Between Us

by Mhairi McFarlane

At some point, Roisin accepted get past this week and things will calm down a bit was a coping mechanism lie of adulthood.

Nearly a decade on, it was as if their love was a neglected, autumn leaf–strewn swimming pool. It technically still existed, yet Joe had drained the water out, inch by inch. If you jumped into it, there was nothing there. You’d break your ankles.

So, you don’t want to finish with your partner, because you think you’d finish the group?

She wondered if any privacy was now an illusion. “Between us” meant nothing.

Roisin needed to stop punishing the people available to be punished, who might’ve made mistakes, but sincerely loved her back.