There was a man, a lonely man
Who lost his love through his indifference
A heart that cared, that went unshared
Until it died in his silence

The squad car speeds through the downtown canyons, red and blue lights reflecting garishly from the polished steel and brass facades of the office towers. Now and then a puddle becomes a wall of frigid water across the sidewalk as the car flashes by; but it's late, and those few unfortunate souls still out at this hour are already wet in the rain.

The street is already barricaded; a perimeter established to keep curious bystanders out of the way. The other emergency vehicles light up the block with their own red and blue strobes, which, she reflects, ensures that there will be curious bystanders to keep away.

With a nod of thanks to her driver, she steps out of the car, looking for the detective in charge. She turns up the collar of her coat against the weather, and stuffs her hands into her pockets. Her gloves were on the table in the foyer. She could picture them clearly, neatly paired and set next to her purse. In her hurry out to the waiting policeman, she'd grabbed the one but not the other. It's colder now, the rain starting to freeze into sleet and coating everything with a layer of slush, and she regrets the omission. She begins to shiver, already missing the warmth of the car.

And Solitaire's the only game in town
And every road that takes him, takes him down
And by himself, it's easy to pretend
He'll never love again

A man separates from a pair of uniformed cops sheltering at the entrance to one of the buildings. Unlike them he's in a rumpled overcoat, covering a suit that was presumably equally rumpled. His thinning hair is matted with the freezing rain; he glances at her as he speaks into his cellphone. "Never mind, she's here. I'll send her up." He steps forward and takes her elbow, guiding her towards the gleaming chrome door of the office tower. "I'm sorry to drag you out in this." The apology is rote, brisk. "He's on the roof. I've got somebody with him, but he won't let anybody come near. He wants you." He beckons to one of the cops. "This officer will take you up there." Involuntarily she glances upwards, half expecting to see him up there, a tiny shape silhouetted against the sky; but her vision is limited to the sphere of falling sleet illuminated by the streetlights, and as she blinks it from her eyes, her lashes grow thick and heavy and cold.

And keeping to himself he plays the game
Without her love it always ends the same
While life goes on around him everywhere
He's playing Solitaire

She steps out onto the roof, looking out at the flat expanse marred by inexplicable cables and ductwork and machinery. Everything is covered in slush, making the blurred shapes even more mysterious and the footing treacherous. She finds it odd that there's no wind up here, and the street sounds are distant and muffled by the weather; aside from the low hum of machinery and the hiss of the freezing rain striking the hollow metal ducts, it seems eerily quiet.

A policeman is standing to one side, beckoning her with a flashlight. "She's coming," she hears him say, but she can't see who he's speaking to. "He's over here, ma'am." His voice carries across the roof, it sounds hoarse, like he's been talking for a while. She steps cautiously across the roof towards him, picking her way with care, until she rounds the corner of a large ventilation unit, and she can see the subject of his surveillance. Her voice is half bitter laugh, half sob. "Oh, Jesus, David, look at you."

Another day, a lonely day
So much to say that goes unspoken
And through the night, his sleepless nights
His eyes are closed, his heart is broken

The man on the ledge is large, middle-aged, heavy, but not yet fat. His long wig is sodden and heavy, clinging in whisps to his face, dark with wet and streaked grey with slush; whatever color and style and shape it might have had is impossible to tell in the rain and the darkness. His modest print dress might have been pretty, in a better time and on a smaller woman, tonight, on him, it clings wetly to his broad shoulders and thick waist, and only serves to announce those curves he did not have. He has no coat, and the wet fabric has become partially transparent; she can see the shadow of a brassiere underneath. His makeup is ruined, of course; but she can see that it had been applied with care and moderation, a far cry from his first attempt, when she'd laughed cruelly and called him a 'clown hooker'. It had hurt him terribly, but it hadn't discouraged him. Her voice is deliberately gentle. "What are you doing, David? Let's go someplace warm and we can talk."

And Solitaire's the only game in town
And every road that takes him, takes him down
And by himself it's easy to pretend
She's coming back again

The man has climbed outside the guard rail, lowering himself onto a ledge only a few inches wide, reaching up to grip the rail with both hands. He's wearing women's shoes, simple pumps with a low heel, indoor shoes. Slippery shoes. He is freezing, maybe past freezing, he shivers uncontrollably and his teeth chatter. "I-I loved you, y-you kn-know. I did. I d-do." She closes her eyes briefly, pained. This wasn't the place. "I know you did, David. Come off the ledge now. Let's get a coffee and talk about it." The man shakes his head violently, and slips a little on the ledge, clutching the rail even more desperately. "N-NO! I L-LOVE YOU N-NOW."

She feels the old hurt rise up, tears fill her eyes as she blinks them away before they can freeze. There is anger there too, and accusation. She wraps her arms around herself, tucking her bare hands into her armpits. "You left us." she whispered. "You were a husband, and a father. You left us." She discovers she's closed the distance between them. The policeman makes uncomfortable noises, urges her to step back, too far away to do anything about it.

The man's face contorts with anguish, and his own anger, his own loss. "Y-you nev-never understood." he chokes out. "I-I N-NEEDED to do this. It's p-part of m-me, of who I a-am. Y-you... laughed..." He looks up into her eyes, his pain meeting hers. "Y-you wanted m-me to g-get c-counselling. L-like I w-was cr-crazy."

Her eyes flash at that. "Would counselling have been so wrong? You were my husband, I thought we were so happy... I was so happy... the babies, we were a family..." She uncrosses her arms long enough to wipe her eyes with her cold hands. "Then... you changed."

The man shakes his head again, in fervent denial. "I N-NEVER ch-changed! I-I was al-always this way, b-bottled inside." His voice softens. "I h-hated looking at m-me... dressing like m-me. P-pretending to b-be me." He looks away, unable to meet her gaze. "W-we were a fam-family. I w-was tr-trapped. Wh-whatever I d-did would hurt y-you. I c-couldn't stay, s-so I had to g-go." He closes his eyes and slumps against the rail. "S'warmer n-now. S-so tired..."

Her pain quickly becomes panic. "David? DAVID! Stay with me now! Oh jesusgod don't do this, we can talk, I promise, I promise we'll sort it out don't fall god please don't fall..." She's weeping openly now, reaching for his hands on the rail, and screaming for the cop. The man opens his eyes as her hands close around his on the rail, she looks down at him, his face a mess of frozen tears and runny mascara and smudged lipstick, clumps of wet freezing fake hair clinging to his cheeks and he smiles weakly up at her, and he is beautiful, and she wonders how she'd missed seeing it.

The cop arrives and reaches over the rail, grasping the man and supporting him, but he's too heavy to lift, so she leans over the icy rail on her tiptoes reaching down to help hold him but his shoes slip a little and she overbalances and
just
like
that
she's gone.

And keeping to himself he plays the game
Without her love it always ends the same
While life goes on around him everywhere
He's playing Solitaire

Author's note:
This is my first attempt at writing anything other than song parodies. Please be gentle, but constructive criticism is welcome.

The song is Solitaire, by Neil Sedaka. I have always loved this song, even though it usually makes me cry. But I honestly had no idea where this story was going, until it was too late.