Page 43 of Absolution

I watch as he walks away, understanding more about what he's done than he'll ever know. Life has a way of making its own decisions, we either roll with them or get run over.

I decided a long time ago, to roll with it.

On the way home, I drive by Creed's parents' home. He was running earlier; I'm just wondering if he made it back. I spot all of them standing by an SUV, and assume it's his.

"He's going home. I think that might be the best thing he can do." The light changes, and I come to a stop. I keep checking my mirror, praying he doesn't pull up behind me.

He does.

I fidget, scrunching down in my seat. Hopefully, he won't pay attention. The light turns green, and I press the gas, putting some distance between us. As I thought, he rolls onto the interstate, going back to Virginia.

I release the breath I was holding, relieved I dodged one with him. "Shew! Thank goodness that's over."

"Shit!" Emmie giggles from the back seat.

"Now, to figure out how to stop you from using that word." I peek at her in the mirror, and she starts laughing again. My mood is lightened immediately.

Later that night, I put Emmie down and make a huge mistake. I go to my room, digging to the back of my closet until I find the boxes. I take them out, one by one, and open them.

The boxes. The memories. The wounds that have cut me so deep. I open them from time to time, allowing the hurt and anger to seep out and drag me back to the hell I bury deep within me.

I see his face, smell his cologne, and feel his love. It has never left me, and I don't want that to ever change. It doesn't matter how much pain it causes me, at least if I'm in pain, I'm feeling something.

"I miss you so much." I cry out, praying he'll hear me one day and come to fix me. To hold me until I'm free of all that has festered deep inside of me from losing him.

Most importantly, I free the hate that I have for him. He left us, whether by choice or by chance. He's not here, and I'm dealing with all of it as best I can.

So, yes. I hate him for leaving me here. Alone.

And finally, I re-release him. I know I have to let him go, I do it every day when I look into his daughter's eyes, and all I see is him. I allow him to be free because I would never want anyone to live with the pain that I do. One that will never heal that has changed me forever.

"I love you, still."

Chapter Fourteen

Creed

“I should’ve known better. What am I saying, I did know better, but I ignored it with everything in me. She doesn’t realize it right now, but walking away was the right thing.”

Doc peeks up at me with the saddest face in the history of sad faces. The thing I hate the most about all of this is that I feel the same way. Leaving her was so much harder than I ever imagined.

“I just don’t understand, I’ve never felt so drawn to someone. The second she laid her hand on mine, her spirit knew mine. Deep and connected in such a way, people would be in awe if they could have seen the way it set me on fire.” Doc walks over to me, flopping down by my side. I’m always surprised she can read me so well. She can recognize my pain as fast as I feel it.

“I just wish you could have spared me from this one.” I fist the glass filled with amber, downing it like I know what I’m doing. The bottle teases me, knowing this is the one night, it can get what it wants from me.

“I’ll never do it again, I swear. I can’t handle feeling this way.” Once I’ve finished my glass, sleep comes fast and easy. I’m not even fighting it; I need to forget.

The next morning, Doc wakes me by stepping on my chest, on her way to the door. As if the foot in breadbasket wasn’t enough, she jars the windows with her barking.

“I suppose you need the bathroom?” I peel open an eye to look at her. She answers with another demand. I drag ass out of the couch, which was the second-worst mistake I’ve made in the last few days.

I reach for the handle when my phone chimes. At this point, I may never drink again. I stumble to the table, yanking it up. Doc is still yelling at me, so I haul ass out the door while answering the phone.

“Yep! I’m here.”

“Good morning, sunshine.” Mark’s deep and sarcastic tone booms over through the receiver. “We’re all on pins and fucking needles over here to find out if you got laid or spade this weekend.”

There’s a noise and suddenly, Lee. “I told him what to say, but the last part was his idea.”