The Weight of the Dead
"'Take care'?" The word scraped out, laced with icy scorn. "You call this 'taking care'? James, you’re my husband ! We are married ! We have a daughter ! Four years! You lied to me, stole from our family every month, concocted trip lies, to console your former mother-in-law! What am I to you? A prop for your facade?" Rage and hurt erupted like lava. I pointed at the fallen phone, voice sharpening. "You even call her 'Mom'! In your midnight calls! You weep for her! James, Lucy’s been gone five years! And you…" "I know!" he roared, surging up, knocking his chair over. The crash shattered the silence.
Chest heaving, eyes bloodshot and wet. "I know she’s gone! Every damn day!" His voice dropped, heavy with despair. "But Vivian… she blames me. Thinks if I hadn’t taken that emergency call, Lucy wouldn’t have driven out alone…" He staggered, bracing on the desk, knuckles white. "She hates me, Amy," tears fell silently. "But she needs me. I’m her last connection to Lucy. Seeing her… it’s torture. Reliving Lucy’s childhood, blaming me… But I can’t run. Lucy’s last words are chains…" He shut his eyes in agony. "I owe them."
The Torn Man
Exhaustion washed over me. Rage extinguished by this crushing weight, leaving cold ash. I saw the man before me—my husband—crushed by guilt and duty. No longer the flawless partner, but a wounded soul trapped between a dead wife and his living family. "What about me , James?" My voice was feather-light. "And Amy? What are we? Supply depots on your 'redemption' trail?" "No! Never!" His eyes snapped open.He stepped forward urgently, halted by my icy stare. "Amy, I love you! I love our daughter! This family is everything! I work myself ragged to give you stability, to make up... to prove I can do this!"
His voice cracked. "But every call from Vivian, every transfer confirmation, every visit to Lucy’s grave... ghosts grab me. I’m torn apart !" He crumpled onto the rug, back against the desk leg, hands covering his face. Broad shoulders shook violently. Muffled sobs escaped. "I want out… to move forward with you and Amy… but I can’t. I failed Lucy. Failed Vivian. Failed you and Amy worse…" Words drowned in choked sobs. "Never stopped loving you… but I’m… trapped." Only his ragged, despairing cries filled the room.
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"'Take care'?" The word scraped out, laced with icy scorn. "You call this 'taking care'? James, you’re my husband ! We are married ! We have a daughter ! Four years! You lied to me, stole from our family every month, concocted trip lies, to console your former mother-in-law! What am I to you? A prop for your facade?" Rage and hurt erupted like lava. I pointed at the fallen phone, voice sharpening. "You even call her 'Mom'! In your midnight calls! You weep for her! James, Lucy’s been gone five years! And you…" "I know!" he roared, surging up, knocking his chair over. The crash shattered the silence.
Chest heaving, eyes bloodshot and wet. "I know she’s gone! Every damn day!" His voice dropped, heavy with despair. "But Vivian… she blames me. Thinks if I hadn’t taken that emergency call, Lucy wouldn’t have driven out alone…" He staggered, bracing on the desk, knuckles white. "She hates me, Amy," tears fell silently. "But she needs me. I’m her last connection to Lucy. Seeing her… it’s torture. Reliving Lucy’s childhood, blaming me… But I can’t run. Lucy’s last words are chains…" He shut his eyes in agony. "I owe them."
The Torn Man
Exhaustion washed over me. Rage extinguished by this crushing weight, leaving cold ash. I saw the man before me—my husband—crushed by guilt and duty. No longer the flawless partner, but a wounded soul trapped between a dead wife and his living family. "What about me , James?" My voice was feather-light. "And Amy? What are we? Supply depots on your 'redemption' trail?" "No! Never!" His eyes snapped open.He stepped forward urgently, halted by my icy stare. "Amy, I love you! I love our daughter! This family is everything! I work myself ragged to give you stability, to make up... to prove I can do this!"
His voice cracked. "But every call from Vivian, every transfer confirmation, every visit to Lucy’s grave... ghosts grab me. I’m torn apart !" He crumpled onto the rug, back against the desk leg, hands covering his face. Broad shoulders shook violently. Muffled sobs escaped. "I want out… to move forward with you and Amy… but I can’t. I failed Lucy. Failed Vivian. Failed you and Amy worse…" Words drowned in choked sobs. "Never stopped loving you… but I’m… trapped." Only his ragged, despairing cries filled the room.
NEXT >>
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