To the Point of Shatter

16. Aiden

        I open the door, turn on the porch light. It is late but I can't sleep. I never sleep. Apparently neither does my neighbor to the right, the older man who wears cardigan sweaters even in the summer. We are both taking out trash out at one in the morning. We nod at each other.

        Inexplicably, a shot rings out. A very loud pop. We both freeze and look at each other, unsure. Another shot goes off and I see an explosion of light throw itself between the verticals in Chloe's bedroom, hear glass break. There is no thought. I drop the bag in my hands and take off.

        "Call 911!" I shout over my shoulder.

        I burst into her house without hesitation. Chloe is here. But more...my son is here.

        "Chloe!" I call, heart hammering. I hear her cry,

        "Aiden!" and I reel around the corner in the direction of her voice. What I find halts me in my tracks.

        "Abby-" I choke, and I stagger, my knees nearly giving out at the complete surprise of seeing her. I am stunned. She is standing with a gun pointed at Chloe which just baffles me. There is blood on Abby's shoulder, a horrible black ring mottling the skin of her neck. Chloe is on the floor near the doorway to my right, holding her belly. I look at Abby. "You're here. You're alive."

        These are words I had given up hoping I'd ever speak. My voice is shaky.

        "I told her if she was going to shoot me, she'd better kill me." I look wildly at Chloe.

        "You SHOT her?!"

        "She tried. Twice." Abby's voice is not her own. It is hollow, void of emotion, and raspy. There is a gun on the floor in front of Chloe. Abby has not looked at me, her eyes not wavering from he woman on the ground.

        "My water broke," Chloe says, looking up at me beseechingly. I notice for the first time a dark stain beneath her on the carpet. I hold my hands up towards Abby. A surrender.

        "Abby," I whisper, moving slowly in her direction.

        "I can't let her go, Aiden."

        "No. I know. We won't. Look, where's she going to go? You have a gun. She's in labor."

        "She killed our twins. She had me stabbed and kidnapped. She stole you away."

        "No she didn't." I am inching forward, around Chloe who is cowering  beneath me. "I am right here. I've been waiting for you. Oh honey, how I've been waiting for you. And the rest...we'll take care of the rest. But not like this. Abby, listen to me." I have no idea what she's talking about for the most part, but the fact that Chloe shot Abby is all I need.

        "She doesn't deserve mercy from me." I stop short, look at Chloe with disgust.

        "You're right. She doesn't."  Chloe looks at me sharply and then she grimaces in pain. I return my attention to Abby. "But, baby, you have to let the police do this. I don't want it to be you. It's going to be okay. I'm right here and I won't let her hurt you." I am finally within arms reach. Careful, cautious, I reach out and touch her hand. This touch breaks the spell. She blinks, turns her gaze from Chloe. Her arm lowers and with a great sweep of emotion, falls against me. We drop to our knees, weak with relief. I ease the gun from her grip, lay it by my hip. I kiss her all over her face, allowing the adrenaline to subside long enough to succumb to the realization that she is really here, she is warm and her heart is beating, she is in my arms.

        "You're alive. Oh, Abby. Thank God," I breathe against her hair. She buries her face int the curve of my neck and grabs onto my shirt. In the distance, I hear sirens approaching.

        Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement. I turn my head as Chloe raises her gun. In one smooth motion, I push Abby behind me and lift the gun I've taken from her.

        "No," I growl. And I shoot to kill the one responsible for it all. With no remorse. Just like I swore I would.

        I have kept Abby safe at last.

      

*****************************

        The siren scream gets louder and louder until I am jarred awake. But that wasn't a nightmare. That was my life, six months ago.

        The wailing of the police and ambulance in my dream morphs into a completely different cry. It is Adam. It is my son. I start to get up but then he quiets. Abby has beat me to it.

        I am presently on a lengthy probation for assault and battery, a mere slap on the wrist. The judge took into consideration the plethora of extenuating circumstances, especially the fact that I was defending the life of myself and my wife. The state lowered my charge to this instead of the attempted murder which I admit was my intent. I never spent one night in jail.

        Neither did Abby. The state refused to charge her at all. She had had no choice. To escape, to live, she had to kill Jack Franklin. She is rather regarded as a hero. She went from being a victim to not just a survivor, but a victor. She is strong and amazing in every way. When asked why she didn't defend herself when Chloe shot at her twice, her answer is simple: she had already taken a life that day. She was unwilling to do it again.

        Chloe is in prison awaiting trial. First degree murder is first on her list of charges, for our twins. There are many others. The diary confiscated from her home was full of details even Abby was unable to unravel. Like the fact that when she started to spiral into her obsession for me, she gave me rophynol the night I tried to comfort her after her mother's supposed death. As a way to plant suspicion in Abby, in the hopes that she would leave me. And she had never been on birth control. Adam's conception was as planned out as the rest of it. And I fell for it. She is guilty, but there remains no redemption for me. I am also guilty, and I have to live with that.

        Chloe has recovered from a gunshot wound to the chest. The one I'd meant to kill her with. She will not see freedom for a long time. If ever.

        And my son. He was born by emergency c-section the night this all ended. And began. He is healthy and happy. He was proven mine by a paternity test after his birth. But we knew before the results came back what they would be. He has my eyes.

        If anything is to be learned from the past year and a half, it is this: take nothing for granted. What you have, what you love, can be taken from you in an instant. And the thief can come in the form of a sheep. But underneath it all lurks a wolf. And it bites.

        "What's the matter, little man?" I hear Abby coo to Adam. We are the four As now. It is nothing short of miraculous. I hear a contented sigh over the baby monitor, the soft squeak of the rocker going back and forth.

        "Everything's alright. Mommy's here," my wife whispers to my son

        And here lies the other truth learned in all of this. That we, all of us, despite all odds, can come to the point of shatter and hold together.

        See? We're holding together still.

       

         I close my eyes with a smile on my lips.

        And I sleep.

THE END

(original completion date 7-14-11)