Blurred Lines

Chapter Fifteen

 Besides the audio coming from the GPS, all I heard were the slight breaths from my engine and the crunch of my tires rolling along the gravel. About five minutes in, clouds started to gather in ominous masses and not longer after, raindrops spotted my windshield.

My finger tapped along the edge of the steering wheel. I was nervous about driving past her house, but the curiosity of how Victoria was handling her boyfriend's murder kept nagging at me. It was a hasty and unnecessary decision, but even if I didn't see her, I just wanted to drive by.

Her townhouse was about twenty minutes away from mine, sitting beside a busy little road that led away from a neighborhood. It was skinny and made of brick with dark shutters. I drove by slower than the intended speed limit, but fast enough to not cause suspicion. Craning my head and squinting through the rain, I couldn't see Victoria in her yard or in her house. My heart beat a little as I drove by, looking at the two chairs on the front porch and the flowers planted by her mailbox.

There was a cooler sitting on the welcome mat in front of the door with a little pot of purple flowers sitting on top. My heart squeezed, I knew what that meant. Food. Dad and I had our meals covered for a couple of weeks with how much food people brought us. But this time, the food and flowers were in memory of a murderer.

Tears pricked at my eyes and I wiped them away furiously. I needed to get out of here, I don't know what I expected to accomplish by coming here. I was just hurting myself more in the end.

Thunder crackled overhead and the rain became more persistent, beginning to beat against the windshield with a fury. Lightning flashed in the distance, brightening up the gray sky for just a moment. The light was trapped, just like me, sending out distress signals from its dark place. But for some reason, it stayed there, arguing with the thunder.

My phone started ringing in the passenger seat beside me and I answered the call, putting it on speaker.

"Blair?" It was Dad.

"Hi Dad."

"I just got home." I could hear the front door close. "Where are you right now? It's pouring outside."

"I'm just running a couple of errands."

"Pull over in a parking lot or something. Wait for this rain to slow down," he instructed.

I began to pull over into a grocery store parking lot. "Okay, I'm pulling over now."

"Good. Wait a few minutes and then just be careful, alright?"

"Okay."

"Let me know when you're on your way again."

"Alright, talk to you later." I hung up the phone and put it in the cupholder, watching the rain come down in sheets outside. People ran from the grocery store to the cars, some prepared with umbrellas but one person just using a newspaper to hold over their head. I laughed silently at the sight.

A young mom held her daughter's hand, dragging her around the puddles despite the little girl's best attempts to jump in them. The little girl had curly black hair and a toy clutched in her fist. My heart constricted.

"Why can't life be easy," I sighed, sitting back in the cushion and leaning my head against the headrest. Picking up my phone, I dialed Angela's number.

My therapist picked up on the third ring. "Hello?"

"Hi Angela," I hesitated. "It's Blair."

"Hi Blair." I could hear her warm smile through the phone. "It's been a couple of weeks, how are you doing?"
"I could be better. I was wondering if you had time for a session this week."

"Hang on one sec." There were some papers rustling before Angela came back on the phone. "I have time tomorrow afternoon if you would like to come in."

"Great." I relaxed. "What time?"

"How is 3 o'clock?" She asked.

"That's good. I'll be there."

"Is there anything you want to talk about now? Just to get off your chest? We can talk more about it tomorrow."

"Yeah." I thought about how to word it over the phone. "I guess what I want to talk about tomorrow and what is bugging me is that I thought I was doing better. I had positive outlets and I had more hope."

Angela didn't interrupt as I paused before blurting out, "Did you hear of Dave Harvey's death?"

"Yes, I saw it on the news." Her voice was calm and objective. I looked up at the dark clouds. Thunder rumbled like the sky was clearing its throat.

"Ever since then, I can't stop thinking about it. About how he died so soon. Yeah, I feel bad for Victoria Johnson, his girlfriend, but at the same time I am a little bit happy that she finally understands the heartbreak behind losing someone you love."

Angela was silent and I continued, "Six years ago, when I saw her at the hospital hugging Dave, she was just so happy to see him. But when she first went in the room, she never even questioned the police officer. Later, she never approached Dad or I."

"What would you have wanted her to say?" Angela asked.

"I don't know." My throat began to close up and I swallowed. "I guess nothing really, but it just felt like they weren't remorseful. But now she finally understands. I think what I hate most is that the news didn't even recognize him as being a murderer. Instead, they just labeled him as an innocent murder victim. It's like he died and the news is making people love him."
"Why does that make you upset?"

"Because it feels like no one knows that Dave killed my mom, it's like her story doesn't matter anymore and I hate it." I ground my teeth together and pinched my nose, blinking back the tears. "I absolutely hate it."

A tear fell, landing in my lap and sliding off my thigh onto the seat. Groaning, I adjusted in my seat, feeling so uncomfortable even though I was alone. I hated that it felt like I was backpedaling because before this, I was doing great. Angela and I had our sessions less and less frequently until we stopped and changed it to where I would call if I needed an appointment.

"I'll tell you the rest tomorrow," I whispered, tired of talking and just wanting to cry in peace.

Angela interjected, "Okay, I-"

"Please Angela," I begged, softly. "I'm sorry, but can I please just talk to you tomorrow?"

She exhaled. "Sure. I'll see you tomorrow."

"3 o'clock," I confirmed and hung up. The thunder grumbled through the sky again, but the rain wasn't coming down in sheets anymore. It rolled down the windshield and tumbled over the side of the car. After a moment of listening to the patter of drops, my body relaxed and my eyes began to water.

The tears fell like the rain outside. Soft and steady. Quick and quiet. Falling down my cheeks, hooking under my chin and diving down to splash across my bare legs.

Falling, hooking, diving.

Splash.

****

There was more insight to what Blair is really thinking in this chapter, what did you think of it?

Side note: I love watching the rain. If I'm happy or sad, it just makes me feel calm. Is anyone else this way too?

Thank you so much for reading!

- Payton