How Could You?

10

Wilson

Life could have a drastic turn of events. My usual beautiful, family-filled morning routine had now changed to crying sessions because the second I woke up tears would greet me like an old friend visiting.

Resisting the urge to throw up like every other dawn, I forced a pill down my throat to keep the nausea of my mistakes at bay.

I sat with my back by the bed, pulling my knees up to my chest. The lingering silence pushed my mind into chaos, my messy, bickering, tantrum queens were gone.

It was a silence that taunted me, haunted me sprinkling salt on my aching wounds, slowly, painfully. I feel like I am sinking into the ocean of shame and guilt day by day, deeper into the unmeasured depths.

These quiet surroundings were destroying me, I harshly rubbed my eyes to get rid of the stinging sensations, and when they got empty and tired of the tears I shed, it left behind a burning, having to wake up to a world where my Family, my happiness was gone.

At times I wonder if I should let things be, and push myself to the lonely life that I had chosen. Let this knife hang over my chest, that would stab me every day. Would that be enough of a punishment for what I did to Leona?

Then I am terrified of that hollow life, barren of any emotions or affections, stripped of any love and support, then I am begging the universe to give me another chance. A chance to earn her forgiveness, to make it right.

To heal and mend what I broke, to pick up those pieces of glass no matter if they cut me.

Then I faced the unchanging fact that the procedure was reversed and that glasses were now all sand, dripping down my palms, drifting away with the wind.

The only ray of belief is my memories of them, with a hope to hold Leona close again, to give her the life and happiness she deserves. To be the man she deserves.

So I was determined to meet Leona, I needed to see her. I knew I would only be further stretched into this misery. But I was running low on patience, I can't keep this up, my Wife needs to know I am deeply and utterly apologetic.

Leaving the bedroom was another torment, the house was a mess. Cleaning or tidying seemed like accepting that I was alone now, that my wife and daughter weren't coming back. I couldn't focus anyway so no point in creating more trouble.

Against my better judgment, I just washed myself and changed quickly, not bothering to shave or set my hair, any energy left in me was solely for Leona.

I drove to her parent's place, driving with this load on my chest, conflicted between whether flowers would make her happy or sad getting them from me.

I parked my car in their narrow driveway and with a heart heavier than a log, I knocked on the door, it opened a moment later, and her Mother stood there with exhaustion visible on her face.

I've truly failed everyone. This was the woman who always saw me as one of her sons. Love me just like my mother, and I broke her daughter.

Tears blurred my vision, and I just blinked constantly dropping my eyes. She looked at me with anything but anger, but the present emotion lurking much worse.

Pity that you have for an Orphan, pity that you have for a wounded animal or human, or the pity you have for a homeless person or a beggar. Unfortunately, I was all of that at once.

"I want to meet Leona, please," whispering lowly I added desperately. I heard a deep, hearty sigh.

"She's not here Wilson," her voice wavered as she struggled to speak through the emotions, that showed me I snatched a son from her. "She's at work." She says turning away, unable to keep looking at me, but not closing the door.