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“I full-on had a meltdown because I wasn’t sure if God existed today. Do you think it’s okay to subject your child to that?”
I set the oven temperature and leaned over the counter. “You were in a car accident, it’s okay to feel—however the hell you want to feel—after something like that happens. Stop hurting yourself with lies.”
Imploring eyes sought mine. “Are you afraid to die, Ian?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“It’s a part of life I accepted when I was a soldier and I grew immune to death, as tragic as that sounds.”
“Where did they go, Ian? When your friends died, where did they go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then how are you not afraid?”
“Because if it’s nothingness then we aren’t aware of it and if God exists, we have to assume it’s a place far better than the one we’re standing in. Those are the two options, right?”
“Guess so. Well… there’s hellfire and damnation for being faithless.”
“See, I’m of the belief that if there is a creator so divine, he wouldn’t have the capacity to be so cruel to those he created.”
“That’s comforting.”
“Good, then take comfort you’ll either be blissfully in paradise or completely unaware you no longer exist.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“I’m sorry that it is for me.”
Her face twisted to mask the sob she was holding. “I’m not sorry for you. I’m happy you aren’t afraid. You’re so smart.”
“As are you.”
“And still so polite,” she said as tears made their way down her cheeks.
“I have to believe there is a place for us because I want there to be for my daughter.”
Koti nodded, “I understand. I want that for her too.”
“And I want it for you,” I told her truthfully.
“Thank you.”
I moved around and gripped her shoulders. “Koti.”
“Yes, Ian?”
“Are you okay?”
“No,” she sniffed, more tears budding in her eyes. “I’m not okay. That scared the shit out of me.”
“I know, so let me put my tea down and be responsible for you, just for tonight, okay?”
“Coffee,” she corrected as her voice cracked.
“Coffee,” I whispered.
