Blake
TWELVE YEARS–MY son would be in middle school, and my daughter might possibly be a cheerleader, going out on first dates, and attending high school dances while Quint Michaelson would be finishing the remainder of his sentence for killing my wife and their mother. As soon as the judge handed down his sentencing, I was relieved. Although I would never forget Quint Michaelson, or the pain he inflicted on my family, I could finally move forward with my life–my future with Cass. I would never have to hear his name again.
Leaving the courtroom, I expected to see Cass sitting on one of the benches, but she was nowhere to be found inside the building. She wasn’t waiting for me outside either. Ever since I’d realized Cass was gone, I’d been searching the city for her. I thought maybe she’d been to the places that we’d visited, during her recent trip. I stopped at the various stores and boutiques along Fifth Avenue, Serendipity, and even McPherson’s. But, she’d seemingly vanished into thin air.
Taking the stand to tell the court about my wife, my first love, I couldn’t avoid the nagging feeling that something had gone terribly wrong with Cass. When I’d left her in the court chamber, she seemed like herself, so I couldn’t quite piece together what may have happened in the short time I’d been gone. Was it Kaity? Her parents? Brooke?
Dozens of possible scenarios swirled through my mind. Had our relationship, hearing me talk about Alyssa, become too much for her? Had she gotten sick? The possibilities were endless, but none were as wild as learning the shocking truth several hours later, and by a text message no less.
While answering each question from the prosecution, I’d kept my eyes focused on the door, waiting for Cass to come back, but she never did. The moment I’d been able to power on my phone, I was surprised that she hadn’t so much as sent a text to tell me she was all right. Calling Brooke, I was even more alarmed when she hadn’t heard from Cass either. The last time I couldn’t get ahold of someone I loved, my life as I knew it crumbled before me, and I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough to survive it a second time.
Reclining in my chair, I’d just finished a conference call regarding a business piece I was working on when two of my officer buddies from my rookie days of covering the city’s police beat showed up at my office door.
“Hey fellas, I think you’re in the wrong place. The donut shop is next door,” I joked.
The two didn’t crack a smile, as they spoke the words that no man is ever prepared to hear.
“Blake, it’s about your wife, Alyssa. She’s been involved in a serious accident and has been taken to Mount Sinai,” they said.
“What? I don’t understand, I just talked to her a few hours ago. She was about to go Christmas shopping,” I said, as I reached for my phone, dialing Alyssa’s number. “This is a terrible joke,” I added, her phone going straight to voicemail.
“Blake, we wouldn’t joke about this. We wanted to be the ones to come here and tell you so you wouldn’t hear it from a couple of strangers. You really need to get to the hospital right away. We were told she’s critical.”
“Oh god! Do you know if she was alone?” I asked, remembering Alyssa was planning on dropping our daughter off at my parents’ place. “And our baby? She’s pregnant!”
“Yes, as far as we know, she was alone in the car. She was broadsided, and evidence gathered at the scene suggests that alcohol may have been a factor. We don’t have any information on the baby, Blake. We just recommend you get to the hospital. I’m sure the doctors can answer all your questions. Do you have someone you can call for a ride, or would you like us to take you. You probably shouldn’t be driving.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, resting my head in my palms.
Nodding in understanding, the officers left, allowing me to gather my thoughts. Threading my fingers through my hair, I had to process what was happening. Alyssa had to be OK, she just had to be for her own sake, for my family’s sake, and for our unborn child’s sake.
Not knowing where else to turn, I quickly dialed Rich’s number–even though he’d been going through a bunch of shit in his personal life. I needed my friend. After several rings, he finally answered the call.
“Rich! I need you,” I said, screaming into the phone.
“I’m here. I’m here. What the fuck’s wrong? You’re scaring me.”
“It’s Alyssa. She’s been in an accident. Fucking drunk driver. She was rushed to Mount Sinai. I don’t have much more information. I could really use a friend, Man,” I said, my heart thumping out of my chest.
“I’ll be on the first flight out. Please give your beautiful wife a kiss for me. She’s a fighter, Blake. You both need to fight–fight for her,” he said, before ending the call.
Sitting on a bench outside the courthouse, I thought about Rich’s words. Alyssa had been a fighter. She fought long and hard enough to keep our son alive; Now it was my turn to fight for Cass.
Preparing to call every hospital and police department within a fifty-mile radius to search for her, my phone dinged with an incoming text. Looking down, I sighed in relief when I saw her name flash across my screen.
Opening the text, I was unprepared for what I was about to read. Even among the wildest scenarios that I could’ve imagined for Cass’s disappearance, I never would’ve guessed what she told me. How could Quint Michaelson be Steve Jackson–the Steve Jackson? Believing that Cass had to be mistaken, I quickly dialed the prosecutor, hoping to gain some clarity, and put Cass’s mind to ease. The stress of the court proceedings must’ve affected her as much as it did me. That was the only logical explanation–it had to be.
Ending the call, I couldn’t believe the words the attorney had told me. Quint Michaelson did at one point use the alias Steve Jackson for business purposes while living in the state of Michigan. He’d ended up in legal trouble for several driving offenses, one of which included drinking and driving, and ended up returning to his given name and moving to New York where his sister now lived.
Knowing the truth, I couldn’t let Cass leave New York. We needed to talk about the situation. Although it was far from ideal, it didn’t matter to me. In fact, knowing the truth, I just wished the fucker would serve more than twelve years behind bars–for not just his crime against my family, but for the pain he’d caused Cass and Kaity as well.
Dialing her number, I prayed she didn’t get on that plane, but I knew she had when the call went straight to voicemail. My suspicions were confirmed when I got back to the hotel and found she’d taken all of her things.
Collapsing on the edge of the bed in defeat, a sinking feeling swept over me as I realized Cass actually believed I would hold her responsible for Alyssa’s death. In my eyes, Cass and Kaity were just as much victims of Quint Michaelson as Alyssa, but Cass didn’t seem to believe enough in us to stick around and let me explain that to her. If she truly loved me as she said she did, she would’ve fought for me–she would’ve fought for us. Instead she dismissed me with nothing but a text message as a goodbye.
After dialing Cass’s phone for several hours and it going straight to voicemail, I was shocked when it actually connected.
“Hi,” she answered, barely above a whisper.
“You left,” I said. After rehearsing this conversation in my head for the past three hours, I’d already forgotten everything I’d wanted to tell her.
“I’m sorry,” she responded, her voice shaking.
“You didn’t even give me the opportunity to fight for you. You just left. You cared so little about me, and what we’ve built that you just left. You didn’t fight,” I said calmly, rubbing a hand over my face. “Why didn’t you put up fight?”
“There’s nothing to fight about, Blake! My daughter’s father killed your wife. How could you ever get past that? How could you ever look at her the same way? Look at me the same way?” she cried.
“Cass, I don’t think you understand. I. Don’t. Care! You actually think I would look at your little girl any differently than I already do? Don’t you understand that I love her just as much as I love you? She’s not him, Cass. She’s You!” I yelled, angry that she really believed the words she was speaking. She truly thought leaving was the right thing to do.
“Please, Blake, don’t yell. Don’t you see this is exactly why I left? I don’t want to fight with you. You and Alyssa had the perfect marriage. You never fought. She could do no wrong in your eyes. I can never live up to that. I’m tired of trying to live up to a ghost,” she sighed in defeat.
“You can’t possibly be serious right now? You don’t think that Alyssa and I never fought? You think it was always perfect between us?” I asked, dumbfounded by her admission. “Cass, there’s no such thing as a perfect relationship. Yes, what we had was pretty damn great, but it was far from perfect.”
“It doesn’t matter! This whole thing with Steve is just too much! It’s a sign, Blake. Can’t you see that? It just doesn’t matter,” she said flatly.
“All right,” I said, resignation in my voice. “None of this matters to you then? I don’t matter? My kids don’t matter? The life we were beginning to build together doesn’t matter?”
“I–I didn’t mean that,” she sobbed. It took everything within me not to hang up the phone and take the first flight out to be with her, but I couldn’t. I had to stay strong. I had to show her how much she was hurting me–hurting us.
“You may not have meant it, Cass, but you said it.”
“It’s for the best,” she said again. “I can’t live with the distance between us anymore anyways.”
“I see,” I said, burning a hole through the wall I’d been staring at. “You didn’t think to mention this last night when we were fucking? Was that really all it was to you, Cass? A good fuck? Because it sure felt like a lot fucking more to me. In fact, if you hadn’t fallen asleep, I was going to tell you that I was planning on taking a position with Rich in Detroit.”
“Wait? What?” she said, suddenly interested in what I was telling her.
“It doesn’t matter. You’ve said so yourself,” I yelled, throwing her words back at her.
“But, you said we needed to talk,” she said, admitting to hearing me the night before.
“So, you were awake? You heard me tell you that I loved you?” I asked.
“Yes, I mean, no. I did hear you say that we should talk, but I didn’t hear the other part. I was scared that it was all too much for you, and you were leaving. Brooke told me about the position that you’d been offered at the Post, and I just assumed that you were taking it. I mean, why wouldn’t you? It’s perfect,” she explained. “But, it wasn’t that at all. You love me? Why didn’t you bring it up in the morning?”
“Because we had a flight to catch. We had the sentencing lingering over our heads, and I didn’t want that to interfere. I just wanted it to be about us,” I sighed.
“Oh,” she mumbled.
“Right,” I said, running my fingers through my hair. “Anyways, I think I should probably go before I say something I’d regret. It’s been a long day, and I need some time to process everything.”
“So, that’s it then?” she asked, sounding surprised.
“Yeah, I can’t fight for both of us, Cass, and you’ve made it perfectly clear, by not only your actions today, but also last night, that you’re not willing to either. Goodbye, Cass,” I said, ending the call without even waiting for her response.
I may have been wrong before. That may have been the hardest goodbye.