You can’t do this to me anymore.

It’s been two weeks. Two long, lonely weeks have passed since the last time I saw you.

I’m done crying. I’m done waiting for the phone to ring, and I’m done worrying about you.

I spent last night shoving everything you left behind into a garbage bag. Your clothes, your mail, your old pair of Nikes, the half-empty bottle of shampoo you left sitting on the corner of the bathtub. I tore up all of our pictures and threw them away as well. I cried at first, remembering how much I loved you once. Then I thought about all the times you hurt me over the last five years, and I realized that you don’t deserve my tears.

You took so much away from me. My friends, my family, my future.

My child.

We never talked about that, did we? You knew what you did that day. You held my hand in the ambulance and sat beside me at the hospital. You didn’t speak up when the nurse asked what happened to me– I lied for you. I still don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I thought you might change after that. It might have been fear that made me lie. Whatever it was, I wish I had told the truth. I should have told them all that you did it to me, that you killed our baby as it grew inside me.

I stopped loving you that day. Did you know that? I think that you did. You were nice to me for a little while after that, acting like I was more to you than just a punching bag. It was too late, though. You took away the one thing I had left, and you showed no remorse. I hated you so much, but I stayed.

I stayed because I had nowhere else to go. My family wouldn’t take me back, and I couldn’t support myself waiting tables. So I stayed in that apartment, and I waited for you to start drinking again. I’d wait until the bottle was half empty in your hand, and then I’d say something to piss you off.

Sometimes you’d hit me. I’d watch your fist come towards my body, hoping that this time would be the last. This time, you would finish the job. But you never did. The part of your conscience that still remained always stopped you, and I hated you more for that.

But now, it’s over. You left without saying goodbye, without giving me a reason. You were just gone, and I was happy for the first time since the night we met. You told me for years that I could never do better than you, and the truth was that you couldn’t do better than me. I don’t care where you are anymore– lying in a gutter somewhere, sitting in a jail cell, or sleeping in another woman’s bed. You’re finally out of my life, and now I have the chance to get that life back.

My only regret is that I didn’t see through you sooner.


I needed a distraction from packing…

Mark sat on the floor next to the bed in his black tuxedo, covering his face with his hands. Carly didn’t say anything as she watched him, her heart breaking with his. She leaned over the side of the bed and put her arms around him, and he rested his head against her. She held him tight as her tears began to fall. She couldn’t make him stop hurting, no matter how hard she tried. She could only be there for him, and keep her arms around him as long as he’d let her.

He had been shunned again by his family, his friends. They smelled alcohol on his breath and they turned him away from his brother’s wedding, as she knew they would. He wanted to make amends to them. He wanted to tell them how sorry he was, that he’d never hurt them again. But they hadn’t forgotten that night so long ago, the night he lost control. It was the night they lost their little girl, and he was to blame.

Sometimes, he wished he had been prosecuted for his crime. After all, he had been driving that night. He had had a few shots before Sadie called and begged him to pick her up from her boyfriend’s house. He heard the desperation in her voice as she told him what was happening and begged him not to call their mom and dad. So he went to her, and he found her shivering on the corner a few blocks away from Nathan’s house in a short red dress and silver high heels. He turned the heat up all the way when she got into the car.

She was crying as she told him what had happened. He held her hand, as he had done so many times over the years. He got angry as she spoke, and he thought about going back to Nathan’s house after he took Sadie home. He would beat the little fucker into submission for hurting his baby sister.

He heard Sadie scream, and he was snapped out of his thoughts. The car was already in the middle of the intersection when he finally noticed that the light was red, and a horn blared beside them. Glass shattered all around Sadie, and he saw her body twist and jolt as the metal around her gave in to the pickup truck. His head bounced off the steering wheel, and blackness followed the blinding pain.

When he awoke again, he was still inside the car. Sadie was next to him, and her face was covered in blood. He reached for her, whispered her name. She didn’t move. He yelled for help. Soon he heard the wail of sirens, and he pleaded with his baby sister to hold on until someone came to help.

They pulled him out of the car first. He told them over and over again that he was fine, that Sadie was the one who needed help. He heard a paramedic say that they were too late, that she had died on impact. Mark tried to get up from the stretcher, but they held him down. They inserted a thin needle into his arm as they loaded him into the ambulance, and everything went black again.

It had been 8 years since that night, and it still haunted him each and every day. He turned to liquor to kill the memories, but each drink only reminded him that he was responsible for his sister’s death. She would be 24 now, and she would have been a bridesmaid in Tyler’s wedding. Things should have turned out so differently.

Now, Mark had no family. His parents didn’t press charges against him– sometimes, he wished they had. If he had gone to jail for manslaughter, at least they could have gotten the retribution they deserved for losing their little girl. He wished that he had died instead. Sadie would have done so much more with her life. He couldn’t even hold a job, and he spent most of his waking hours in a drunken haze.

Carly loved him, though. She had loved him before that awful night, and she would spend the rest of her life loving him. She tried so hard to convince him to stop drinking, but reality was just too much for him to handle. Guilt weighed heavily upon him. He missed Sadie so much, and his family’s scorn, however deserved it might be, only added to his burden. They had made it clear that they would never be able to forgive him as long as he was still drinking. Each time he emptied a bottle, he promised it would be his last one. For them. For himself. For the woman who, despite how much he told her to leave him, wouldn’t let him be alone.

But tonight, he would sober up. Tonight, he would face his demons. He would remember that night again in his dreams, and he would hear Sadie’s last scream. He would never forgive himself for what he had done, but he could atone for it. He could stop drinking now and live the life he stole from Sadie. He held Carly tight and whispered to her:

“I’m sorry.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks and landed on his jacket. She had waited so long to hear those words, and for the changes that would inevitably follow. This was the man she had fallen in love with, not the drunk she had been taking care of for the last 8 years. She held him tighter, and he took her hands in his.

“I love you. And I forgive you,” she said.

A long road lay ahead of them both. There would be sleepless nights, bottomless depression, and ghosts of the past to draw him back towards the bottle. But for now, they had this moment. They had the promise that somehow, the future would be brighter.