Epilogue 1
WILLIAM
Two years later…
The support worker pulled into the car park, though when he went to unbuckle his seat belt, I clasped his hand in an iron grip.
His gaze swung to me in question, while mine bored through the front windscreen, giving me a direct view of Colton—and he wasn’t alone.
My vision blurred as I drank him in. My only son was on the verge of turning thirty years old, and he seemed happy—glowing, even. His demeanour was filled with attentiveness as he rubbed the pregnant belly of what I could only assume was his partner.
They were all starry-eyed and smitten, strolling towards the car park, which meant they had just been to visit Beth. The last time I’d seen my son so genuinely happy was when his mother was still alive. It had been a long time.
I tightened a fist over my sternum as my weak organ beneath gave a thunderous beat. Accompanied by tears that freely ran down my cheeks. I considered myself genuinely lucky and fortunate that I could witness such a cherished moment, if only for a second.
The simple concept of time had become a chore, a burden I had to endure, rather than a commodity I wanted to treasure or keep.
End-stage renal failure was a shit of a disease—a slow progression, rotting my body from the inside out.
Occasionally, I found myself questioning whether I should end it all—a quick fix to free me from the endless torment.
Nevertheless, I couldn’t bring myself to do that to Colton, despite not having any type of relationship with him.
We hadn’t spoken a word or seen each other since that day in the hospital. I’d attempted to reach out once I was discharged, but was promptly served a restraining order, delivered by the ever-faithful Thomas.
When my Bethy died, I believed I’d never felt so alone, that I’d never experience such isolation again.
Until I read Colton’s signature on that flimsy piece of paper, banning me from any type of reconciliation or future between us.
On that fateful day, I saw the terrible reckoning barrelling towards me that I had no power or inclination to stop.
The aftermath was unfathomable and downright soul-destroying.
My memory chose to recall every single moment I had failed my son, my family for a lie.
I had been a willing fool and didn’t even hesitate to jump headfirst into my own demise.
After I signed over my house and business, I tried to return to the everyday, attempting to regain any type of normalcy my health would allow. I should have known that the aftershocks were so far-reaching that there was no coming back from the damage wrought.
I had lost the respect of my entire community as the affair details were made public knowledge.
The few friends I had soon deserted, unable to reconcile my atrocious actions with the doting husband and father I was previously known as.
Hence why I moved away to start anew, to try and find peace in the remaining days I had left.
It was no surprise that I failed to find any.
How did I lose so much of myself? How did I allow one person to derail my character, corrupt my entire being?
Loneliness, grief, sorrow—they were all poor excuses I’d used in order to take what I wanted. What I believed I wanted. Now, I lived in an endless loop of the same sinister feelings.
Hence why I lapped up every single moment of Colton and his partner getting into their car and driving away. Their actions were menial, yet the final image of his smile was breathtaking, providing me with some form of relief.
He is happy.
I remained still in the passenger seat for a few minutes longer until my support worker asked if I was ready. He stabilised my arm as I stumbled out of the car. I told him to stay behind as I shuffled away over the uneven ground, his worrisome gaze tracking my unsteady gait.
He’d offered to bring a wheelchair. However, I refused, wanting to stand tall as I said my final goodbyes.
I hadn’t returned to the cemetery in years—four to be exact, ever since the revelations of Nikita and her schemes were revealed.
Beth was where I went to find solace, to be at peace, but after my failings and downfall, that felt like sacrilege. I didn’t want to stain her name, contaminate her resting place with my immoral presence.
Except for this one time. The last time.
I soon hobbled up to the place where my Bethy was laid to rest. Short, hard pants rattled from my chest, following the exertion. The first thing I noticed was a lone lily, fresh and stark white against the green grass. But as I came to a stop, my breathing cut off altogether.
Her headstone had been replaced, and the change caused an agonising groan to echo up my throat. The engraving once read:
Bethany Richards
Beloved Wife & Mother
Which had been changed to:
Bethany Tems
Beloved Mother
Only a few words had been omitted, yet that small alteration was monumental in its deliverance.
She was the one good thing I had left. The one true, honest memory I could cherish as I ventured into the next world alone. And I had been completely eradicated from her life.
I had been wiped from her story, erased from her past, as if we never happened, as if I never existed.
This is the true penance for my sins. To go into the afterlife without a single soul to mourn me. As for the people left behind, I will be a distant memory, never to be revisited or claimed.
Once again, the same fears awakened and began to sink in, to truly resonate. I had sacrificed everything for absolutely nothing.
My world was over before I even processed that I was the direct catalyst for my own devastating end.
And I’d live with that soul-deep regret for the rest of my days. No matter how few they were.