Farewell (P2)

Part 2 It'll be easier to understand if you read Part 1 first.

'What, what are you doing?' Kurt stares at his wife. She is bent over something in the drawer of the dresser, but jumps and hides the thing behind her back when she turns around.

'N-nothing,' she stutters, edging away from him towards the kitchen. Her hands are still behind her back.

'Siri, what are you doing?' That she is named after a phone is weird to him. She is in the doorway to the kitchen when she says: 'Look, Kurt, please don't be angry. I...(deep breath)...had to, borrow some money. So, I took your credit card.' She is easily nervous. She is biting her lip to stop it trembling.

Kurt sighs. 'Give it.' Hands shaking, she holds out his blue-green American Express card. He snatches it out of her hand and pushes past her to the kitchen. She follows him. He sits down at the table with such force the unstable chair snaps and he is sent sprawling onto the floor. Siri just watches him, chewing her lip.

'Well?!'

'What?' She squeaks.

'Aren't you going to help me up?' She sucks in a breath and pulls him to his feet.

'Now, tell me why you need the money,' he's not going to give up.

She sighs.

'Because-'

'Is there someone else?' The question is out of the blue; it startles her.

'What? No,' her defiance is nothing against his anger.

'There is, isn't there!'

'No-' she starts, then stops. Siri sighs. 'Fine. There is someone else, because you don't treat me like you used to, and I need money so I can build a life with him.' Her eyes widen when she realises what she just said.

Chest heaving, Kurt grabs her shoulders and yells, 'WHAT?!'

'There is someone else,' now she's braver. Flaring his nostrils, Kurt slides his hands down her arms and squeezes her right forearm. She squeals and twists away, but he latches on with his other hand and tightens his grip. He lets her go, slamming her into the floor.

'Dad!' Ryan is standing in the doorway, horrified.

'GO BACK TO BED!' Kurt bellows at him. The boy whimpers but doesn't move. Siri is silent until Kurt moves towards him.

'Stop,' her voice is unwavering. 'Ryan, go back to bed. Please.' The child listens and sprints up the stairs.

Kurt watches him go before turning back to Siri, who is picking herself up off the floor.

'WHO IS THE OTHER MAN?'

'I'm not telling.' He grabs her already bruised forearm.

'OK!' She squeaks. 'It's Adam.' Kurt takes a step back. He was not expecting that.

'That fishmonger?' He says in disbelief.

'Yes!' She says, pushing her face towards his. 'He-'

'ADAM?!' He roars. She is frozen with terror.

'YOU LITTLE...I'M GONNA...KILL THAT BASTERD!! AND THEN I'LL KILL YOU FOR BEING UNFAITHFUL TO ME!' He yells, choking on his rage.

'HE LOVES ME!' She yells back. He takes a step back; it's the first time he's ever heard Siri yell. He slaps her then; knocking her to the ground once more, and this time she doesn't rise. He forces himself to walk calmly into the hallway. He opens the cupboard under the stairs and takes out his trusty hammer. He gently closes the kitchen door and goes upstairs.

He stands in Emma's room, watching the baby sleep. A faint smile curls her lips and her fists are up beside her ears.

Kurt brings the hammer above his head, then smashes it down onto the baby's head. He continues to bring the hammer down on innocent Emma's head, until it's a bloody pulp.

'I'm so sorry,' Kurt whispers as he lies the hammer parallel to the now-motionless baby. Then he goes to his study and rips of a piece of paper from his pad. He scrawls on it: 'Farewell, Ryan, my son. Love, Dad.' He folds it in half and grabs a safety pin from the tin on the desk. He quietly pads downstairs and pins it to Ryan's hat, hanging on the hook next to the front door. He opens the kitchen door: 'Siri, I'm going away now. I hope you are happy with Adam.' Then he is gone, a whisper out the door, into the dark.

Thirty years later, when Kurt is seventy-five, he looks out the window of the retirement home and watches the sun rise. A single tear runs down his walnut face, running through the wrinkles like a flooding river. The sunrise reminds him of the beautiful wife he left thirty years ago.

By the time the tear drips onto his lap, Kurt Whitehof is dead.

Author's Note

SEQUAL TO FAREWELL.

Kinda

Here you go, Zubi. It explains what you want to know.