Redemption

Chapter 3

Felix slammed a fist against the heavy oak door of their bedroom in frustration. He wanted to yell and rave at Kat for her stupidity. How would it look if his wife committed suicide? He was so close to a promotion. Her well-being mattered if for no other reason than that. Everyone needed to think they had it together, even if they were really falling apart at the seams.

Another niggling feeling ate away at him too. He'd married her five years ago because he had believed he loved her. Once the shininess of being newlyweds wore off, he still loved her. But over the last year, they'd been drifting apart. It had started even before the baby's still birth.

He stormed over to the bed and flopped down on it, feeling somewhat like a petulant kid. His wife was ready to kill herself just to escape her life, and he was only heaping more sorrow onto her already heavy soul. What right had he to blame her for the baby's death? He'd had a part. He hadn't been helping her. Instead, he fought with her and became demanding. Did he love his child and his wife? Yes. He didn't have to think much about loving the child, at least. His wife was becoming less and less lovable to him lately.

Be honest, Felix. You hate her because you blame her for the baby's death. It was the last straw in a relationship already dying. He had to admit too, however, that there was a good deal of bitterness directed at himself. He wasn't so proud that he was blind to his own part in the baby's still-birth. If he'd helped her more, she wouldn't have endangered the baby's health and her own well-being so often. That was a fact, however, that he was unfortunately unwilling to admit to anyone outside the comfort of his own thoughts.

This is mostly her fault, he thought stubbornly. She should've just said no instead of doing everything I asked or demanded of her. She should've said she needed help. Darn woman was so proud that she wouldn't even ask her own husband for help when she needed it. Feeling a bit better because he could shift the blame, Felix rubbed his temples and got up to yank down the covers. A few minutes later, he was asleep.

***

An afternoon nap evaded Kat as her husband slept, blissful in the belief that his wife could and should bear all the reproach for their child's death. Her soul seemed to burn in her chest as she recalled the failed attempt to kill herself. The bitter taste of the sleeping medication still lingered faintly on her tongue despite multiple attempts to wash it away. Perhaps it was just an overactive imagination and a guilty conscience keeping it there, but it bothered Kat immensely. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and her head pounded.

She shook with silent sobs as she lay curled up on the guest bed. Her pillow was already soaked with tears shed amidst soundless weeping. Kat no longer wanted comfort. Instead, she longed for the sweet oblivion she imagined existed after death. It held no joy, but it also held no sorrow. You simply ceased to be, and that was preferable to her current situation. The heaven her parents had spoken of sounded lovely, but Kat rejected it because she believed it to be only a myth. If there was no God, then there was no heaven or hell. She would just stop existing, and it wouldn't matter what she'd done or suffered through in this life.

Getting up, she drifted out of the bedroom and wandered aimlessly to the front door. She opened it, not fully aware of her own actions, and seated herself on the porch steps. In her distress, she'd forgotten that the elderly couple was still moving in next door. Oblivious to their curious looks, she stared up at the leaves and swaying branches of the tree that stood beside the walkway leading to the porch. A tear slid unchecked down her cheek, glittering in the warm sunshine as it fell.

***

Mrs. Trenton glanced over at the young woman sitting on the neatly painted white porch. She thought she could see the girl's shoulders shaking with suppressed anguish and guilt. Pondering the girl's still form, she felt compelled to go speak with her. Her earlier questions about children and the young woman's husband seemed to have struck a nerve. Mrs. Trenton had the strong premonition that she needed to speak to this woman about that and her current state even if Katarina continued to push her away.