In The After

1.3 ELIZA

I startle awake from a nightmare that lingers only enough to leave my heart pounding with memory of blood and fear. I turn to reach for Cade, reach for comfort, and find his side barren and unused. Releasing a mournful sound, I pull his pillow to me, inhale his scent that is clean water and fresh air. This actually eases the race of my heart enough to sit up. The clock tells me it's four in the afternoon. So I've run from Shannon's funeral and slept through Lourdes'. Good friend, me.

I climb out of bed, go to the bathroom, and look at myself in the mirror. My overdone makeup is all streaky from crying. The bruising on the side of my face is starting to fade. I can open my right eye, but only partially. I look and feel like a monster.

I am absolutely shrouded in guilt. It's stealing my breath and keeping me frozen in a constant state of regret.

Why not me?

Why all of those bright, beautiful women and not me? It is senseless. It is wrong. I am furious and confused and so sad I can hardly bear it.

I see Shannon's children lined up at the front of the church. I hear Lourdes' laugh. I picture Tina's baby suffocating to death when she was shot dead.

Fucking Cade.

At the same time I yearn for him, I hate him. His interference at the club last week is surely why I was treated differently. If not for him, Phelps would have shot me dead, too, and I wouldn't be living in the vacuum of regret.

I know he is good for me, Cade. I know he will move mountains to help me. But I don't want his help. His help is what's gotten me in this place. His love for me is his battle cry and I just can't have it right now. I feel scraped raw from the inside out, all of the emotions clawing around inside of me, clamoring for attention.

I scrub my face clean even though it hurts a little, unzip my black dress and drop it in a puddle at my feet. Picking up Cade's Dolphins shirt, I hold it in my hand and decide I can't be wrapped in him right now. I put on one of my own plain nightgowns, pulling my hair into a sloppy bun, then ease the bedroom door open.

The house is strangely silent. So silent I think for a moment that I'm home alone. Which, honestly, would be something of a relief. He's suffocating me with his concern. I know it's totally unfair to think this way. If the situation were reversed and he'd nearly been killed in a lunatic's spree, I wouldn't let him out of my sight. But I don't deserve that kind of focus and it's wearing me out.

I look out front through one of the three spare bedroom windows. No, he's here somewhere. His car sits idle in the drive.

I feel resentful and awkward and weak around Cade and I don't know why. I'm ashamed that I didn't fight back in time to save my coworkers. I'm embarrassed that the world knows what a pathetic victim I am. I am devastated that Cade has been put in a position where worrying about me has eclipsed every other emotion. Right now, he worries for me more than he loves me. It's written all over the tragic lines of his beautiful face.

I find him curled up on the sofa in the den, on his side, his hands folded together under his chin as if in prayer. My heart hurts, swelling in my chest in spite of my need to repel him. He is stunningly handsome but never more that when all of his defenses are down and he's asleep. Sleeping and right after orgasm he's at his most vulnerable. He's still dressed in his suit slacks and starched white dress shirt. His hair is still pulled back from his face revealing the strong bones of his jaw and cheek. I'm drawn to touch him, all of those emotions in me getting pushed aside by how much I love him. But loving him makes me feel weak today. So I silently pivot and leave him sleeping.

In the kitchen, I'm dismayed to see we're out of beer. Beer, despite the bloat, is my alcohol of choice. I can excuse it away- it's JUST beer. EVERYONE drinks beer. I really don't want to go to the store right now so I'm pleased to spot the bottle of Courvosier on the counter. Sighing, I pull down a tall glass, fill it with ice and halfway with cherry Coke, finish it with a decent dose of liquor. I mix it with my finger, take a sip. Hm. It's like cherry smolder.