Chapter 2 Consequences
Roman
Twelve years ago
Blood spilled while accruing three missed calls from Cass.
There’s only numbness where guilt should be.
The man deserved it. The job demanded it.
Life is simple when actions have consequences.
I appreciate simple. I respect simple.
I reach our door and before pulling out my keys, I double-check that the not metaphorical blood on my hands has been fully washed off.
Finding none, I clench all the keys but the one I need in my fist to reduce the jingle, wanting to be as quiet as possible. Though used to my middle of the night returns, Cass is still a light sleeper. But as soon as I step inside the apartment, I know something is off.
Instincts long honed, I’ve drawn the gun from my shoulder holster before ever consciously deciding too.
My mind catches up as I note the soft glow coming from our bedroom. One of the bedside lamps is on. She should be asleep. My steps quiet to near silence as I move toward the ajar door.
Looking back on this moment, I might realize that somewhere deep down, I knew what I was about to find.
The bed is neatly made, just as I left it.
Cass hasn’t thrown all the pillows but her favorite onto the floor and the comforter isn’t twisted around her sleeping form.
It’s neat and empty. The lamp illuminates a sheet of paper on my bedside table, and I know if I were to check her closet, it would be neat and empty too.
I holster my gun and pick up the piece of paper.
Roman,
I tried. I really did.
But I can’t keep coming in second.
I’m sorry,
Cassandra
I’m not surprised or confused because actions have consequences and this simply is the consequence of mine.