- Invitation Status
- Look for groups
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- No Preferences
- Genres
- Slice of Life, Horror, Fandoms, Superheroes, Crime, Drama, Grit, Supernatural, Light Sci-Fi, Modern Era, Dark Themes
James Vos
Breaking up was never easy, it was never quick or simple, and no matter how miserable he had once been, James always felt a little worse directly after. He supposed that was the point, though—if it didn't hurt, it hadn't mattered. In many ways, James had loved Emily. She was a good friend, a wonderful person, and when she needed help, he did what he could. Their marriage had caused the rift in his family to widen, his mother was angry that he hadn't told her how sick Emily was when they had rushed down to the courthouse, his father was just angry that he was spending money, and his sister had never quite believed their explanation; Charlotte was smarter than she looked. Emily had needed support, but now she didn't and now they were divorced because that was the plan.
Rather, they were getting divorced. James hadn't actually signed the papers yet, and he was stalling on letting the family lawyer dig through their financials. At the time of Emily's surgery, he had moved a few hundred thousand dollars around now things were a bit of a mess. He didn't want Emily to have to deal with the inconvenience of trying to maintain the lie while also making it seem like their differences were irreconcilable.
For something that was meant to be fake, they certainly had ended on a sour note. The memories of their last fight came rushing back to James as he stood outside of Emily's door. They had once shared an apartment, but now she wanted move, and somehow, James found himself volunteering to help. After all, some of his things were still there and he didn't mind carrying a box or two if it meant finding a way to patch things up. Their relationship, before the sham wedding, was long and filled with memories that James didn't want to lose entirely. Plus, he didn't do well with people hating him—especially not Emily.
It took a quick pep talk and some deep breaths, but eventually, James found it within himself to knock on the door. It wasn't long before Emily answered. She looked lovely, as usual, which was the way that James liked to think of her, rather than laid up in a hospital bed without any color in her face. "Hey," he said, which sounded like a rather lame greeting, but it had been months since he'd seen her. The last time was by chance, and he was with Hillary; it didn't exactly go well.
"Did you find my journal?" he asked, stepping inside with her. In his rush to leave the apartment, he had completely forgotten to collect his stack of journals that contained everything from details about plays, to phone numbers and random lines of dialogue. By now, James should have learned to put everything in his phone, but there was something very satisfying about writing it down. He hoped Emily hadn't thrown it away. "I only have a few hours, by the way," he added, giving a look around, "so let's make the most of it."
That wasn't exactly true, but James would have cancelled plans with Dennis if it meant being civil with Emily.