I Won't See You Tonight

Her hand lifted from where it rested, and, pinching the thin sheet between her pointer finger and her thumb, turned the page of her book. She exhaled, her brown eyes straying away from the lines on the page in front of her to the clock. It was almost midnight.

Where was he?

He had promised that he would be home before 11:30, and now, half an hour later, she was still alone, on her comfortable black chair in the living room of the house they shared. Absentmindedly, her fingers rose to the hollow of her neck, where a necklace made of diamonds in the shape of a rose hung. The necklace he had given her. She sighed, and then tried to return to her book, but her thoughts remained on him.

 

* !

 

“No, man, I goh-gotta go,” he slurred, grinning sloppily at his buddy sitting next to him.

His friend shook his head, “C’mon, stay for one more beer. Your wuh-wife is great with you being late. Y-you know that. She . . . loves you, man.”

He nodded, paused, and then shook his head, “Yeah . . . yeah. But listen, listen. I need to go. I don’t wanna leave huh-her there alone, you know. It was nice talking with you again, bud.”

The man shrugged, “Alright, then. Careful druh-driving, though, you’re not exactly, not . . . not exactly what the cops like to see.”

He nodded vigorously, “When am I never careful?”

 

* !

 

Her eyes were starting to droop with tiredness. It was now almost one, and still no sign of him. She was beginning to grow worried. Her fingers fiddled with the necklace.

 

* !

 

Hiccup.

His eyes closed shut as the painful noise escaped his throat. He shook his head to try and fight the haze away, but he could only see that. It took him several moments for him to realize that he was taking up two lanes, and he swerved to stay in the right.

He swerved a little too much.

CRASH.

Metal parts flew around him, and before he knew it, his legs were crushed, and he couldn’t feel his entire left side on his chest. Blood poured out of his mouth, and he coughed, one of his arms reaching for the grass that was now in front of him. It was dark. Very dark.

But then, there was light. Blinding, white light drowned in his pupils, and he felt nothing. There was utterly nothing except the one thing that he was thinking, the one name that he cried out, the love and regret almost visible in that one name.

“Rose . . .”

 

* !

 

She sat straight up in her chair. A very sudden pain had aroused her from her light sleep, and the book fell to the floor. The pain disappeared as quickly as it has come.

She looked at the clock again.

2:46.

She began to pray.

* !

 

“What happened?”

“Drunk, must’ve swerved off the road.”

“Ah. S**t, is that a wedding ring?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess.”

“Who’s gonna tell the wife?”

“I sure as hell ain’t. I’m sick of breaking the news. I’m a cop, not a doctor.”

“Whatever. I’ll do it, then.”

* !

 

Knock, knock.

Oh no, oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no . . .

He wouldn’t have knocked, no, no he wouldn’t have. Only a close relative would knock, and she had no close relatives on the continent. The few that had remained alive moved away.

So the only other person who would knock would be a cop.

Was he in trouble?

She opened the door, and indeed, a gray-uniformed man stood in the doorway, his head hung down until she opened the door. “Can I help you?” she asked softly.

“Are you Rose Gerevalis?” he asked.

“Yes, what can I do for you?” she inquired, her voice soft with fear.

“Ma’am, you may need to sit down for this,” he stepped inside, motioning to the couch.

Worry ran hot in her veins, and out of that, she sat down, her hands shaking. “Is this about my husband?” she asked, afraid of the answer.

He replied, “I’m afraid so. Earlier tonight, he was involved in a car accident.”

“Is he alright?”

“No, Mrs. Gerevalis, he’s dead.”

 

* !

 

Her hand lifted from where it rested, her soaked sleeve wiping off the tears that had fallen, one after the other. The hand dropped onto the leather seat of the limo, her wedding ring glinting in the sunlight that was becoming hidden by clouds. Rain later.

The cemetery looked so uninviting that a new round of tears fell from her eyelashes. Her mother-in-law’s hand came to wrap around her shoulders. Then again, was she still her mother-in-law if the man making her her mother-in-law was dead?

The thought was unbearable; more tears.

The black casket, so ominous against the white of the gravestone and the green of the grass, was there, waiting to be buried. She stood at the base of the casket, the semi-circle of her in-laws and friends and colleagues around her. In a way, it seemed as if it was supposed to be comforting, but it was comforting in the very least. The prayers were being said, and utter fear and despair settled on her, so heavy. Her eyes darted around the saddened group in a mad-like manner, the claustrophobia that she never had burrowing in her skin.

So she ran.

She took the pain that was eating at her soul, the pain that was everlasting and ever-present, and ran away with it. Her feet carried her down the rows of gravestones, to the woods. Behind her, cries of protest echoed in her ears. The rain started to fall from the sky, dotting patterns on her coat, dotting patterns on the perfectly green grass.

Memories of him invaded her sanity. His proposal on the mountain eight years ago, their marriage in the beautiful cathedral, their honeymoon in Switzerland, his giving her the necklace as a birthday present. They made her tears come easier, flowing out of her eyes like waterfalls.

The forest that the graveyard bordered enveloped her, welcoming her with quiet and peace, but no promises of the future. He had given her promises of the future. Children, a bigger house, promotions, a new car, grandkids. All taken away from her in the blink of an eye"in the swerve of a truck.

She collapsed, the forest floor meeting her face with a shot of pain and a muffled noise. She cried, the tears mixing with rain, falling from her nose and landing on the leaves under her.

Her fingers wrapped around the diamond, rose-shaped necklace.