Rain
THIS FUCKING SUN. I DON’T understand why everyone gets so excited to see a huge ball of fiery gas that has the potential to burn your skin off. Its ego is unappreciated. Of course today would be the day it’s decided to make an appearance. I haven’t been looking forward to this. I tried to make this morning last as long as I could. Most of the time was spent trying to secretly memorize the lines of her face, the way her hair falls against her forehead, the way she holds herself taller than she did before. I never thought I had the ability to miss someone. Yet here we stand at the side of my Porsche getting ready for her to leave. She isn’t even gone yet and I miss her already. We ate breakfast at my table. She snuggled with Luther. Then she took a walk to her favorite spot.
“Luther.” She kneels down into the dirt, wrapping her arms around his body. He leans his head onto her shoulder as she cries softly into Luther’s black fur. Before fully standing, she kisses the top of his head. It really hits me how old he looks as he sulks all the way to the porch and stretches across the top step to keep watch.
Her eyes are red and puffy. She clears her throat, trying to stop herself from crying more than she already has. I open the driver side door for her. I wrap my arms around her small body. The power that comes from her arms squeezing me is more than I expected. After a long embrace, she backs up slightly and places her hands on both sides of my face.
“You are worth way more than you give yourself credit for. Thank you. For helping me.”
She stretches up and places a soft kiss on my lips. I lower my arms and, against my better judgment, I let her go. Her legs fold into the car, then she shuts the door. The engine roars to life, just like she has. I watch the taillights disappear around the bend of the driveway. That’s when I feel my heart fall through my body. I feel empty. I feel fucking lost. As fast as my legs will go, I run. Sticks and dead needles from the trees fly behind me as I race to meet up with her at the next bend before it’s too late and she gets too far. My breath completely gone from my lungs, I reach the bend to see the car coming. I run into the pathway and stand in front her, forcing her to stop.
“What are you doing?” she asks as she gets out.
Huffing, I can’t catch my breath to say anything.
“Rain? What the hell are you doing?”
“Stay.”
“What?”
“Stay,” I breathe, heavily.
Her hesitation is enough to tell me everything.
“I have to find my parents. I have to find myself. I have to at least try.”
How can I argue with that? It would be selfish to convince her to stay. I know the kind of man that I am. I’ve come to terms with what I’ve done. I’m the last thing she needs in her life. She needs this independence. The time to discover the woman she wants to be. She deserves the kind of man that can look himself in the mirror every night. The only thing I can do is let her go. But I won’t stop from making sure she’s going to be safe for her for the rest of her life.
“You know where to find me if you need me.”
She gives a knowing nod and, without losing my eyes, she gets back into the car and pulls away.
I walk back through the woods slowly, reliving everything about that night when she crashed into my trees. When I reach the house, I keep walking. Luther follows me all the way out to the pond that I have never taken interest in before. Now I find myself not wanting to leave this bench that I put here for Charlie. Luther sits whining at my feet. He knows she’s gone.
I’ll never understand how someone could ever hurt her. Turns out I don’t need another car to gain a project. My project now is Austen and making sure he never goes near Charlie again.
The light of day is fading and I haven’t moved from the pond. The stupid sky is clear, and the moon is starting to make its faded appearance.
“Let’s go, buddy.”
Luther follows me with his head down as we take the walk slowly back. Coming out of the woods, the house is showing her absence. Instead of the kitchen light being on and the sound of music coming from my living room speakers, it’s dark and quiet. I’ve worked my entire adult life to have this. This was what I always wanted. Then she filled my world with noise and it was beautiful. I had no idea how much I was going to miss seeing her in my house, by the pond, sitting under the rain. I had no idea it could be like that. She’s ruined me. Instead of cracking open a beer like I usually would at this time of night, I sit in the dark and stare at the empty couch that once held a scared and tormented woman. After a long while, Luther yawns loudly and whines at me to go upstairs to bed. With nothing else to do but wallow in my own pity, I go up.
Luther jumps right on the bed and lies on the end. I kick off my jeans and grab a pair of sweats from the drawer. Bending down to pick up my discarded pants, something catches my eye from under the dresser. Charlie’s journal. It must have fallen out of her bag when she was packing and got kicked underneath. These are her memories. Then again, I would be happy to lose them all if my memories were like these. I pace the floor and rub my hand across my chin, debating whether I should read more. I mean I’ve already read more than I should have. This is none of my business, especially now that she’s gone. But again, my addiction for more of her wins and I settle down on the bed with the leather memoir. I want it all. Even the bad.
Austen is keeping a close eye on me. He took my car keys, so I’m stuck at the house all day while he is at work. He even takes me to the grocery store now. I’ve really fucked this up. Next time, I have to keep going. I just want to feel free and happy. I have been trying to tell Austen I love him at least twice a day, and since I started, he’s been a little nicer. Not like I’m letting that fool me. I’ve become a really good liar. I have not one shred of love for this man. But he’s too stupid to see I’m faking it. I fake it every time I tell him I love him. I fake it every time I smile in his presence. I fake it every time his disgusting body crawls on top and releases in me. It’s the game I have to play in order to get the chance I need. I’m giving it a month. You hear me, Charlotte? You have one month. Get your shit together. You can do this.
Why couldn’t Austen have been one of the idiots I was sent out to get? I never thought I would ever want to hear those awful sounds again. Some nights they play on repeat in my head. The sound of the gun followed by the thud of the body hitting the ground. Just thinking about it brings bile to the top of my throat. I can still smell the stale air in the clammy basement. But now, after reading Charlie’s words, there’s nothing I want more than to hear his body hit that floor.
I woke up this morning and threw up. My nerves are shaking inside of me. I hope he didn’t suspect anything before he left for work this morning. My small bag is packed, my cash and credit card inside. Tonight, I run. He made the mistake of letting me out of his sight last week. He let me go to the grocery store alone, and while I was there, I made a copy of the car key at the home store down the street. It took me every bit of the last month to build up my courage, but the day has finally come. It’s now or never.
A smile spreads across my face. I couldn’t be more proud of her. It took a lot of guts to leave the situation she was in. She’s a fighter. The shit she had to put up with. It makes me sick that she had to have sex with Austen. And he came—
“Oh, fuck no,” I say to myself. The smile fades as my breath picks up. For the first time since I can remember, I begin to panic. Visions of Charlie start playing in my head. Her appetite change, the one time she threw up in the woods on the way to the pond, her sudden disgust in the smell of beer. I sit up, letting the book fall to my lap.
“Jesus Christ. She’s fucking pregnant.”