Chapter Three

18 10 2010

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She didn’t want the baby to be born because she knew she would be alone.  The baby was to be given up for adoption and her husband was to empty the house and leave.  She didn’t want to face it.  How could it have come to this?  She picked up a book to try to ignore what was going on but she felt herself reading the same thing over and over again.

It was Saturday and usually they go somewhere, if he was in town.  On Friday he said he had to go on a business trip.  She knew he was lying and just wanted to get away, but she would rather believe it was for work so she never confronted him about it.  It was in these opportunities when  she would call her secret and meet up with him.  Now all she had was the reminder living inside of her.  The reminder that it was no longer a secret.

It would go on like this for three weeks.  He was always gone on a business trip.  Then it stopped.  He stayed home.  There were no more trips.  No needing to escape.  It was as if he had changed.

That Saturday morning was a little different than the last.

“How are you feeling?” He was taking an interest in her.

“Nauseous.  Not too bad though.  Just a little.”

“That’s good I guess.  What have you been doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“While I’ve been gone.  What have you been doing?”

“Oh, not much.  Working a lot.  I also go to this yoga class.  It seems to help a lot.”

“Oh, good.  I’m glad you are getting out.”

“Yeah.  I need to.”

“Me too.”

That was it.  But it was enough for her.  Any other day that small talk would have been just to pass the time.  This was to help rebuild their relationship.  It was the best meaningless conversation they have had in a long time.

He got up and put his plate in the sink and left.  But the house wasn’t so empty anymore.  She felt improvement and progress and that is what she thrives on.  She went into the study and began to research adoption and agencies they could use.  She was researching for hours and lost track of time.  She printed out paper after paper and couldn’t wait to discuss it with him.  Have a real conversation.  Something she hasn’t had with anyone in a long time.  As far as anyone else was concerned this was their baby and the infidelity didn’t happen.

She heard his car pull in the driveway and collected all the information and put into a folder she conveniently labeled, “Adoption”.  She went downstairs to put it on the counter in hopes that he would see it and ignite the conversation himself.  Better for him to start it, she thought.

She placed the folder on the kitchen counter.  She heard a bang as if he had bumped his head or dropped a pan.  She turned around to see what happened.  She saw him standing there with a gun in his hand.  She saw smoke escaping the barrel.  She then felt pain.  She then felt wet.  She looked down at her stomach and saw the gun shot.  The bullet had gone straight through her.  How did she not feel it was the only thing she could think of.  Then another bang.  She felt the bullet tear through her hand and into her stomach.  She fell to the ground.  The ground was colder than what she was used to.

Her eyes still open.  She saw him with the gun under his chin.  She saw his head jerk back like a string was attached to the back of his head and someone violently pulled it toward the ground.  She could hear no sound.  His body laid in front of her.  She watched him die as she began to slip away.  She tried to keep her eyes open for the ambulance.  She wanted to live.  And then, nothing.

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