Betrayal

Chapter 57

Warren

2 MONTHS

I'm on my third glass of bourbon. It does little to numb anything I feel. Everything still feels out of place. Out of order. I don't know if I'll feel right again. A child shouldn't die before their parents. It isn't right. And it's something I never could've imagined would happen to my family.

He left a note. He'd been being bullied at that school. He hated his life. He hated everything. So he did what he did to stop it all. And it worked. Now we're left to pick up the pieces.

I haven't been able to sleep until just recently. I wasn't eating. I was drinking too much. I still can't think straight sometimes. I just started back at work. I've done my best to keep from descending into the darkness while being there for Rebecca and our children. She's a mess, more than I am, I think. Our grief is palpable and awful and like nothing I've ever felt before.

The only reprieve, the only bright spot, has been Ali. She's been by my side, here for me, keeping me from descending completely into the darkness. His funeral was the worst of it all. It was almost two months ago and it still feels like it was yesterday. We didn't celebrate Christmas or my birthday. We celebrated Ella's birthday, but it was veiled in sadness even though we tried so hard not to let it be. It's after the New Year now, nearly March, and it's all just been filled with dread and pain.

But I've only fallen more in love with her through this tragedy. I love her so much. I won't be without her. She's it. I need her now more than ever and she's been an enormous help to me. Everyone knows. She came with me to the funeral and faced them all, held my hand the entire time, and stood by me.

"Hey."

I look up from my desk to her. She's standing in the doorway of the bedroom, wearing one of my shirts, and walks slowly to me. In one of her hands is a mug that she gives to me. It's coffee. I pull her onto my lap, kiss her softly on the lips, and rest my head against her chest. She's so warm and comforting. Always a comfort to me.

"Ella is here," she says quietly.

I quickly look at my watch. It's almost four.

"Fuck, I forgot she was coming. Damn it."

I rub my eyes and take a sip. It's black and hot. She's just made it.

"It's okay. I made her something to eat. She's in her room."

I sigh slowly as tears well in my eyes. It's Friday and I didn't even think of it. My mind is in a fog. I keep rubbing my eyes, wiping my tears away before they can fall. It was a long night because I dreamt of him and woke up to her shushing me softly, holding me, and telling me I was just having a bad dream.

"Did you talk to Rebecca?"

"Tom came, not her," she says quietly. "I told him you weren't feeling well."

I nod. I'm not feeling my best. I'm so tired and my body is aching today. I've been waiting for another heart attack to kill me or for her to leave me. I'm not who I was before this. I've been angry and bitter and quick to lose my temper, then crying and sobbing at the drop of a hat. Then in moments I feel happy with her and that makes me feel guilty.

I've thought more than once if we'd never started up this wouldn't have happened. He may not have gotten into so much trouble and we wouldn't have sent him to that school. He wouldn't have been bullied. He wouldn't have hated me if I hadn't done the things I did. I ruined everything. I blame myself for this and I think Rebecca does, too, not that she's said it out loud. It's a sick, hot feeling that makes me want to die. Deep guilt that tears my insides out.