Unexpected

| xviii | he

xviii~ the truth is a shock, and it's all my fault. Oh, I'm so sorry

xviii-xviii-xviii-xviii-xviii

It is ruled as a suicide; so soon that it is what Duke hears first.

He does not even hear about the child they found beside her, or where it is they finally tracked down the missing Stephanie Carin.

He simply hears his mother's words. "Duke, I'm so sorry... Stephanie committed suicide. They just found her."

The words do not register. They simply run laps in his head. Nothing feels real, the world surrounds Duke as if he is in a quarantined place of warped reality.

He is just barely aware of meeting his child, a little boy named Jason. Jason is comfortably placed in his father's arms, sucking on a tiny, tan thumb. His hair is fine and dark. His eyes are like Duke's. He is tiny and warm and his little bottom squirms against Duke's hand.

Little Jason is so breakable, but Duke thinks dimly that if he can bring this child into his fake protection, maybe he will be able to shield someone he loves for once.

The day approaches slowly, but before he knows it Duke is picking out an all black outfit. He is dressing Jason in a black onsie. The baby blinks up at him with those mirroring dark eyes. Duke feels little else but tenderness towards Jason.

He walks into the church with his mother and father at his side. The Carin parents look as if they can hardly stand. There is someone with them that Duke has never seen before. A boy with sandy hair and blue eyes. Unlike the rest of the mourners, he is in a purple t-shirt and jeans.

Duke hesitantly approaches the coffin. Maybe if he does not see the proof, it will never be real to him. Somewhere Stephanie will still be alive, no matter how little it is possible. Maybe she is off in New York or down in Mexico. Maybe she is thinking of him as she sits atop the Eiffel tower or walks the length of the Great Wall.

He looks up before he looks down, trying to gain some semblance of steadiness. That plastic is still around everything, but it is stretched thin. Duke is scared that everything that is held in his little fake world will fall in front of the other attendees.

He looks down.

Stephanie is just as plain and bored-looking as she was in life. Her skin is pale and clear-there is badly done blush on her cheeks. Her eyes are closed and her lips are sealed shut and painted a glossy pink. Those colors are not Stephanie. Duke thinks.

Her hair is curled and it falls around her head. Her hands are clutched peacefully at her chest, holding a rose. She hated roses.

Duke clutches Jason tightly to his hip as he releases him with one hand to reach inside of the coffin. Maybe because everyone knows that Duke loved her, or maybe because nobody has the strength to stop him, Duke is allowed to touch her.

Stephanie's skin is foreign to him. It is cold and waxy under his fingers. He gently turns her wrist away from the rose and chokes.

There is an angry red line cut against her pale skin. It is real. Duke gently places her hand back as if he is scared to wake her. He lifts the other, only to find a twin mark. He carefully replaces her hands around the rose and stands to turn and face the congregation.

He is aware of a few adults moving quickly towards him. The words are heavy in his mouth, "She's really gone."

The plastic is stretching as thin is it can. It is about to snap.