November 2015
I stare at him, this stranger, in horror.
There are no words for what I’m feeling. It’s like someone snatched my heart from my chest, leaving a cavernous space in its wake. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse it does.
Guilt gnaws at me, hissing that I not only failed my child, but also Wes.
Not once in my entire marriage had I ever questioned his parentage. It just wasn’t a thought in my mind. He blended in with his parents. Perfectly groomed. Charming smile. For so long I thought he was the villain. A psychopath. The cause for my pain.
But I was wrong this whole time. The realization causes buckets of pain to fill my heart.
How could I have not believed him? How could I think that he was capable of such evil?
My mind refuses to believe it all, though. It brings up memories, trying to poke holes in the story. “It isn’t possible.”
“Isn’t it though? Wes was always working, always distracted. The house tour, the dinners, seeing you with Sinclair were all moments that Wes didn’t want. So I took them. The fact that he worked in my favor was just a happy accident.”
No, no, no. Don’t believe him, my mind pleads.
But deep down, I know he’s right.
“So what do you think?” Nathan asks conversationally. “Did I do a good job telling my story? Are you happy now that you have all the answers?”
I don’t reply.
Sinclair grabs my arm and tries to pull me behind him, but Nathan reaches out and holds me back. With the tip of his knife he brushes my hair behind my shoulder. Sinclair freezes and so do I.
The blade is so close to me. One false move and he could end it for good. I should fight him. Try to move, but what’s the point?
Nathan gives me a tender smile. “Shhh…don’t cry for me. Everything’s better now. I was born from crazy. I grew up at Fairfax and I survived. So have you.”
Alice looks unfazed, staring down at the table with a blank look in her eyes.
“We belong together,” he says to me.
His hand reaches out and I can’t help but flinch.
I dodge behind Sinclair, trying to put as much distance between Nathan and me as quickly as possible. My shoulders hit the wall.
He looks past Sinclair, almost as if he’s not there. “Why are you looking at me like that, Victoria? I did this for us!” he screams.
My body starts to shake to the point I’m almost convulsing.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he groans.
Finally, he takes a step back, tugging at his hair. The grip on the knife never lets up. I feel broken, the edges of my life all around me, but all the screaming…all the memories that were trying so hard to link back together have clicked into place.
“You have only yourself to blame,” Alice says. She stands next to Nathan, staring at me with so much hate. “You made him do this.”
“How?” I ask in disbelief.
“You’ve been so ungrateful, so spiteful to Nathan. You’ve never appreciated Nathan like you should!” She gazes at Nathan with love. “You were never good enough for Wes and you certainly weren’t good enough for Nathan. So I helped him.”
“Do what?” My mind is on the brink of falling apart into tiny pieces.
“I helped him get in and out of Fairfax to see you,” she explains slowly, as if she’s talking to a child. “I let you believe he was Wes. You had to be punished for cheating on Wes and for making Nathan hide from the world!”
I can tell that Alice truly believes every single word that comes from her mouth. But to me it’s just a jumbled mass, swirling in my head, making me more confused.
“You are an ungrateful little bitch!” she screams.
Nathan turns and narrows his eyes at her. “Stop yelling. Can’t you see that you’re scaring her?”
And just like that, Alice pipes down, as if Nathan is her master.
With the knife dangling from his hand, Nathan walks over to me. I move even closer to Sinclair. Nathan doesn’t seem to notice; he has this glazed look in his eyes that makes a bolt of fear run through me.
“Say you love me, Victoria.”
My lips remain closed.
“Say it!” Nathan screams. “Say you love me!”
The longer I remain silent, the wilder he becomes. Sirens start to grow louder. In a few minutes the police will arrive. His eyes drift to the door. His hands are starting to shake. Perspiration forms on his forehead. There’s a look of recognition in his eyes. Almost as though he realizes that there’s no running. It’s all over.
And then Alice steps forward. “Just drop the knife,” she says, her voice a pleading whisper. “She’s not worth it, okay? We can leave now and start over somewhere else. But this all has to stop. She’ll never understand you.”
He whips his body around and stares at Alice. He lowers both hands to his sides. “It can’t stop. Don’t you get it?”
Sirens are closer. Help is only seconds away but it feels like time has stopped altogether.
Panic and fear start to build inside me. I feel like I’m going to be sick. But Alice is right. This has to end.
Before I can think twice I lunge forward, beating Sinclair by seconds, and jerk the knife out of Nathan’s hands. He turns around and his eyes widen. I see the fear in his eyes as I raise the knife.
Now or never.
With both hands curled around the handle I drive it as hard as I can into his chest.
He grunts. It’s a sound that comes from within his chest. He falls to the ground.
I jump on top of him, pull out the knife, and plunge it even deeper. Blood coats the blade and handle, making my hands slip. Yet that doesn’t stop me. I keep stabbing.
Anger is a hurricane of an emotion. It can sweep into your life and tear everything upside down. It steals all rationality until you have no choice but to expunge the emotion out of your soul before it eats you alive.
At this point, that’s all I want. For this to end. For my soul not to be haunted any longer.
My vision starts to go blurry, but I keep stabbing him. I can’t seem to stop and at this point, I don’t know if I want to.
“Victoria!” someone shouts. But the voice sounds far away. “Victoria, stop!”
I raise the knife one more time, only to have someone stop me. I turn and look into the eyes of Sinclair.
Very slowly my surroundings start to come into focus. Alice is screaming, her body half-draped over Nathan. His eyes are open, staring lifelessly at the ceiling.
I look down at my hands and find them coated with blood. A sob tears from my throat.
“Let go of the knife. He’s dead.” My labored breaths punctuate each second that passes by. I don’t want to let go. I’m almost afraid to. But my arms slowly extend and with shaking hands, I drop the knife into Sinclair’s waiting hands.
This can’t be happening, I tell myself. This can’t be happening.
But deep down I know that it is.
Alice cradles Nathan’s head in her lap. Copious amounts of blood seep out of his wound. Alice doesn’t seem to care. She lets the blood coat her skin and rests her forehead against his head. “Fairfax is no place for a baby….Fairfax is no place for a baby….”
Alice continues to scream out in pain. I can’t be in this room anymore. I stagger out of the cabin with Sinclair right behind me. Greedily, I suck in all the fresh air that I can. Just then two cop cars pull up, their flashing lights making me wince. They run up to us, take in our appearance. They’re speaking. I watch their mouths move but I can’t make out a single word.
Sinclair points to the shed. One stays with us, the other goes inside.
My shoulders are stiff but I can’t stop looking around. The pain around my heart starts to spread, seeping into my veins until soon it’s all I can feel. I breathe it in. Exhale it out.
I gasp for air.
I feel hands touch my back and jerk away.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Sinclair says.
Nothing is okay, and I don’t know if anything will be okay. “He killed them both,” I croaked.
Saying the words out loud just makes the pain intensify. “Our baby’s gone.” My hands wrap around my knees. I want to curl up in ball, compact this agony, and make this pain go away.
Sinclair’s hands gently hold my face. I try to push out of his hold but his grip is unshakable. “Stop, Victoria. Please.” My tears trail down my cheeks and onto his hands as I stop fighting him. “He didn’t kill our child,” he whispers.
At first I don’t think I’ve heard him right. My body stiffens.
My hand stills and I think my heart does too.
He looks me straight in the eye and says very slowly: “Our child is alive.”
The center of my life, my existence gives way over his words. Out of everything I’ve experienced today, I know that this is the one thing that will break me.
I shake my head, wanting to believe his words but terrified to hold on to them.
“The doctor was trying to tell you that he survived. He was trying to tell you that during the surgery you lost too much blood. Your uterus was taken out…you almost died.”
My lips start to quiver. Sinclair reaches out and covers my hand with his. “I promise you, our child is alive and well.”
My emotions have been jerked left and right and instinctively I want to believe what he’s telling me, but right now, there’s no room for hope, or even happiness. My mind is processing so much information. It’s almost too much.
Powerful, racking sobs overtake me and a deep keening makes my body shake. Sinclair holds me and says against my ear over and over and over: “Our baby’s alive….”
What comes after this is unsure. But deep in my marrow, I know that right now I’m at the bottom and the only thing to look toward is the top.