The Violet Widow? (Shattered Heart #1)

by K E Osborn

  What the hell am I going to do?

  How am I going to get past this? I just can’t see a way.

  My boys and my house are all I have… all I know. My world will end if theirs did too. The ache in my chest is becoming unbearable. I need to know for sure. I can’t handle not knowing, but then again, can I handle knowing the truth if it’s a truth that I don’t want?

  My head is a tangled foggy mess and I don’t know what to think. I can’t honestly believe that my boys are gone because that reality is something I can’t even fathom. He pulls up the car and leads me inside. With each step I take my heart shatters a little more, just knowing they’re here in this place hurts. It’s doing my head in. I can’t wait to get to them and hold them both in my arms. To tell them how much I love them and just look into their beautiful blue eyes. Caiden’s eyes are just like his father’s – bright blue and like endless pools of sparkling beauty. I sometimes get lost in Danny’s eyes, they’re calming to me. I could do with looking into them right now. I need to calm down because I’m so on edge. I feel like one more nudge and I could fall over at any second. And if I do that, I’ll never get back up.

  The officer walks with me briskly through the halls of the morgue, his hand is splayed out across my lower back leading me through this endless maze of concrete walls and bad paint work. My breathing is short and sharp and as we approach some swinging doors, above them in bold letters is one… single… terrifying word.

  MORGUE.

  I stop at the doors and stare at the word. The policeman stands with me as I prepare myself for what I might be about to see. But I can’t think of that, I have to see the bodies and when I realise it’s not my boys then this mess will all be over and I can go home and cook nachos for Caiden. We can have the Viennetta ice cream cake and I can tuck him into bed, read him a story and then take my husband to bed and make another baby.

  That’s how this is going to go. It can’t be any other way.

  I take in a deep breath and nod at no one in particular, mainly to give myself the little boost I need to walk through these doors. I step forward and the male officer walks with me, leaving the female behind. He leads me down the dimly lit corridor. It smells odd, like disinfectant mixed with a butcher's shop. The smell is quite disconcerting and vile.

  I’m cold. I have goose bumps running all over my body and every hair on my arms is standing up straight. I don’t like it in here. It’s creeping me out and I want to get out as soon as possible. He takes me to a door that says Room Two. I swallow the lump that’s formed in my throat and the policeman looks at me.

  “Mrs. Dyson, would you like someone to come in with you?” he asks and I bite my bottom lip and shake my head.

  No, if this is my boys in here, I don’t want anyone else around me but me and my family.

  “Take all the time you need. I’ll be right here when you’re done,” he says and I nod.

  My heart is pounding. I have a cold sweat covering my boiling hot body. My stomach is lurching so much it’s burning my throat and I honestly don’t know how the bile in my throat is staying there. He opens the door for me and I step in to see a barren room covered in stainless steel. I swallow hard as two body bags are positioned on racks in front of me. One is adult sized, the other a lot smaller. I freeze instantly and stare at the black bags. I’m trembling with fear as I shake my head for no real reason other than denial. Suddenly the door behind me closes with a loud thud making me jump with fright. I look back at the door and see it shut tight. I close my eyes and turn back around. My breathing increases and I’m so dizzy I think I’m swaying on the spot. I clench my eyes even tighter in the hope that when I open them I’ll be waking up on the sofa at my house and this will all have been a terrible nightmare.

  I slowly open one eye and see the body bags still in front of me. I let out a sob as my hand rushes to my mouth. I open both eyes and shake my head while my breathing escalates even faster. I don’t know how long I stand there just staring at the body bags before I somehow find the courage to make my way to the adult size bag. I move slowly to where the zipper is located. I feel cold while I shake uncontrollably. I close my eyes and imagine Danny standing behind me, his hand is on my shoulder giving me all the warmth and support that I need right now.

  “I love you,” I hear him say.

  I half-smile and breathe in, taking in his smell all around me. His aftershave fills my senses and warmth wraps around my entire body. I feel at ease. He is here, with me, and knowing that fact instantly calms me. Maybe I am dreaming and when I open my eyes he will be wrapped around me in bed all snuggled up cozy and warm. The love I feel from him right now is undeniable and I breathe in his aftershave and smile as his lips kiss my cheek. I feel like I am bathing in light, I’m warm and I feel safe.

  “Open your eyes, baby,” he says and I nod and smile in recognition. I relish in his warmth for a moment longer and then slowly open my eyes.

  The light vanishes and is replaced with a cold, dark vision in front of me bringing me back to a harsher reality. I’m instantly cold again and his smell evades me. I gasp as the body bag comes back into my line of sight. My body slumps when I realise I wasn’t in bed with Danny dreaming after all.

  This… whatever this is, is actually happening.

  My eyes flood with tears as I stare aimlessly at the body bag.

  “Danny come back,” I murmur through a sob and I close my eyes tight trying to get him to come back to me, but all I feel is cold. A repugnant, stale smell fills my lungs while I gasp for air and open my eyes feeling lost and hopeless. My whole body is shaking violently as I slowly bring my hand up to the zip. “Danny, please don’t be in here,” I chant as I pick up the cold zip and start to slowly open the bag.

  I prepare myself for what I am about to see. I swallow hard and pull back the flap. Danny is staring up at me. His bright blue beautiful eyes are dull and empty. There’s nothing there… no life, no love, nothing. They’re cold and distant. My heart stops beating and the tears start to fall as it sinks in. His face is pale and he has a cut on his head where dried congealed blood marks the spot. I shake my head as I move my hand to touch his wound. I jump when my hand touches his forehead. He is ice cold. I shake my head rapidly from side to side.

  “Danny?” I say loudly to wake him. I can’t hold back my sobs. “Danny, baby, wake up,” I say and shake his shoulder slightly. He doesn’t move. I feel sick. I want to be sick and for some sick and twisted reason I can’t stop staring at him. I want to look away. Everything in me wants to desperately look away, but I can’t. His eyes… they’re not him, this can’t be him.

  “Danny, baby, please,” I beg. This must be some cruel joke, surely this isn’t really him. I don’t want the last image in my head of my husband, to be of this… this dull and empty, emotionless body in front of me. This is too much, I can’t handle this. I start to really cry as I caress his cheek. All the love I have for him is overwhelming me.

  I need him.

  I love him.

  I can’t do this without him!

  I burst into a blubbering mess as I lean down resting my head on his cold chest and wrapping my arms around him. He’s so damn cold. I can’t stand it. My knees feel weak as I mourn for my husband, but I stay where I am crying into his chest and holding onto him for dear life.

  I can’t breathe.

  I can’t think.

  I can’t do this!

  “Danny,” I call out as I sob loudly, so loudly it’s all I can hear. The noises I’m making are strange to me. I’m moaning as I cry like I’m a wounded animal. Snot bubbles out of my nose and runs down my face as I cling on to him so tightly I’m sure I will bruise him.

  “Baby, come back, please. I’ll be better. I’ll be a better wife, I promise. I don’t know what I did wrong, but baby, please don’t leave me,” I sob and look into his empty eyes.

  He doesn’t move and it breaks my heart, splintering it into a billion tiny shards each one cutting me deeper than the last. I f
eel like I am falling, drowning in an endless black pool of misery and nothing could ever bring me back to the surface. I stare at Danny and raw emotion hits me. I’m so angry, I’m so lost, and I’m so desperately destroyed. I look at him and scream loudly into his face. My scream echoes through the ugly stainless steel room and it takes all my energy screaming that I fall back onto his lifeless body and sob into his chest. My body heaves as the door to the room opens and the policeman walks in.

  “Mrs. Dyson, I’m sorry but have you identified them both?” he asks as he walks across to me. I don’t look at him while I sob into Danny’s cold chest.

  “Mrs. Dyson, is this your husband?” he asks and I start to sob even harder.

  “Danny, wake up,” I sob and the policeman rests his hand on my back.

  “What about your son? Have you identified him?” he asks and I look over at the smaller body bag. I swallow hard and stand up from Danny gasping for air. I shake my head and stare at the policeman. I can hardly see him through my tear soaked lashes. What I can see is someone who is looking at me with kind eyes and a slight frown. I feel sorry for him, having to deal with me… like this. His dark, black hair and gentle grey eyes look at me with such concern it makes me feel even worse than I already do if that’s even possible.

  “Let me help you,” he says and he moves his arm around my waist and helps me stagger toward the small bag. My body and my mind can’t handle much more.

  Danny is gone! I won’t cope if Caiden is too.

  “I can’t,” I whisper through a sob.

  “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Dyson. Would you like me to open the bag?” he asks and I shake my head. No, the minute he opens that bag is the minute this all becomes a very harsh reality. I wipe my nose with the back of my hand and wipe it on my jeans.

  “I can’t lose Caiden as well. I can’t,” I murmur as he exhales and tightens his grip around my waist.

  “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Dyson,” he says and then leans in pulling the zipper down.

  I close my eyes tightly as he pulls back the flap. I shake my head from side to side. I’m waiting to feel Danny with me again, to smell him, to have him comfort me, but I feel nothing but an eerie coldness as the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I inhale sharply and my eyes fail me and open on their own. I look down to see Caiden, he looks so peaceful. His eyes are closed unlike his father’s, but he is so pale. It takes a second for it to sink in, but when it does it’s like a billion knives stabbing me all over my body. I scream loudly as my hand shoots up to my mouth in shock. My knees give way while my heart pounds so hard it’s all I can feel. My stomach lurches and I can’t hold it back even if I wanted to. It constricts and I lean over and heave onto the floor through loud unladylike sobs. The burn in my throat is so harsh it’s making me gag as I lean over resting my hands on my knees and vomit leaves my stomach forcefully. The policeman rubs my back as I lose all my energy and collapse onto the floor, with my head in my hands. I scream loudly while my entire body shakes uncontrollably.

  I think of Caiden and how scared he must be. I start to hum his favourite song, ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star’ so he doesn’t feel afraid. Afraid, like I am right now as I rock back and forth on the floor with the policeman holding me to him for comfort. A comfort I am definitely not feeling.

  I don’t want to be here.

  I don’t want to be alone.

  I don’t know how to be without Danny and Caiden.

  How do I go on from here?

  I have to build a wall, if I don’t I won’t survive this. Do I even want to survive? I have to be strong. Danny would want me to get through this. He would want me to live.

  The crying stops here! No more being the woman I was.

  I am no longer a wife and a mother.

  I am a loner.

  A no-one.

  And if I am to survive in this world I need to become someone else.

  Someone tougher.

  Someone stronger.

  Someone without feeling or emotion.

  Someone who doesn’t care about anything or anyone.

  From now on, you can call me - The Violet Widow.

  It’s been five long and torturous years to the day since the woman I once was died, along with my husband and son. I’ve had to become tough, strong and void of any emotion to survive. The walls I’ve built are so high I’m sure you can see them from the space station. I’m locked up so tight that not a single tear has left my eyes since I identified their bodies. I didn’t even cry at their funerals. I’m too hard for that now. Crying is for the weak and I can’t afford to be like that. All I do is eat to live and drink to forget. And boy do I want to forget right now.

  I’m at the up-market cocktail bar of Amor, which is apparently Spanish for love or some bullshit that the bartender is spinning me. I’m not paying any attention to him because I’m too busy trying to distract myself with copious amounts of Cosmopolitans. Some may say that if you want to drink to forget you should drink hard liquor like scotch or whiskey, but I’m classy, not a bogan. Yes, Cosmos may take me a little longer to get wasted, but they still do the job just as effectively.

  Work was hard today. My principal employee decided that she wanted to change her career. That’s fine for her, but it leaves me up shit creek without a paddle. I will have to promote one of the other girls into her position to keep the clients happy. I worked hard to have my business running as smoothly as it is. It’s taken a couple of years to get it to where it is today. I have thirteen wonderful employees who would bend over backward for me. I guess they are my family now, and even though I am the owner and Boss of the business, they all treat me like I’m their mother, and I guess considering they’re mostly all younger than me it makes sense. Even though I’m nowhere near old enough to be their mother. I’m only thirty for crying out loud.

  Anyway I started my career not long after my boys died. It was imperative for me to keep our family home because it is the only thing I have left of my family, my boys. And seeing as the life insurance papers were drafted but not signed when Danny passed, I got absolutely nothing. So, to keep the house and their memory alive, I had to get a job. A real job. A full-time job. Working part-time as a checkout chick at the supermarket just wouldn’t cut it. No, that small wage would not be able to support my mortgage payments and all the bills. I had to find some money and it had to be a lot of it quickly. So, I started working as a lowly shit-kicker, but I worked my way up through the ranks and now I own my own business and people work for me. I paid off the mortgage in two and a half years and I now own my home outright. I’m so grateful for that because losing the house would be like losing them all over again and I couldn’t bare that. Even with my walls up I think they would crumble if I couldn’t have the reminder of my boys every day.

  The thing about my home is that it is just that – my home. No one ever comes to my home and no one is allowed in my home. It is my sanctuary. My shrine to my husband and my baby boy and no-one can disrupt the harmony of that. No-one!

  I swig back the dregs of my Cosmo and tap the bar for another. Today is a shit day! They say it’s supposed to get easier every year. That’s fucking bullshit! Every year on this day I drown my sorrows because honestly there’s nothing I can do to numb the pain. Even though I can’t cry, it doesn’t mean I don’t want to. I’m as tough as old boot leather every other day of the year, but today, well today I’m allowed to fall apart a little.

  The bartender brings me another Cosmo and I pay him with a fifty. He brings my change back and I leave it on the bar. I’ll just have to get it out for my next few drinks again anyway. I start to sip on my cocktail as Danny’s face flashes through my mind. I wince, sigh and close my eyes tight to try to rid myself of the image. The music in here is nice, soothing, gentle, soft music, not too loud, and nothing like the stupid music they play in bars these days. That’s why I like it here. It’s a place to come and unwind from the stressors of life. And people tend to leave you alone as they’re all too busy drowning in
their own sorrows. I lean my head up against the bar on my forearms and just breathe. It’s getting late and I should probably head home, but I’ll have one more drink before I catch a cab.

  “Looks like you’ve had a rough day,” a man says making me look up.

  He is ruggedly handsome, wearing dark jeans, a black shirt, and a leather jacket. He looks a lot like a bad boy and maybe that’s what I need right now. I cock my head to the side and raise an eyebrow as I look at him. His face is half in the shadows so I can’t see his eyes.

  “More like a rough five years,” I reply and he nods his head and half-laughs.

  “Well, in that case, can I buy you another drink?” he asks leaning in a little closer to me. I can smell his aftershave, and it instantly makes me want him closer. It’s strange, I work with men all day and smell their aftershave, but never has it had this effect on me. I look up at him and he leans in closer out of the shadows and I look into his eyes. Mine open wide as I gaze at the beauty of them. I shake my head slightly while I stare into his gorgeous mesmerizing eyes focusing on the differing colours.

  “See something you like?” he asks cockily with a smirk.

  I huff, cross my legs and fold my arms over my chest.

  “Someone has tickets on himself. No, I was looking at your eyes. I’ve never seen anything like them before, it’s fascinating. Are they contact lenses?” I ask as he pulls up a stool beside me and chuckles.

  “The ladies always love my eyes. No, it’s not contacts, just something I’ve had since birth, it’s rare but not impossible. One green eye and one blue isn’t really that weird now is it?” he asks with a smile that lights up the dimly lit room.

  I shift in my seat. He really is ridiculously good looking. It’s unnerving.

  “Dunno, to me it kind of makes you a bit of a freak,” I reply and he smiles and nods.

  “Yeah, I guess it does, but we all have a little freak in us somewhere?” he states and I raise my eyebrows at him.

  “Ain’t that the truth,” I declare and take a sip of my Cosmo.