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rattlesthecageRachel hadn't seen Crane since she'd accepted Harvey's proposal. She felt terribly guilty, painting a smile on her face and humouring her fiancé when he excitedly brought up wedding plans. She was looking forward to starting a life with him, but the ring weighs heavily on her finger, a constant reminder of what she'd given up in order to have this.
There are times she considers telling him everything. Sneaking around with Crane has weighed heavily on her conscience ever since they first started seeing each other; even more now that she knows that they can't be together and her thoughts are constantly drawn back to him. She knows she can't build a marriage on lies or omission. The only thing that stops her is knowing how much it would hurt Harvey, and endanger Crane. How he would forgive her for her infidelity, but never look at her the same way, look at her as something that Crane had manipulated and used and defiled. Harvey would go on an all out offensive, and stop at nothing until Crane was behind bars. So she keeps her silence, but her heart is heavy.
When she's alone in her apartment, sometimes she'll hear a floorboard creak, or get the sense that someone's watching her. She hunts for him in all the nooks and crannies, calls out his name, but he's never there, or if he is, he never answers. She knows that it's really only her imagination anyway, that she never got hints of Crane like that unless he wanted her to, never knew where he was until he was right on top of her, but that doesn't stop her from hoping.
One night she's half asleep when a shadow flits across the wan moonlight that's pooled across her room. She jerks bolt upright, a grin spreading across her face, and waits, and waits, but he doesn't come. She rises from bed and wanders over to the window, squinting across to the fire escape for any signs that he had broken in, or was even just lurking there ouside, but there was nothing. Then she hears a rustle from behind her and jumps a mile, but it's only Harvey, smiling that charming smile, looking slightly concerned that she was up at such an hour, drawing back the covers so she could snuggle beside him. Her face falls, and she feels so guilty about wishing it wasn't him curled up next to her. The next morning, she pretends that she was sleepwalking, that she doesn't remember a thing.
Almost four months after Harvey got down on one knee and slipped the ring onto her finger, she's alone in her apartment, dusting the mantel when she notices that one of her photos is at an angle. The one he'd commented on, too, of her high school graduation. Given the outline of the dust from where it used to sit, it was moved recently.
She feels her heart jump into her throat.
She tears a scrap of paper from an envelope, then frantically searches for a pen, eventually retrieving one from the pocket of her coat. I miss you, she writes, lifting the picture frame to place the message underneath, and replacing the photo at the original angle, not the one it had been moved to, to show she'd seen it. It's a slim chance - maybe she'd knocked it accidentally, maybe Harvey had picked it up when she wasn't looking - but she has to take it.
When she checks in a few days time, the note is gone. Rachel bursts into relieved laughter, knowing that he's near, that he's still thinking about her. That he's watching out for her in his own messed up way.
And once again she wishes things could be simple.
There are times she considers telling him everything. Sneaking around with Crane has weighed heavily on her conscience ever since they first started seeing each other; even more now that she knows that they can't be together and her thoughts are constantly drawn back to him. She knows she can't build a marriage on lies or omission. The only thing that stops her is knowing how much it would hurt Harvey, and endanger Crane. How he would forgive her for her infidelity, but never look at her the same way, look at her as something that Crane had manipulated and used and defiled. Harvey would go on an all out offensive, and stop at nothing until Crane was behind bars. So she keeps her silence, but her heart is heavy.
When she's alone in her apartment, sometimes she'll hear a floorboard creak, or get the sense that someone's watching her. She hunts for him in all the nooks and crannies, calls out his name, but he's never there, or if he is, he never answers. She knows that it's really only her imagination anyway, that she never got hints of Crane like that unless he wanted her to, never knew where he was until he was right on top of her, but that doesn't stop her from hoping.
One night she's half asleep when a shadow flits across the wan moonlight that's pooled across her room. She jerks bolt upright, a grin spreading across her face, and waits, and waits, but he doesn't come. She rises from bed and wanders over to the window, squinting across to the fire escape for any signs that he had broken in, or was even just lurking there ouside, but there was nothing. Then she hears a rustle from behind her and jumps a mile, but it's only Harvey, smiling that charming smile, looking slightly concerned that she was up at such an hour, drawing back the covers so she could snuggle beside him. Her face falls, and she feels so guilty about wishing it wasn't him curled up next to her. The next morning, she pretends that she was sleepwalking, that she doesn't remember a thing.
Almost four months after Harvey got down on one knee and slipped the ring onto her finger, she's alone in her apartment, dusting the mantel when she notices that one of her photos is at an angle. The one he'd commented on, too, of her high school graduation. Given the outline of the dust from where it used to sit, it was moved recently.
She feels her heart jump into her throat.
She tears a scrap of paper from an envelope, then frantically searches for a pen, eventually retrieving one from the pocket of her coat. I miss you, she writes, lifting the picture frame to place the message underneath, and replacing the photo at the original angle, not the one it had been moved to, to show she'd seen it. It's a slim chance - maybe she'd knocked it accidentally, maybe Harvey had picked it up when she wasn't looking - but she has to take it.
When she checks in a few days time, the note is gone. Rachel bursts into relieved laughter, knowing that he's near, that he's still thinking about her. That he's watching out for her in his own messed up way.
And once again she wishes things could be simple.
