MARKI tapped my finger impatiently on the table as I scoured the small cafe. I checked the Rolex on my wrist.“Damn it,” I cursed under my breath. This was what I hated about women, especially women like her. I hated waiting. I sipped on my drink and waited for ten more minutes before I finally spotted her from the large window highlighting from her car. She drove a Benz and dressed like those rich who did pilates girls did. She had an air of arrogance and entitlement to her. She looked like she was a bitch. And that was exactly what I was going for.Jackpot.“Mark Thompson?” She asked as she finally stood in front of me.I raised an eyebrow in response, gesturing about the empty cafe. She rolled her eyes and gingerly placed her birkin down on the table and took a seat. “You didn’t order me a drink?” She asked with her perfect bitchy tone— just as I had expected.I folded my arms across my chest and matched her energy perfectly. “I didn’t know what kind of drink you like.” I lied, b
2 WEEKS LATERCHRISTIANThis entire day had been weird. I had left home in a positive mood today. I’d had breakfast with my wife and our daughter, and drove the office after peppering a thousand sloppy kisses on Valerie’s face— Grandma kisses as she called it. But once I stepped foot into the building, it was like the veil of happiness had been lifted, and in its place, was a looming darkness. Stupid things kept going wrong, things that shouldn’t be wrong at all; like the photocopying machines not working, my secretary running into the office a late and sweaty mess, or the fact that the clients I was supposed to be meeting today had randomly decided to just not show up. I looked at the spreadsheets in front of me and groaned internally. I just wanted to be home with my family. My phone rang with a loud shrill. I looked at it in annoyance, contemplating whether I should answer it or not. Finally, with a sigh, I reached over and answered."Christian Walker speaking," I said, my voice m
CHRISTIAN My wife remained a huddled figure on the bed. I moved beside her but somehow still felt so far away. Her words cut deep but I understood why she had said them. She was grieving, even if there wasn’t a single teardrop on her face. I thought about Sandra– I thought about her peaceful and nurturing energy and all the time we had spent together. She would no longer be confused or agitated. She would no longer be in pain or be trapped within the confines of this room anymore. Sandra had always said she wanted to be a bird, to spread her wings and fly wherever the wind carried her. She would be able to do that now. But while that thought was a bit comforting, the weight of all the other things she would no longer be able to do was much more daunting. Especially the fact that she would no longer be able to tell me stories of the woman who was now grieving for her. Hazel didn’t want me there, but at the same time, I knew she didn’t want to be alone. And I couldn't bear to leave he
The house was quiet. Hazel had once again gone to bed after another night of silence. She hadn’t eaten much dinner– that had become the norm recently. She barely touched her food, barely drank anything that was offered to her. She answered my questions with a soft hum or barely decipherable shakes of her head when i tried to engage her in any kind of conversation. She didn’t say a word to Tina, and that was saying a lot because they used to spend hours together just gossiping about nothing and everything at the same time. The only time I saw a ghost of a smile on her lips– albeit a fake one– was when she was talking to or playing with our daughter. She would try to keep up with Valerie’s young and bubbly energy for as long as she could, but she always gave up after a few hours, and when I saw that her fake smiles were beginning to be a little harder to keep up, I would gently steer Valerie away from her. And everytime, she would slowly go up the stairs to her room without so much as a
Without another thought, I slipped in her room. Her blind was open, the moonlight spilling in her window. She was curled in a ball, crying. Her body shook so hard with the force of her sobs, I could see the bed moving. Lifting the blanket, I slipped my arms around her, holding her close and carrying her to my room. Cradling her, I lowered us to the bed, tucking the covers around us. She stiffened, but I held her tight.“Let it out, Hazel. You’ll feel better, sweetheart.”She melted into me, her body molded to mine. Her hands clutched at my bare shoulders, her tears hot on my skin as she wept uncontrollably. I stroked my hand over her back, my fingers through her hair, and made, what I hoped were, comforting noises. Despite the reason, I liked having her close. I missed her softness melded to my hardness. She fit to me so well. Eventually, her sobs began to taper, the terrible shudders easing from her frame. I leaned over, grabbing some tissues and pressing a bunch into her hand.“I–I’m
I woke up alone, my hand on cold, empty sheets. I wasn’t surprised—Hazel had been more restless than usual the past few nights, and even more so last night. More than once I had to pull her back to me, feeling the sobs she was trying to hide. I had held her silently, letting her emotions drain from her body. I ran a hand over my face and sat up. I would have a shower, then find her in the kitchen. I had to talk to her. There was so much to clear up—a great many things I needed to apologize for, so we could move forward—together. I didn’t think I actually gave her a deserving apology for the Chloe situation. U could only imagine how it must have made her feel to live with that woman for months, and having me constantly tell her that she was overreacting. It was insensitive of me. I was a fool.I swung my legs off the bed, grabbed my robe, and stood up. I began walking to the bathroom and stopped. My bedroom door was shut tight. Why was it closed? Was Hazel worried about disturbing me?
ONE WEEK LATERHAZELThe gentle sounds of the waves breaking on the shore soothed me. I rested my chin on my knees, trying to lose myself in the beauty of the beach. The gulls flying overhead, the ebb and flow of the moving water, and the utter peace.Except, I wasn’t peaceful. I felt lost, torn. I was grateful that my mom was no longer trapped in a never-ending nightmare of painful moments, but I missed her terribly. Her voice, her laughter, the tender way she would cup my cheek, kiss my forehead, tweak my nose, the way she always knew the right things to say at every moment.It felt like there was a gaping hole in my chest that nothing could fix. I’d lost people before, but this feeling… it was nothing I’d ever felt before. If she were here I could talk to her, tell her what I was feeling, and she would explain it to me. She would tell me what to do next.I was in love with my husband, a man who wasn’t in love with me. A man who felt love made you weak and couldn’t love himself. He
“I knew I’d find you here.”“What are you doing here?” I staggered backwards as Mark walked toward me, his arm slightly outstretched. “Relax,” he said. “I’m not here to cause any trouble.”“That’s rich, coming from you.”“Ouch,” he placed his hand on his chest in mock surprise, like he was genuinely hurt by what I’d just said.“All you’ve done is try to fuck my family over in different ways than I can even imagine. So forgive me if it’s a little hard for me to believe that ‘you’re not here to cause any trouble’.”“Family?” He asked, making a face like the word tasted bitter in his mouth. “Well, where’s this family that you speak of? I don’t see Christian Walker here. What kind of a husband is he if he doesn’t even know where his wife has been for a whole week?”I flinched, like he had physically smacked me with his words. Pain seared in my chest. A gust of wind hit me, and I shivered, pulling the thin blanket tighter around me. Mark frowned. “You’re shaking, we should go inside.”He