Thank You

Love

Don't go. Please don't go.

She's staring back at me, and she knows exactly well what the look on my face means. The light in her eyes is switching off as I know she thinks there isn't even a decision to make. There are no options. She has to go back. I can read it on her, that is what she thinks, and how could I change things ?

The despair invading me feels almost stupid. If she survived until now, why wouldn't she today ? But it's nothing to say that I worry. I worry so much that it eats me up inside, digging a hole that I could never fill up again. A thought in the back of my mind like a prophecy, something bound to happen, a feeling that I could not explain. A premonitory vision flashing before my eyes, unlocked by the monstrous show I witnessed tonight. But is it only a feeling ? Is the fear taking over me ? I know it is. And can I trust my own brain ? How could I after all these years bottling up bad memories and nightmares ?

"Please don't go."

Not even her smile can ease the pain throbbing in my head.

"We cannot have this discussion again. Diana. Diana, my darling. Look at me."

And when I look inside her eyes, I can see everything I am terrified to watch happening. The violence, the screams, the chaos, the blood, the tears and the scent of death. Such horror reflecting in the blue orbs that caught my attention the first second I glanced at her. Such horror in something so beautiful, so pure. How could it be real ? How could it not ? How could I – myself – picture such terrible omens ? How could I dare ? I could never make it all up. Not with her at the center of it all.

"I can see it happening, Cate. Don't go."

"Diana, your mind is playing tricks on you again. Nothing final is coming tonight. I am going to go back to my house, get back to my babies and make sure that they are safe. That is not an option. I have to, do you understand ?"

"Why do you have to go by yourself ? Why can't you hide ? Call for help, call the police !"

Her slender fingers brush my cheek, my lips, and her own curve into a sad smile, one I have seen once too many times tonight.

"He is the police, my darling."

I back away, my eyes wide open and my jaw slightly dropping. This cannot be real. The scenario plays on repeat in my head, and it feels even more impossible each time. This isn't a movie. It is life. Such things simply cannot be true. Not so much. Not all of it. A cliché such as this cannot be something real. It simply cannot.

"There is no other choice, Diana. I have to go back. Do you understand now ?"

"I don't want to."

"I know. I know, my darling."

"Stop calling me that !" I snap, my voice sounding on the verge of tears even though my eyes are completely dry.

I can see the pain on her face. She is trying to hide it, as she always does, but I know my words hurt her. I realize that now.

"You can't call me that, Cate. It makes me feel special. It makes me feel like I am special to you. But I'm not special, I'm nobody. I'm worthless. I'm useless. I can't do anything to help you. To save you. I am not special, and I shouldn't be allowed to feel special."

"But you are special, Diana," she replies, her warm voice even lower than usual, and the look in her eyes softening quickly, "You are so, so special."

Her head tilts violently on the side at the same time as her tongue clicks, her face disfigured by her inner pain and the tears she's trying to hold back. Her arms envelop me as she draws me into a hug, holding me close to her heart.

"It isn't fair to you, my darling. You are so young still. I was blinded by your maturity, I thought... It was so selfish of me to bring you into this. Do not blame yourself. You are so young, and you have so much to learn from the world still. And I brought you into my messy life, thinking... without thinking ! I should have known what kind of reaction you would have when you found out. It was so very selfish of me. I am sorry Diana. You don't deserve another burden to bear. You shouldn't have to bear any at all. Not yours, not mine, not any. I am so very sorry, my darling."

And there, my body pressed against hers, my face buried into her soft blond hair, my tears started to flood, another time tonight. However hard I try to stop the crying ; I can never succeed. Five long years' worth of tears stream down my face and onto Cate. My body is shaking between her arms, uncontrollably, and I can't help but let go. The marble face, the mask I put on for too long finishes to fall off, and there is no point in blocking the sobs anymore. Let her see the real me, then maybe she won't leave.

"Please don't go."

Please don't go.

She holds me tighter. Her warm embrace is everything I want to know from now on. Make it be forever. Make it last forever this time.

"I am so sorry, Diana."

Please don't go.

"You can't go. You can't."

"I have to, my darling."

Please don't go.

"No, you don't. You can't. He'll kill you, Cate. I saw it."

"No, he won't. He will stop hitting me tonight. I promise."

Please don't go.

"How could you know ?"

"I am going to go back to that house, and I am going to tell him," she marks a pause, her voices shaking, "I am going to tell him that I'm pregnant."

I look up to her, staring right into her eyes as her arms are pushed away from my sides. She isn't lying. She isn't lying. She softly smiles and – her gaze now down on my lips – she puts a strand of hair back behind my ear.

"He won't hurt me when he knows. He wouldn't."

Her fingers still stroke the skin of my face while I watch her in despair.

Please don't go.

"I could kiss you, my darling. I could, but I have to go now."

Please don't go.

The words and the thoughts in my mind are all confused, one idea mixing with ten others, but one sentence sticks to me. Three words. I might not be able to get them out, to tell her. It might be the last time. The only time.

"I love you, Cate. I love you."

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i tried very hard to find a reason other than pregnancy that could've stopped andrew from hitting cate, but i couldn't, so now pregnancy just feels like a recurrent theme in my stories which wasn't intended. it was my only way out, or i thought it was, i might just be tired.
the abuser being a police officer also is very cliché but i think the character itself speaks about enough, so no need to mention it too much again