Night, Forgotten

Original Edition - Chapter 35: Now

Owen's final words to me, the words he left in a note on top of his wedding ring and a pile of folded laundry, won't leave my head. I can almost hear him speaking them aloud.

I hope you can understand.

I wonder when I'll ever hear his voice again.

Suddenly the space where Owen should be feels overwhelmingly oppressive.

Without really deciding to, I escape back outside into the night. The wind's sharp edges scrape across my cheeks but I hardly register the pain. My head is ringing and full of pressure, as if I'm too deep underwater to tell which direction is up and which is death.

Owen is gone.

I use my forefinger to twist his wedding band, which I'm still wearing around my thumb.

I'm not sure how much time has passed or where I am when the sound of a woman's voice brings me back to the world, back to the ground. I've never heard anyone yell like that, with rage and humiliation and sorrow braided together so thickly.

It's coming from the other side of the glass. I take a step forward.

Yes, I am approaching a large set of sliding glass doors. I haven't been aware of anything, not even the numbness of my skin, but now I start to take stock of my surroundings.

My feet have, apparently, taken me right up the stairs of the Dolans' back deck. I find myself outside the floor-to-ceiling glass that looks into their family room. Despite the sickening feeling that I'm being a real creep of a neighbor, I can't help but peer through the glass.

Liza, and this time I can make out her words stomps through the wide doorway into the Dolans' family room. Her tiny frame takes up a surprising amount of the space in the room as she approaches her husband. This time when she yells, I can make out her words.

"I can't believe you're suggesting..." Liza stops and shakes her head, her jaw locked open, as if the rest of the sentence is too absurd to even utter.

Marcus sits on the couch with his back to me, just as he was sitting when I arrived at their house for the Christmas party almost a year ago. If he turns his neck even slightly, he'll notice me in his peripheral vision.

Liza is moving again, approaching him across the family room. If her eyes flick upward, they will catch mine, staring back at her from the night beyond the sliding doors.

But the Dolans are focused only on each other. Even with the barrier of glass, I can feel the resentment that heats the room between them. Marcus's words drip with it.

"Tell the truth, Liza!"

Immediately, I know what he's angry about. He must have found out that she's been sleeping with Donny. I'm hotly aware of how inappropriate my presence is here, in this moment of confrontation. It's the last place I want to be. But now I'm afraid that if I move, Liza will notice me and I'll be caught snooping.

"You tell the truth!" Her eyes are wild. "Why did you make me go over there to meet that baby, Marcus?"

"What are you even talking about?" he roars.

Liza stands rooted to the floor, her hands balled into fists at her sides. When she speaks, her voice is almost too soft for me to hear from outside. "Whose baby is it?"

Marcus doesn't answer.

"Is Thomas yours, Marcus?" She asks.

The gravity of her question hits him at the same time as it hits me. My hands fly up to cover my mouth and my right hand collides with the sliding door.