Gone: The Final Lie – Ch. 4

The hinges of the door to my 80-year-old home creaked as it opened.

There he stood, like a ghost on my porch. His eyes were dark, tired and empty. He looked up at me, hair disheveled. I no longer recognized the man peering so hopelessly back at me.

I stepped aside. Dressed in his usual sweatpants and sweatshirt, Luke stepped inside.

We didn’t greet each other. I couldn’t muster the energy to say hi. I was feeling 100 different emotions, none of which I could make sense of.

I walked to the light colored floral chair in my family room and sat down. This was safe. I could not sit next to him.

He sat across from me on the couch. He was frail.

Minutes of silence passed, agonizing silence. Did I really have to hold his hand through this too? I had done nothing but hold his hand the last two years of our four-year relationship, I guess asking him to be a man after all was just too much.

I broke the silence, “well?” I snapped.

He looked up at me, eyes still empty. How could he be so emotionless?

“I’m sorry for what I did. I’m sorry for what I put you through,” he said.

I didn’t accept his apology. I just stared back at him. “That’s it? That’s the best you can do?” I said. He peered back at me in surprise, “yes…I’m sorry.”

“Where were you?” I asked, annoyed that I even had to ask that question.

“I got a call from a friend who asked to meet me at the casino. We took shots, and before I realized it I was too drunk to drive, so I went back to his house. I got sick…and when I woke up, I was just too sick to call anyone,” he said.

My stomach was in knots. I could feel the rage building in my throat. Did he really think I was that stupid? Aside from the fact that I was already informed of his whereabouts the other night, did he really think I would believe the bullshit tale that just tumbled, ever so freely, out of his mouth.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. This whole situation was hilarious.

“What’s so funny?” He asked.

“You can leave,” I said. “You are lying. There is no saving this. This was over years ago and I couldn’t leave you. Today, I’m leaving.”

“I’m sorry, really,” he said through fake tears.

“No you’re not,” I said. “If you were, you would have come clean. I know about the debt, the loans, the foreclosure. I even know about your black book and your bookie.”

After a few more apologies and zero confessions, he walked out of my house. I watched him leave, the rain leaving marks on the grey fabric of his sweatshirt.

I shut the door, and turned the latch. Leaning my back on the door, I slowly fell to the floor.

Tears began to grace my cheeks again. I was sad, mad, shocked, numb…so many emotions collided. I couldn’t hold myself together, so I cried. I cried for the loss of my relationship, for the person that I thought I loved, for the pain that all of the lies had caused.

My whole body ached. I was exhausted. I mustered the last ounce of energy that I had and made my way to bed.

I could feel the bed swallow me as I sunk down into the covers. My eyes burned as I tried closing them. My mind raced, but out of sheer exhaustion I faded. Sleep kidnapped me. For the next 12 hours it was finally quiet.

Next Chapter – Gone: Haze