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Days pass and she still lies beside me. I know this isn’t what she would want. She would probably yell at me by now.
I pull myself out of bed. Making coffee isn’t the same anymore since she’s not here to drink it with me. Or maybe it’s because it’s not being drunk to keep me awake so I can watch her and make sure she’s okay. I grab a smoke and light it on my way outside.
I find the perfect spot and start digging because, if she’s going to be here, I’m going to keep her forever.
After I’ve dug enough down, I climb out of the hole and walk into the house. Wrapping her body with her favourite blanket, I carry her to the backyard. While I slip her over my shoulder, holding her as tight as I can, I lower both of us into the hole and ease her into the dirt. I lay beside her, stroking her hair with my fingers, trying to memorize her face, and I choke on my tears. I press my lips to her forehead and climb out, lighting another cigarette.
I look to the sky for answers, but no one is going to answer me. Nothing is going to change, and I can’t do anything to bring her back to me. It takes every ounce of strength to fill the hole. Grief grips me in an angry fist and my thoughts turn to black sludge as the dirt covers her and she’s gone. I want to join her. The only way for us to be together forever is for me to follow her again, find her, and never let go.
As I lay on the grass next to the soil, I close my eyes and imagine a world where we live together forever and we never have to let go. Anger runs through my veins. The people responsible for this must meet their maker first. I can’t just wallow until death finds me. My life would be for nothing.
I jump up and head into the house, changing into jeans and her favourite band tee. Grabbing my wallet and keys, I put on my hat and get to the car. Pink dahlias are what I need first. Finding them at the flower store, I drive home and plant them over her. I would have bought her every fucking one on the planet if she would have just stayed here with me.I pull my phone out of my pocket and call Mr. Sharp. Fear has left my body, and nothing is as dangerous as a person with nothing to lose.
“Sebastian, did you pick a vacation spot?” His voice is calm and confident.
Mine is thick with torturous grief. “I need a favour.”
“Come to my house. We’ll talk it over.” He ends the call before I can ask anything more.
Checking the time, I see that whatever half-assed plan I have will have to wait until tomorrow, but it doesn’t stop me from driving to his house. The guards open the door and I’m vaguely aware of what a mess I look like.
“Sebastian, what is it?”
My face must give away anything I’m feeling. “I need a gun.” I exhale a deep breath, my cheeks blow out.
“Let’s sit. We can talk this over,” he says as he crosses to the table. The last fucking thing I want to do is talk about this, but I know he can get me what I want.
“We’ve talked before about how Marla goes to that mental health service centre, the despicable place that is. The night you sent me home early, I found her in the tub. I need the gun for reasons because I can’t just–”
He puts his palm up. “I don’t want to know who, or what, because it’s an implication that I can’t have on my shoulders. But I’ll show you how to use it. Let’s go to the backyard.”
Relief floods my body. Without thinking about it, I follow him as we go to the yard. There are targets along the back tree line.
“We practice from time to time. I need to make sure all my guards have proper aim. This is a 9mm, semi-automatic. It doesn’t continue to fire after you’ve pulled the trigger. Each pull will discharge one bullet. It offers more control and holds ten rounds plus one in the chamber. Each magazine will hold ten, but I’m hoping you don’t need twenty-one shots.”
I nod as he continues to explain. He shows me how to hold it. I watch him fire off some shots and he hands it to me. We spend the next few hours, until night falls, practicing and working on my aim. I feel confident that I have everything I need.
“Will you join me for dinner?”
I look at him, bewildered. “Yeah, I guess.”
We walk into the house, his table already set, and a wide-set woman brings out two plates of chicken and potatoes. He smiles at her, and she disappears through a door.
“Thank you for this,” I nod to my plate as I eat. I have not eaten much in days and it tastes incredible. Guilt follows that Marla isn’t here to enjoy it with me.
“I want you to have a good meal, a good sleep, and see how you feel in the morning. If your mind hasn’t changed, at least I’ve tried and I’ve spent your last night with you.”
“I won’t be coming back. I love the job and I’m forever in debt for you taking a chance on me, but my time is done here,” I say as I take a drink of water from one of the many glasses in front of me.
“I know. Your eyes tell me everything I need to know. A man on the edge of death has nothing left to lose. The world is a cruelplace, and it will eat your soul if you give it a chance. I’m sorry for your loss, Sebastian.” We finish our meal in silence.
As I stand, he crosses the room and pats my back, handing me the gun and extra ammo.
“Good luck, son. You have made quite the impression on me, you have shown me you can’t judge a book by its cover, because if I had, I’d have missed the opportunity of being proud for the first time in decades for the best worker I’ve ever had. You are someone important to me. I’m glad I had the pleasure to know you.” He shakes my hand.
“Thank you, sir.”
Every cracked piece in my heart splinters just a bit more, knowing he was a father figure I didn’t know I desperately needed. But it’s essential that I get back to Marla, because life is meaningless without our love.
