“I’m sorry,” is all she says, and she sounds broken… utterly broken.
A tiny bit of sympathy stabs at my heart for her. I know she didn’t intend this, I know this was an accident, but I cannot put myself in that situation again. I take a deep breath and try to expel the anger out.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” I say softly. “I’m not ready for this to happen. I’ll never be ready for this to happen.”
“I’m not ready for it either,” she says. “But it’s happening.”
The finality of her words are like the clang of a prison door slamming shut on me, and panic starts to rise. I’m not worried about being shackled to Savannah forever, because just before I walked in that door, I had been thinking how lovely that would be. What I’m not ready for… what I don’t have the courage to face, is bringing another innocent life into this world, and then suffering the constant fear that it could be ripped away from me again. When I think of how scared Charlie must have been… when I think of how he suffered… No! I just can’t do it.
How can in one moment my life be so perfect, and the next it’s collapsing all around me? As I look at Savannah’s sweet face, a face I’ve memorized so I can see her in all my dreams, I realize that all of this was probably a sham anyway. Savannah is made for someone to cherish her completely. Someone that wants to share every bit of life with her. A life that includes children.
I, on the other hand, am apparently still rooted in dark desperation to cling to only those things that can bring me comfortable certainty. I don’t have it in me to risk my heart again… not with another child. Fear courses through me as I remember that exact moment when I saw Charlie… laying there lifeless. The pain that flowed through my body dropped me to my knees. It was such pain as I have never felt, nor, I vow to myself, will I ever feel it again.
My breathing becomes a bit ragged as the terror of that moment seeps through me. I need space. I need to be away from Savannah and the unprotected life that is growing within her. I shudder in despair and walk back into the house.
Savannah follows me in, watches as I walk across the living room, back through the kitchen, and to the front door.
“Where are you going?” she asks me.
“Out for a drive. I need to think,” is all I say, and then I’m out the door.
When I close it behind me, I pat at my pockets with my hands. Wallet. Keys. I’m set.
I get in the Maserati and back it out of the driveway. Glancing up at the house, I see Savannah standing at the kitchen window, looking down at me. I hesitate for a moment before going any further, wondering if she’ll stand there and watch until she can no longer see me.
We stare at each other… moments tick by, then Savannah turns from the window and she’s gone.
I back out of the drive and onto Highway 12. I have no clue where I’m going. I just know I need to get some distance between myself and the unholy mess I just left behind.
Savannah’s sad eyes haunt me, but not enough to make me turn around and go back to her. I drive south through Kill Devil Hills and Nags Head. I think… what to do? Could I possibly raise a child with Savannah?
No, my thoughts scream at me. No, you don’t have it in you. Protect yourself.
I keep driving, turning off onto Highway 64 and westward.
I drive, and I drive, and I drive. The further I leave Savannah behind, the more the pressure in my chest eases.
I drive west, further and further away.
I turn on the radio, but the sound has no impact on me.
Charlie, Charlie, Charlie. My poor, dead Charlie.
My thoughts wander. I try to remember what he was like when he was alive, but I keep seeing his swollen, lifeless body. I think about the booze, and the drugs… and I want to get high right now so bad I almost itch. The women… countless, nameless women who I turned to, trying to drown out my sorrows. I can see them clear as day… sucking me off, taking it up the ass for me because I said so, asking me to hurt them just a little bit sweeter.
I try to think of Savannah, but her face is blurry. I can still see all those women though, clear as day.
Just as I can see Charlie… dead Charlie.
Blinking my eyes, I see the sign that says Raleigh, I-540 to Raleigh-Durham Airport.
I never hesitate a second before putting my blinker on and taking the exit.
“How many times have I told you to stop stocking the heavy items, Savannah?” I hear from behind me. Lifting my head over my shoulder, I see Brody standing in the supply room doorway, glaring at me. He strides over, grabs the case of canned dog food I was lifting onto a shelf from my hands, and easily hefts it up.