Jonathan hadn't learned anything new from reading Lydia's lists, but he loved the words she used. Every word he read he had heard before, but it was somewhat extraordinary to see them on paper. He stood taller, supported by the great satisfaction that he understood Lydia like no other- not that he had any hesitation before. Jonathan seemed to please her almost effortlessly.
The next entry was written faintly, the handwriting sloppier than the others. A simple flick of her pencil marked each new point, inviting Jonathan to read on and on. He flipped the pages with caution, careful not to tear them. Leaning closer to the paper, he took a candle with him to illuminate the words with soft orange light. He read the list slowly, as if every letter was significant.
The Precious Parts of Life
- soft blankets when the weather is rubbish
- pine candles
- tea before the sun sets
- unnecessary smiles
- song birds in the early morning…
The door opened behind Jonathan, causing him to jump out of place. Typically, Jonathan was more collected, but this situation was different. It was almost evening, the time Lydia would return home, and it was Lydia’s list he had engaged himself with. No permission was granted to him in order to read it, or any of them. He had no indication of Lydia’s reaction if she discovered what he had done. His eyes grazed the final list one last time, skimming through the unknown precious parts of her life.
He froze at Lydia’s last point, his mouth split open. His chest closed tight around him, but before he could react, he unwillingly forced himself to look away.
Lydia strode through the door, carrying the scent of a late October's rain behind her. Lydia spent her afternoon in the office where she filed important papers and answered insignificant questions. Lydia held some sort of empty pride in her position, she expected more from herself. Somehow, she was pleased by the end of the day. After all, each day ended with Jonathan.
Upon reflex, Jonathan moved to his side, hiding the lists behind him. Lydia only glanced at him through the corner of her eye, a playful smile framing her pale face.
"You're very wet." Jonathan observed blankly. The last point sat on the top of his mind, but he felt compelled to fill the silence. He rocked on his feet awkwardly, making it unmistakingly obvious he was hiding something.
Without falter, Lydia rested her gray gloves on the countertop as if she was oblivious to Jonathan’s behaviors.
"It's been raining all day,” she hid a smile. “The weather is rubbish." Lydia watched Jonathan with pleasure, well aware of her choice of words. Before starting her day, she had left her lists at her bedside for the first time, taking advantage of Jonathan's curiosity. She had finished her final list, The Precious Parts of Life, and wanted Jonathan to read it through to the bitter end.
Jonathan thrust his chin into the air, smiling in a way only a true gentleman could. "I have the perfect remedy for rubbish weather."
Lydia tilted her head forward, raising a frail eyebrow. "Do you?"
Without another word, Jonathan slipped out of the room, confidently exposing the lists to Lydia. Her eyes trailing away from the pages, Lydia let out a single breath of air. A feeling of numbness collected in her chest. Everything had gone as she had expected, she only hoped that the rest of the evening would end just as similar.
Without warning, Lydia was embraced into a hug warmer than any other. Jonathan stood over her, the only thing between them the cotton blanket he had warmed by a low fire moments before. He gently swayed back and forth to the melody that was Lydia's laugh. He held her arms and her corset waist, his upturned chin rested on the top of her head. Jonathan embraced everything that mattered to him and shut his eyes, softly.
"Jonny!" Lydia squealed, "I’m going to get you wet!"
Jonathan found it almost ridiculous that Lydia could focus on anything except the two of them, but played to her will. He stepped away, leaving the blanket surrounding her. Just as the hum of thunder crept over their tiny apartment, Jonathan opened the door. He moved backwards into the rain and stood as if he had a board in his back. Chills crept down his spine and covered his skin. Regardless, he stood.
As Jonathan was showered, he quickly grew restless. He arched his back and lifted his heart towards the gray English sky. With a smooth motion of his fingers he slicked back his hair then held onto a black lock of it. He cringed as the rain stung his face, but he regretted nothing. He had done it for Lydia, he regretted nothing...
Jonathan turned to look at Lydia, letting his arms swing idly around him. “It doesn’t matter now,” he was both calm and desperate. “This moment- it’s only me and you.”
Jonathan was no longer talking about the rain, but the entire relationship that ended in a few words. His words were a pitiful attempt at an apology. The expression across his face, his wide eyes and quivering lip, was constructed out of pure hopelessness. 
Lydia remained still. She didn’t make sound and her eyes barely blinked. Afraid of her own tears, she avoided Jonathan’s pleading eyes and her gaze fell upon the chin he often held too high. Words burned back of Lydia’s throat, but she choked them down along with her pride. There was nothing she could say, or even do. Jonathan had read all he needed.
Jonathan’s lawless words tore through the rain like a bullet, each one striking Lydia in her heart. He would beg, then demand. Apologize, then scold. Nothing made sense by the time he paused to take a breath.
Lydia heard her opportunity and seized it.
“Jonny- Jonathan.” It was somewhat easier to correct herself. “I won’t lie to you with an apology. You know why.”
“Me and you, we can’t end.”
Lydia drew from her courage to stare into Jonathan’s eyes. She forced her shoulders down and held her head high. Her hands hardened into fists so they would stop shaking. Lydia spoke with unheralded confidence. She held onto each word as if they were new to her, and used them to push her ahead.
“I need to start over.”
Lydia watched Jonathan lift his chin towards the sky one last time. His body shook, but Lydia would offer him no comfort. He had read what he needed to read,  heard what he needed to hear. Lydia’s mind was set, she could do nothing more besides let him go.
In a strange act of acceptance, Jonathan slogged through the rain and closed the door, leaving Lydia to herself. Lydia hadn’t the faintest idea where he would go, but she wouldn’t concern herself with it. Jonathan knew what was ahead of him, just as Lydia did. Her list crossed her mind, and last she was proud of herself. The last point- the last, precious point, was complete.