If it wasn’t for Stephen and Julian, he didn’t want to think about what could have happened. He never shared what he was going through with Julian. His brother and nephew were hurting just as much as he was, but they held onto each other. Samaria, their sister, wastheir center. He hated that Nick and Stephen never got the chance to meet his aunt. Tucker was certain Samaria would have loved them. He’d sunk so deep into depression he wondered how he still had a job, much less became an assistant director to one of the top divisions of the FBI.
“I never knew you were into pain, Tuck.” He looked at the reflection to see Rochelle's imaginary figure standing behind him. “But I must admit the artwork is beautiful. I get chills every time I look at it.”
The large black shaded angel wings covered both sides of his back, in the center of the wings is a picture of a woman holding a baby in one arm while the other cupped the face of a little girl. When Tucker got the tattoo, he wanted to feel the sting of the needle piercing his skin.
But he felt nothing. Not the bite of the needle or the scraping against his skin.With blood came pain; the pain should have made him feel alive. He kept going back getting more artwork hoping the next time he would get the release he thought he needed. The only thing that seemed to help was the buzzing of the needle.
“I know why you did this to yourself, Tucker. You need to letus go.”
“How can I let you go when you are in my every waking thought?” Tucker asked, speaking up for the first time. He walked over to the bed and sat down, placing his head in his hands.
“I can’t move on until I know you’ve moved on,” Rochelle said to him.
“I have moved on, Rochelle, so now you can as well.”
“No, you haven’t,”she snorted. “You work late to avoid coming home. When was the last time you met someone or went out on a date? That’s not moving on, Tucker. And it’s not living. You can’t keep going through the motions and call that living.”
“Am I seriously getting lectured by a ghost?” Tucker huffed. “I must be fucking crazy. If I told people I talk to my dead wife, they would lock me up in the loony bin and throw away the damn key.”
“You’re not crazy, Tucker. You’re perfectly sane. I just need you to move on.”
Tucker lifted his head up and looked around his bedroom, and it was empty. He flopped back down on his bed staring up at the ceiling. Subconsciously, Tucker knew it was all in his head. He was holding on to Rochelle because she had been his everything and the love of his life. Tears pooled in the corner of his eyes.
Even after fourteen years, he remembered the scent of her favorite perfume and could hear Laura’s infectious laughter coming from her room. Tucker felt his life stopped the day they died. He’d boxed up their clothes and put them in the garage. He couldn’t give them to charity because it would seem as if he was letting go of them too soon.He took a deep, shaky breath as a smile graced his lips recalling the first time he met Rochelle.
Tucker was fairly young when he met Rochelle, she was older than him and Samaria’s college roommate, and even with the years between them, they became best friends. He was visiting his sister the day he met Rochelle and fell madly in love with her. It was not the same for Rochelle, or so she told him. She thought he was too young for her and wanted someone more mature in age and intellect. But after their first insightful conversation, he got her to agree to go on one date with him that turned into many more.
Ultimately getting engaged, married, and starting a family. Tucker had planned on spending the rest of his life with Rochelle.There would be no other woman for him. Tucker hadn’t been interested in dating since Rochelle died. No one caught his interest. He’d been flirted with but never took the bait. Maybe he was limiting himself by not going out on dates, or even having a one-night stand. Tucker knew he wasn’t unattractive in the least.
He was tall, muscular, with blond hair and green eyes. He worked out regularly, and contrary to what his brother thought, he ate veryhealthy. When he decided to show off his tattoos, they gave him a bad boy appearance that you could still take home to meet Mom and Dad.
Maybe I should start dating. But where do I start?
Before he met Rochelle, he had a particular type that he wanted. Older than him, busty, a nice round ass that he could grab during sex, and skin a tone that looked and tasted like melted chocolate. Rochelle had two out of the four things he wanted. Once he met Rochelle, Tucker’s list was thrown out of the window. For so long, Tucker blamed himself for what had happened.
Slowly as the years passed, he was able to accept that it wasn’t his fault. He’d gone through the motions ofwhat-ifs in his mind a thousand times. But he wasn’t the one that had been driving the car, it was Rochelle. He wasn’t the one to see the truck coming at them. Tucker’s only regret was that he wasn’t there when his loved ones took their last breath. Tears slipped down the side of his eyes ashe snapped them shut.
I will never forgive myself for not being there for them.
* * *
