My body shakes, so it doesn’t fall apart, but my voice cracks anyway. I tell myself that no one heard it—that they noticed none of my splinters—but their eyes soften for me.
I’m sorry.
Please, Susie. Please understand that we really don’t have any other choice.
Shuffling back to stand beside Bunny, we watch as every form of grief passes through her expression. We see every phase until, finally, acceptance weighs heavily on her shoulders. There is no changing our mind, she comes to realize, so she stops trying to. Reaching into the pocket of her pants, Susie pulls out a crumpled ball of cash. For a long moment, she simply stares into Bunny’s eyes, conveying a message that’s not meant for me, before bringing us in for an all-consuming hug.
I don’t deny myself the opportunity to sink into her. It’s been so long since I’ve been held this way—since I’ve felt like a child who mattered. I take my moment to appreciate it in the same way that Bunny does. In all honesty, we don’t know when we’ll get the chance to feel this again. We can get away with all of it, but surely, we’ll have to hide out for a while, right? Wait until everything cools down before returning.
Maybe Susie will keep us? I know we’re not hers, not technically, but we’ve been here… we don’t cause trouble. Not for her, anyway. We can help. We can run the place so she can rest.
We can begoodpeople.
I want to ask, but Bunny is whispering something in her ear. It only lasts a second before they pull apart, each wiping tears from their eyes. What Susie has to say next, she says to both of us.
“Just go, babies, or you’re going to regret it.”
It hits the right nerve. Gets under my skin just enough to create some doubt. Or... somemoredoubt.
Will we regret this, Bunny?
It’s not too late to change paths, right?
But Bunny decides before the question can even be aired. She pulls me away, so I cement myself in her decision. I decide then, as we get into the car and drive away from the only woman to care, that I won’t let the doubt creep any more. I won’t waste another thought on morals or peace.
I have tossed and turned so many times.
I have fought and lost so many battles.
I will win this one. I will win for Bunny.
I will win for myself.
I hope Bunny can feel it in the way I rub her head while she cries into my lap. It’ll all be over soon.
When her tears create damp circles on my bottoms, she attempts to pull away, but I need her here. She keeps the clouds away. “It’s okay,” I promise, “leave it.” Kissing the salt away from her knuckles, I hold her against me, pretending her cries are mine, as well.
“I’m sorry.” It’s sputtered in broken, painful cracks. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I ask, but it’s a pointless question. Pressing another kiss to her skin, I only speak the truth. “I would have done it for you anyway, Bun.” No question. “I would do anything.” Until my dying breath, I would do anything for you.
Cade
Ihave always done my best not to question the women around me. My mother said they hate that. But standing in front of the roaring waves, I can’t stop the question from escaping.
“Are you sure here’s a good place?” The ferry station sits empty and alone for the rest of the night, deserted until morning when life begins again. Bunny guided us here covertly under the streetlights of shady alleys. It’s funny how safe it felt compared to the homes we came from.
Bunny stands outside the car with our belongings at her side, watching me shuffle around in the dark.
I need something heavy.
Along the port, I search the sidewalk, pushing and pulling on loose rocks until one comes away in my hand. It’s a hand-sized stone, rough around the edges and porous, but it’s heavy enough to do what I need.
Bunny, eyeing me as I step away from the ledge, asks, “Are we ready?” arms held tightly across her midsection.
“Hold on,” I mutter, dipping into the car. “One second.”
The stone sits perfectly against the gas pedal, but I have to hold it steady while I position everything else.
