But sometimes, not even the sweetest gifts can stop the pain.
EPILOGUE
“Everything is going to be fine in the end.
If it's not fine it's not the end.”
― Oscar Wilde
It wasn't a conscious thought either one of us had.
It wasn't even an idea in the making. Something we intended to accomplish at some point down the line. Nor was it something we ever wanted to happen before age and realization was ready.
But as the sun rose one spring morning, over the mountains and tree tops beyond our home, I felt it.
My eyes fluttered, looking toward the window, and I felt it. The leaves of the trees shook, and I felt it.
It was a moment pure and sweet, and full of all the innocence Evie and I had lost.
The date was the anniversary of our rescue.
Riley and Abby were with their grandparents, both my parents and Evie's dad, as well as my sister's family, visiting the zoo and Elitch’s in Denver.
Renting a van, they'd taken our children for the weekend. Wanted to give us some time to ourselves knowing the day always weighed heavily on us. It was the only time we focused solely on ourselves, the only time we concentrated solely on each other. We always felt it was best not to scare our little ones with our despair. They didn't need to see mommy and daddy cry. They didn’t need to know, yet-if ever at all-why.
We wanted them to remain innocent for as long as humanly possible.
My sweet and sassy Abigail was excited to see penguins. My quietly inquisitive Riley excited to see the elephants. And dear nephew Max, he just wanted to watch the wolves, his seven year old self too cool for "little kids." And then they were ready for rollercoasters.
Their jubilation had been contagious. Had made us smile and wish we were going too.
We'd kissed them mightily, loved them close to us with warm engulfing hugs, before their departure.
We cried in each other's arms as taillights faded away from our home.
As birds chirped happily in the trees, I rolled over toward Evie, pulling her small form into my embrace. She stirred, holding my arms securely around hers. I felt her breathing, felt her heart beating. Felt her warmth flow into me.
I felt her life and the meaning behind what I had awakened to.
"I love you, Evie Sutton," I whispered into the quiet of our room.
The stillness that had settled unwilling to be disturbed.
"I love you, Caleb Sutton," she told me back, just as softly.
Moving around until she was on her back, and I was hovering above her, we shed our night clothes and joined together.
It was beautiful. It was peaceful. It was the joining of our souls and hearts, our minds and emotions, as well as our bodies.
I made love to my wife for hours. I whispered my love of and for her. I whispered my commitment to her. Pressing into her my undying devotion.
I told her I was so thankful she was a part of my life. Thankful she had gifted me with the most beautiful children the world would ever know.
Thankful for her love for me.
I told her the love I felt for her would last for eternity. That I would sear it into the very fiber of time and existence if I could.
Through her tears, she told me the same.
As we climaxed together, I pressed my lips to hers, holding her tight. Engraving my being into hers.
It was beautiful. It was perfect. It was the moment I finally felt unconditional peace.
I rolled us onto our sides, our bodies still connected. I pressed gentle kisses to her lips. I breathed in her essence. I let her breathe in mine.
Tears leaked onto our shared pillow. Our agony so great at what this moment meant. At what was being lost.
But there was no stopping it.
And then our eyes locked. Recognized. We were both filled with lamenting acceptance. Just like the moment in that dark room where we had accepted our fate. It was bittersweet. It was unescapable.
I understand when we are found, there will be heartache. There will be tears. There will be sadness. No doubt there will be anger and lack of understanding.
Our children will now be without their parents. Our parents must now bury their children after only having them back for such a short time. My sister no longer just the aunt.
It's an unfortunate, but tragically unavoidable occurrence. As this tranquil morning revealed to me upon waking. As the matching beat of our hearts decreed.
I wish things could have been different. I wish so desperately things were different.
I wish I could have had a real career, maybe even played a sport professionally. Or become a doctor like I used to think about, following in my father and sister’s footsteps.
I wish Evie could have been the ice skater she always wanted to be. Or the investigative journalist she sometimes talked about becoming while we were in biology.
I wish I could have been the kid that got to know his lab partner better. I wish I could have been the kid that spoke to her prior to that biology class. The kid that had meant to have her sit beside him. Asked her out and lived a happy life with her, dying in old age, long after they saw their kids become parents themselves.
But I wish more than anything, we could be there to watch our children grow and learn and love. Something so normal for anyone else is a fairytale to me.
I know I at least leave behind a legacy filled with love. And that my love for Evie and her love for me will always exist because of our children.
And with the copious amount of videos and letters we've written, stories we've passed to our parents and my sister; our children will know how deeply we loved them and wished we could have been there for them.
But life dealt us a hand we couldn't win with. The trauma we suffered finally caught up. Our bodies, our health, our fragile hearts, succumbing, finally, tragically, to the nightmare we lived through at seventeen.
With my last breath, I whisper my love and taste her love in return.
My eyes close, but darkness does not prevail. Thankfully, with my beautiful Evie by my side, there is only light. No longer are we locked in a place where darkness dwells.
END
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who has helped me get to this moment.
My family for believing in me when I said I wanted to write and publish a book. My friends for supporting this endeavor.
Suzanne and Amy, your support, pre-reading this little novella of mine, giving me your wonderful words of encouragement and talking with me about the changes I thought I should make, or whether something was conveyed enough or if I should write more detail; all of it means so much to me. Even though the story is slightly different than what you both read, your words of reassurance helped guide me to know this was the right path.
And to my friend, Matt. I wish you could have been here to read this. I know you would have had plenty to say to me. Love and miss you every day.
About the Author
Lynnette lives in Colorado and couldn’t imagine a more beautiful state or place to live. She has amazing friends and family, including a beautiful niece that inspires her to do good always.
When she’s not writing, she can usually be found reading or listening to her favorite band, Linkin Park.
Where Darkness Dwells Page 9