by C S Carver
Without a word, I shed my gear and run.
CHAPTER SIX
DEVON
The snow is knee deep as I trudge toward the house. Sarah had a rough night with the baby. I asked Max to watch him for a while so she can catch up on some sleep. Which means I got to tend the animals by myself. It’s not so bad, and with Max around, I’ve caught up on a lot of stuff that got neglected after Scott passed away. It’s nice having someone around the farm to help, and even nicer to see Sarah so happy.
I climb the steps toward the front door of the house when I spot movement by the edge of the forest. I squint to get a better look, praying it’s not those damn coyotes back for my chickens. A shape emerges from the trees, and my breath catches.
It’s a person. A man, judging by the width of his shoulders. I run into the house with my shoes on.
“Max, Sarah!” I dash down the hall and into my room. “There’s someone coming.” I pull the rifle from under my bed and grab a handful of ammo, then head back toward the front of the house.
Sarah stumbles out of her bedroom, and Max hands her little Scotty before joining me in the mudroom.
“I got your back,” he says.
I nod with a tight smile and we step into the cold. I load and cock the rifle, then nestle the butt against my armpit with the barrel pointing down. When the figure draws close enough for me to make out his features, my lungs freeze and my mouth dries.
“Sweet Jesus,” Max gasps and bolts down the steps in his slippers. He runs toward the newcomer and shouts, “Zane!”
I release the hammer and grip the rifle to stop the tremor in my hands. It’s Zane. He’s on foot. How did he survive the heavy snowfall we had? Why is he even here? I have so many questions, but I’m afraid to ask the only one that matters.
Max cannonballs into Zane and pulls him into a bear hug. After an enthusiastic reunion, they make their way back to the house. Max gives me an indecipherable look, then pats me on the arm before darting back inside. I nod at Zane, unsure of where to put my eyes and what to say. I settle on staring at the brown scarf around his neck.
He stands before me, his breath pluming, his clothes covered in a dusting of snow, and I want to reach out to make sure he’s real. I thought I was over him. After all, it was only one afternoon. Max has been a godsend, but he’s still learning his way around working on a farm and raising a newborn. Between helping Sarah with Scotty and making sure the cows don’t starve to death, there has been little time for nursing a broken heart.
Zane being here brings back all the longing and hurt and betrayal, and I’m not sure if I want to punch him or kiss him.
“Hey,” he says. His voice is a little rough, but it stirs this feeling inside me I’ve been desperate to forget.
“Hi, Zane.”
“I—” He pauses and takes a few shaky breaths and scuffs the toe of his boot on the concrete porch. “Fuck, I really suck at this. I’m sorry, Devon.” He takes a small step toward me. “I thought I could chalk this up to just another thing I fucked up and move on, but I couldn’t.”
My face must have done something complicated because he blanches. “You don’t have to forgive me. I’m not here for that. But I need to apologize. Need you to know that you meant so much more to me than a casual hookup.”
My eyes snap to his face and I study the lines etched around his tired eyes. Eyes that are begging with sincerity, and the ice in my chest melts a little. After everything, I still want him. Still want to give him that second chance, but can I really forgive him just like this?
“You don’t even have to let me stay. I’ll leave as soon as I’ve said my piece.” He shoulders his pack and grips the straps with both hands. “Max told me what you did for your family.” My heart stops. “I...my son. He was only two when—I couldn’t watch him suffer so I—” His voice cracks and the tears he’s been holding back roll down his wind-blown cheeks.
My heart breaks for him. For the life his son never had. The life Zane never got to nurture and watch grow. Giving Mom and Dad and my younger brothers peace was the hardest thing I’ve done, and the memory of their last moments will haunt me until I die. Could I have done it if it was my own child? What if Scotty got sick? Could I do that to him? I shudder as guilty relief slithers through me. Scotty is healthy, so I hope to never find out.
“Zane—”
“I get that I had to,” Zane continues between shuddering breaths as if he hasn’t heard me. “I get it. But I killed him, Devon. I murdered my own son and—”
My lips press against his before I know what I’m doing, but I need him to stop this toxic self-hatred because it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. His stormy eyes widen in shock and I hold my breath, waiting for him to push me away. When he doesn’t, I yank him close and flick my tongue along the seam of his mouth. It takes him a second, but he opens up to me with a shudder, and I kiss him like I’ve been wanting to kiss him since the day he waltzed into my life.
This confession, it’s so much more than an apology. So much bigger than him, than me, than us. I don’t understand what it all means. I don’t even know if I’m the right person to put him back together, but I know the burden he carries. The weight of his son’s life on his soul.
He’s broken, but so am I. Perhaps, together we’ll be whole again.
He moans into my mouth, and when we part, I taste salt on my tongue.
“It wasn’t murder. You set him free.” I wipe the tear tracks from his cheeks. His breath stutters and he frowns at me. “Free from pain, Zane, free from suffering. You did what you had to do because you loved him.”
“S-still love him.” He sobs and grips my arms in his trembling hands. “Every fucking day.”
I wipe more tears from his cheeks. “Let’s get out of the cold and get you some food, okay?”
He holds his breath as he stares at me as if my words make no sense. He squeezes his eyes shut, and it’s another few heartbeats of silence as he clings to me. When he opens his eyes again, they are as bright as a midsummer’s day. His tentative smile quivers like a newborn calf, and I know in my heart that forgiving Zane will be a new beginning for us both.
And isn’t that worth all the second chances in the world?
Thank You!
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Coming March 2019!
C.S. Carver
I grew up reading fairy tales, so happily-ever-afters have always been my thing. As I got older, my taste expanded with my love for stories. From epic fantasy to sweet romance, space pirates and vampires, I love escaping reality through the eyes of my favourite characters.
Reading inspired me to write. After years of telling stories in my head, here I am, finally writing them all down.
When not reading and writing, I run after my two-year-old, watch as many superhero movies as I can, and make digital scribbles of my favourite people.
Come find me at www.cscarver.com!