps she might take the admission the wrong way, but Luce pulls her in closer and kisses her forehead.
"You're allowed to feel a bit upset about getting a divorce, you know. When you get married you only expect to do it once." Luce brushes a lock of hair away from Rachel's face and looks into her eyes. "It's only a problem if you don't actually want to sign the papers."
Rachel frowns. "I'm not still in love with him," she says, and she doesn't doubt the words for a moment. She and Heck have managed to forge a friendship post-breakup, one that's only occasionally awkward, and Rachel is certain that they fit better that way. Still, for so long Heck has been part of her family, even before they got married, and Rachel can't imagine cutting him loose. It shouldn't really make a material difference to the way they are; all it is is signing some papers, not an especially big deal when you think about it, but Rachel finds it difficult to comprehend that soon there'll be nothing that tethers them together anymore.
She isn't sure how to explain it to Luce in a way that makes sense, but that's the wonderful thing about Luce--no words are necessary, because she gets Rachel.
"I'm just getting a bit nostalgic, that's all," Rachel says. It would probably be easier if Heck were a bastard; that way she could blame him, and move on without feeling guilty. As it stands, she's aware that she was the villain in the situation, inasmuch as anyone was, so while she's moved on, there's plenty of guilt about it. "I just feel bad about it, but I'm not having second thoughts, really."
"I know," Luce says softly. She scans the view, looking for something unknown in the rain, and eventually she finds what she's looking for and points eastward. "There."
"Sorry, what's there?" Rachel asks.
Luce turns to her and smiles. "That's where there was a traffic jam, and you stood on top of your dad's car and yelled for all of London to hear. And then you kissed me in the middle of the street, for all of London to see." She looks Rachel in the eye and says, "I don't believe that anything's changed since then."
"No, it hasn't," Rachel says, and she peers in the direction that Luce was pointing. She can't see anything familiar except the landmarks. "Was it really over there that all that happened?"
"Well, maybe not exactly over there," Luce says, grinning. "I have no idea, I just guessed."
Laughter bubbles up in Rachel's chest; when it's subsided and she's caught her breath, she kisses Luce, leaving her breathless once more. Even though it's something they've done countless times before, each time she still feels traces of that kiss, the one in the traffic jam, the one that marked the start of everything. She still feels the fluttering in her chest, that feeling that she's coming home and embarking on an adventure all at once.
They pull apart, and Rachel says, "I think I'm going to sign the papers now."
"You are?" Luce says, a pleased smile spreading across her face.
Rachel smiles back, that automatic reaction, and says, "Yes. Time for a new chapter."