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It felt as if her heart had stopped. Her entire body had frozen at his touch, it all just seemed so...unreal. Therese had not come to this party hoping to see Michal like she had at past events. She had felt as if she had accepted the end of their relationship, finally. Accepted was the key word, however, because a person could accept their fate and not be happy about it. She pressed her lips together, eyes not leaving his.

She had waited to hear these words for so long. As someone who helped people get through rough patches, Therese knew that she had been missing that closure. He had just...he'd just left. No questions had been answered, nothing had been resolved. Her heart had been left broken and in pieces for such a long time, and she'd resisted and resisted (and failed, as she recalled that midnight meeting on his porch) to confront him. He wasn't worth it her friends had said, she shouldn't waste her time.

Her logical mind worked tirelessly on the many aspects of their breakup, the situation while her heart ached and raged. Therese understood Michal's running away from a professional standpoint so her heart battled her head over and over again. So what did she do to ignore the internal battle? She'd skipped the country to France, to the States. Teased an artist who wished her to be his muse and snogged a bloke who was literally perfect for her in every way except for the brutal fact that his fiancée had just died. Dyed her hair, wore short skirts to muggle bars, whisked her friend's children to toy stores and spent far too much money on them. What a random year it had been, and Michal taking hold of her face right now seemed to strangely fit into place.

Therese smiled sadly. He seemed so honest with his words as alcohol tended provide an easier filter for the mind's thoughts to get past. She had answers to all his questions but her voice caught in her throat. He was the answer to all of them, did he really not know that?

"Michal..." she said softly, eyes breaking away from his as she searched the party for one of his friends. He wasn't in a state to be left alone. Therese looked back up at him, hand reaching to touch his, the one he had placed against her cheek. She'd desperately missed his touch and involuntarily leaned into his grasp. "You're very drunk."