Tristan snarled at her, his lips forming into an almost disappearing line. “I should’ve killed him,” he said in a voice that dripped with venom.
Serenity slapped the island with her palms and glared at him. “What were you going to kill him for Tristan? Huh? What?”
“I had the opportunity. All it would’ve taken is one shot and he would’ve been gone.”
“Well, lucky for you your friend Ricky has far more common sense then you do.”
“You saw me standing there with the gun and you didn’t do anything. I stood there for minutes and you did nothing. Why?”
Serenity momentarily became unglued as she looked up at him, blinking nervously. “I was afraid to move. I was afraid that if I did anything, you’d pull the trigger. Or misfire.”
Anger and betrayal flared in Tristan’s eyes as he advanced towards her, literally backing her into a corner in the adjoining dining-room. “I fucking hated seeing you at that church with that man, pledging your undying love for him, pledging to love him and only him for the rest of your life, marrying him. I can’t even begin to put into words the hurt and rage I felt watching you stand up there in that wedding dress marrying someone who was once my best friend.”
Serenity stood tall to him, refusing to come unhinged again. “What was I supposed to do? Wait forever?”
“He didn’t deserve you. He doesn’t deserve you. I don’t know what he told you to make you turn against me, but he lied. He lied to you Serenity.”
Serenity scoffed at him. “Make me turn against you? Are you serious? You did that Tristan! You did that all by yourself. If Nyle lied and there’s a good explanation for it, why did you leave the way you did? Why?”
Tristan mutely stared at her. He stumbled over his words as he spoke. “Believe me baby when I tell you there was a good reason.”
“What was it then, huh? What?”
“I- “
“What was it?” When Tristan didn’t give her an explanation right away, Serenity dug into him again, growing confident with each ill-tempered word she spoke. “Answer me one question: What the fuck did you think was going to happen if you had killed Nyle Tristan? What? You thought it was going to make me come back to you?” She looked at him like he was pathetic. “Is that what you thought?”
Tristan wordlessly gazed down at her, his dark brown eyes sad and brimming with tears.
Serenity fought hard not to let his look of sorrow break her. She had seen that hapless look before and she had fallen for it more times than she cared to remember. But she was staying strong this time. “You have no idea what it was like for me,” she hauntingly whispered. “My heart was so broken I feared it would kill me. Do you know how many times I thought my life wasn’t worth living? How many nights I called out to you in the wind, in my dreams, and felt life wasn’t worth living because you didn’t answer me? How many nights I cried myself to sleep, sick with worry over you, afraid that something had happened to you, praying to God you were still breathing somewhere, even while at times wishing I could take your last breath.”
“Serenity- “
“No!” She held a finger up to him as she continued. “You disappeared. You left and you stayed gone. You called your mother; you talked to fucking Ricky, of all people! And I didn’t get shit. And neither did Nyle. But you know what he and I had? Each-other. And Nyle was the medicine I needed to recover from the heartache you gave me. Nyle was there for me. Nyle took care of me. Nyle loved me unconditionally and still does. Nyle made me the woman that I am today. His love fixed me; made me whole again. He makes me happier than I ever thought I could ever be. Nyle has been more of a man to me in the last seven years than you ever were to me in one. Why would I give up experiencing heaven with him for the rest of my life, just to walk around hell for all eternity with you?”
“Tell me it doesn’t mean anything,” Tristan suddenly said, ignoring her words as he walked close to her again.
Serenity halted and looked up at him, her pretty face twisted as she frowned. “What?”
“Tell me what happened in the hallway doesn’t mean anything to you,” he mercifully insisted. “Tell me what happened on the porch, how you responded when you saw me standing there, didn’t mean anything. Tell me my touching you did nothing for you. Tell me that you don’t feel anything for me anymore. Tell me!”
Serenity cringed and pushed against him as he began touching her face. “You tell me that,” he desperately cajoled. “Tell me you don’t love me anymore- that you don’t want me anymore. Tell me that and I’ll go away.”
Serenity’s eyes were cold and lifeless as she grabbed his hands and held them against his chest. “What happened in that hallway… was nothing. It was an 18 year old girl trapped in a 26 year old woman’s body, trying to hold on to some idiotic, childish dream she once had a long time ago about a man who wasn’t even worth the cherry he so hedonistically popped after only knowing her for four hours. A girl who for years thought something was wrong with her, that she wasn’t worth loving, and that she’d done something wrong until the love of a beautiful, giving, selfless man convinced her that she was everything in the world to him. She was a diamond and she was worth so much more than she ever gave herself credit for. He pulled me back from the brink and showed me what a real man is, what real love is.
“That girl that loved you so long ago? She’s dead. In her place is a woman who knows what’s real and what isn’t. What happened in that hallway? That wasn’t real. What happens here every day with my husband is everything. And I’m not giving that up for you. I don’t give a fuck how many I’m sorrys you spout or how many crocodile tears you cry. It will never be enough to make up for all the years you abandoned me, and it will never be enough to make me leave him. Ever.”
Tears formed in Tristan’s eyes again as Serenity continued her emotional tirade. “You want to know something Tristan? I don’t love you anymore. What we had was broken; it can never be fixed. I hate you now as much as I did seven years ago and there’s nothing you can say or do that will ever change that. Now get the fuck out.”
Tristan’s face paled at her vengeful words. “Serenity, please don’t say that baby- “
Her face was hard and determined as she continued to speak. “I don’t want you to ever come back here again. Leave me alone; leave my husband alone. I don’t want to ever see you again. Ever.”
Tristan reached out to her and she yanked away from him like his hands were on fire. Tristan’s resolve broke and his body racked with sobs. “Baby, I’m sorry. I’m sorry – “
“I don’t care!” she screamed at him, shoving him hard in the chest. She spoke through her teeth, emitting spit as she furiously repeated the words. “I. Don’t. Care!”
Tears cascaded down her face in droves and she blindly looked at him, letting her words settle inside of him. She had broken him down and she was glad. He had nothing. He was finished. He was done and he knew it. She had ripped his heart to shreds like he’d done hers. And she was satisfied.
“Get the fuck out of my house,” she spat as she walked past him, bumping against him.
Serenity stormed through the kitchen, down the entryway, and up the stairs, locking herself in the bedroom she shared with Nyle. She collapsed against the door and slowly crumbled to the floor. She vividly listened as the front door opened and closed, signaling the alarm chime as Tristan walked out of her life for good.
When she was sure he was gone, Serenity let out a blood-curling scream, her wails drowned out only by the heavy rain that had begun to fall.
Two weeks later…
TRISTAN
Tristan turned up the nearly empty sixteen-ounce bottle of Jack Daniel’s and drained the remains in one short gulp. He threw the bottle on the floor of his Mercedes-Benz GLC-Class and drunkenly glared at it, annoyed he hadn’t broken it. He’d hoped the remnants of the shattered glass would bury themselves in his skin and dull the excruciating pain he felt in his heart. It was nothing doing. This was a pain that was n
ever going away. And he knew it. It was a pain that had become unbearable to live with. It was a pain that had brought him to this current place of ill repute and self-loathing. He never thought he could hate himself more than he already did. He was wrong.
He was parked beneath an abandoned graffiti-heavy bridge that was in one of the seediest neighborhoods in town. He was alone, having paid some of the local homeless that frequented the area a bundle of money to get lost and stay lost. On one hand he was proud to have done something noble with his pathetic life before it was all over; on the other, he hoped and prayed they would do something positive with the money and not squander away their lives the way he had.
Tristan glanced up at the 5x7 photo of Serenity that was sitting in a jewel-encrusted frame on his dashboard. A whimpering sob pushed past his throat as he touched his finger to it and stroked her face. It was a picture he had taken of her not long after they’d first started dating. He was into amateur photography back then and would sometimes spend hours taking pictures of her in the makeshift studio in his home. She had been a willing participant and enjoyed posing for him as much as he enjoyed taking them. In this photo she was wearing an off the shoulder Vera Wang party dress that he’d bought for her. In the photo she was leaning against one of the large floor to ceiling windows in his bedroom, gazing reflectively into the city as she held a cup of tea in her hand.
It was a candid photo, one taken without her knowledge. He had caught her in a natural moment and wanted to capture it. She looked as beautiful in the photo as she had to him on that day. She was as beautiful then as she was now. She had wanted him then. She didn’t want him anymore. She had made that abundantly clear two weeks ago. The words she had spoken to him had shredded his heart and his insides to pieces. He had no one to blame but himself.
Tears shamelessly flowed down his cheeks as Tristan continued to gaze longingly at the photo. He had carried this photo around with him every day for the past seven years. He wanted it lying next to him when he took his last breath.
Tristan reached over and pulled down the glove compartment, grabbed the .45 caliber that was inside and slammed it shut. He nearly laughed out loud at the irony of it all. Almost a year ago, it was the gun he had aimed at Nyle’s head while he was marrying Serenity. Now it was the gun he was going to use to kill himself.
He held the gun in his head and blindly stared down at it, the events, circumstances, and memories of the last seven years floating and swirling around in his head, tormenting and teasing him. The tears continued to heavily fall from his eyes and he irritably wiped them away, wishing he could do the same with the images haunting him now.
She didn’t want him anymore. She didn’t love him anymore. She hated him. She loved Nyle. Nyle was the one she wanted now. Walking away from her seven years ago had done nothing but open the door to someone else and provide that asshole with the opportunity to take away everything they had shared together. If only she understood why. If only she’d known he hadn’t had much of a choice. If only he’d told her the truth himself instead of leaving.
You idiot! Why didn’t you tell her you were sick? Why didn’t’ you tell her you were dying?
Tristan wiped his nose with the back of his hand; then drug his hand down over his face, wiping away more tears. He jiggled the heavy metal in his other hand and glanced down at it again, hating there was no other way this could end. No matter. It wouldn’t make much of a difference to her now. The way she’d talked to him he knew there was nothing he could say that would make it all better or go away. There was nothing he could do or say that would make her leave Nyle and come back to him. Not even the fact that he’d been facing death when he’d decided to leave her. She would be angry at him for not telling her. She may not be able to ever forgive him for that.
Tristan twisted his nose and looked out the front windshield. There was nothing but death around him in the metaphoric sense. There were no trees. No flowers. No grass. Nothing but dirt, litter, and grime. It was the perfect setting. It set the stage for what he was about to do. He was going to do to himself what God hadn’t had the nerve to do seven years ago.
Without his loved ones knowing, he’d said his goodbyes. He’d called his Mother. Ricky. He’d even called his next-door neighbor Ms. Rita, who was watching his three dogs for him. He’d told her he was going out of town for a while and didn’t know when he was coming back. He’d given her the key to his house, told her where the dogs’ food was and where she could find their medical records for future vet appointments. She was a sweet older lady, kind of like a mother figure to him. She’d been a listening ear the last six months, talking to her when he couldn’t find the strength to talk to his own mother.
He’d bought the house six months ago in hopes of one day sharing it with Serenity when they reconciled. It was a house she would have liked. It included all the amenities they’d always talked about wanting, including the exact number of bedroom and bathrooms, down to the movie theater in the basement and pool in the back. He wanted to raise children with her in that house. But it wasn’t to be now. In the note he told his mother what he wanted her to do with both the house and the dogs. He wanted her to keep it up and keep the dogs there; he didn’t want them separated. He asked that Ricky come over daily to walk and feed them. That they still went to doggy day care three days a week. Aside from his Mom, Ms. Rita, and Ricky, those dogs were the only things he had in his life now that truly loved him. They were like his children. He hated to leave them, but he knew they’d be taken care of.
The people he loved hadn’t known he was telling them goodbye when he spoke with them this morning and he didn’t want them to know. He wanted this moment to be quick, painless, and peaceful. This was a decision he’d spent the last two weeks pondering. Like seven years ago when he decided to leave, it wasn’t a decision that had been easy to make. Finally, he came to the somber conclusion that he would be better off dead than alive. Living without her was too painful. He couldn’t do it anymore. All hope was gone. He had nothing to live for anymore.
He wrote a note that explained why he’d come to the conclusion he had and why he was doing what he was doing. He also wrote in explicit detail about the letters he’d written Serenity, the safe deposit box, and the location of the bank that housed them. He left the note on the dining room table for his Mom or Ms. Rita to find. Nyle may have thrown away the letters from the first year but he hadn’t gotten rid of the ones from the last six. Serenity would see them and hopefully she would read them. The sad thing was, it would be too late.
Training his eyes on the flawless picture of his beautiful Serenity, Tristan raised the gun to the side of his head and pointed it directly at his temple.
“I love you Serenity.”
Taking a deep breath, Tristan closed his eyes and pulled the trigger.
SERENITY
“Ricky? What are you doing here?”
Ricky stoically stood on Serenity and Nyle’s front porch, his handsome face cast downward when Serenity opened the door. “Hi Serenity,” he quietly greeted her.
Serenity frowned at the sad, tormented look in his eyes. “What are you doing here? I thought you guys had studio time booked until after midnight.”
“We did. We do. I… I got done with my parts earlier than expected so I decided to break out. I thought I’d come visit with you for a while.” He lifted his eyes to hers. “Do you mind?”
“No, of course I don’t. Don’t be silly. Come on in.”
Serenity stood back to allow Ricky to enter the huge foyer. She closed the door and headed towards the kitchen.
“You want something to drink or eat? I was just getting ready to eat dinner. I made more than enough so you can have some if you want.”
“No thank you.”
Serenity walked to the stove, got a plate from the top cabinet, grabbed a serving spoon and began loading her plate with home-made lasagna and salad. “So, what’s wrong? You look troubled about something.” She glanced back over her sho
ulder at him, concerned. “Is everything okay?”
“No.”
He didn’t elaborate so Serenity resumed fixing her plate, figuring he would continue when he felt ready.
“Serenity.”
Something in his tone made Serenity turn and look at him again. Her thick eyebrows furrowed with confusion as Ricky took a heavy, tattered duffel bag off his shoulder and sat it on the island.
Serenity turned away from the stove. “What’s that?”
Ricky simply shook his head and ran his fingers through his cork-screw curly brown hair. He ran his hand over his face and looked up at the ceiling, sighing heavily. He closed his eyes and shook his head again. His voice was heavy with sadness as he continued. “I feel horrible about doing this but I feel even more terrible because I’ve kept this secret for so long. It’s been eating me up inside.”
“What are you talking about?”
“When you and Nyle got married and Tristan showed up at the church… he gave me something.” He gestured towards the duffel bag. “This.”
Mine All Mine : Book One Page 11