[JMM] 27.2.1. That which is escaped now is pain to come
Everyone had gone, condolences falling from their lips and settling around her like more dust in a wilderness. She'd smiled as necessary, said all the right words, played her part to perfection as always, carrying out the necessary deception, because that was what they did in this family. What they did...only there was very little "they" left, was there? She and Peter, who would barely look at her, had gone off somewhere with Claire, and why not?
If she closed her eyes, she could see the blood on the chair, the gash in Nathan's neck, the sightlessness in his eyes as they gazed at nothing. For weeks she'd lived in denial, clinging to the semblance of what could never be again, letting her own invention fool her. Lunches, meetings, family dinners, phone calls. If she pretended hard enough that everything was all right, that nothing was wrong, that her eldest son still moved beside her, she could believe it and hold the grief at bay.
There was nothing left to keep it back now. No crowd to entertain, no family to hold together, no one looking to her to comfort. The echoes of the house settling were a testimony to the emptiness she was left with, an indictment of her own crafting, a sentence she'd brought on herself.
Nathan was gone. Not just dead, but gone. Everyone knew it now, and she couldn't lie anymore. Her fingers ran over the smooth folds of the flag they had given her as a testament to the man he'd been. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. There was no one left to hear, no one left to fool, no one left to reach for and lean on. For a long moment, she couldn't breathe, listening to her heart pounding in her chest in panic. She tried to force a breath, but it wouldn't come, no matter how hard she struggled to draw it in.
Her fingers fumbled for the phone, but there was no one to call. Peter wouldn't come back. Noah hadn't come at all. She swallowed back the scream that wanted to break out in echo of the one that had sounded so many weeks ago, but it seemed there was nothing to draw it from, and she sank onto the couch, clutching the flag and trembling. The tears still wouldn't come. She'd used them all up, and now that she needed them, there was nothing left but emptiness.
If she closed her eyes, she could see the blood on the chair, the gash in Nathan's neck, the sightlessness in his eyes as they gazed at nothing. For weeks she'd lived in denial, clinging to the semblance of what could never be again, letting her own invention fool her. Lunches, meetings, family dinners, phone calls. If she pretended hard enough that everything was all right, that nothing was wrong, that her eldest son still moved beside her, she could believe it and hold the grief at bay.
There was nothing left to keep it back now. No crowd to entertain, no family to hold together, no one looking to her to comfort. The echoes of the house settling were a testimony to the emptiness she was left with, an indictment of her own crafting, a sentence she'd brought on herself.
Nathan was gone. Not just dead, but gone. Everyone knew it now, and she couldn't lie anymore. Her fingers ran over the smooth folds of the flag they had given her as a testament to the man he'd been. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. There was no one left to hear, no one left to fool, no one left to reach for and lean on. For a long moment, she couldn't breathe, listening to her heart pounding in her chest in panic. She tried to force a breath, but it wouldn't come, no matter how hard she struggled to draw it in.
Her fingers fumbled for the phone, but there was no one to call. Peter wouldn't come back. Noah hadn't come at all. She swallowed back the scream that wanted to break out in echo of the one that had sounded so many weeks ago, but it seemed there was nothing to draw it from, and she sank onto the couch, clutching the flag and trembling. The tears still wouldn't come. She'd used them all up, and now that she needed them, there was nothing left but emptiness.