I could still smell him on my skin, still taste him on my lips as I cradled our son close to my chest and heard the lock click as I closed the door behind the two of us. It was so hard. There was a part of me that screamed to turn around and go back. To shred the note stained with my tears, slide back on my engagement ring, and curl up beside him in our bed and whisper how sorry I was for what I had nearly done. But I didn't. Instead, I kept moving, sheer blind will moving me from the front door all the way to the parking garage, and the Lexus. I tucked Malachai into his seat, and he murmured sleepily, but was quickly back asleep again. And then I slid into the driver's seat, locked the doors, and caught the sight of my hand upon the steering wheel. The hand where the ring had lain upon my finger since the first moment he'd slid it on, and asked me to be his wife. Now, it was empty, and foreign looking to me there against the black of the steering wheel's leather covering. I flexed my fingers, and then, I felt the tears fall ... in torrents.

With my son sleeping behind me in his carseat, I fell apart. I know he won't understand, that he'll be hurting, but I think, I hope he'll see that what I've done was the best thing for us all.

I have felt loss, felt grief, but never has a pain been so bone-deep as this. I hurt in a way that words can never express, and though they seem so trivial, so worthless scrawled upon paper.. they will always be true. I love him. I always will.

****** ****** ****** ****** ******

[ The letter left upon the nightstand of their bedroom, with Abri's ring carefully set atop it.]

Mi amoré,

You will wake in the dawn of a new year, and find both myself, and Malachai gone. I know you will be angry, and hurt, but even in such states, you'll know what I say here, in this letter, is the truth.

Things have changed between us, and though we have brushed past then, and danced around them for months now, there is no denying that we're not in the same place we were when we first whispered the words that scared us both to death to one another.

You are a wandering spirit, a rock star with a nomadic desire, and I know that, have always known that. For two years you've been a rock, steady in your dedication to our son ... to me. It's not just you who feels the longing to be free, Fallon, I can hear it in the band, see it in them, just as I see it in you.

My time is here, my place is here, in New York, with the Agency I've built from the ruins of those who held it before me.

I'm leaving now, while you sleep, because I know if you wake, I won't be able to get up the strength, or the courage, to leave. Things have been good, but they haven't been what they were...and I don't want us to grow to the point where the love we hold for one another turns to hatred, or resentment. I couldn't bear to have that happen, and despite our best arguments, we both know in time that everything would take its toll, and we would reach that point.

I love you, Fallon. I will always love you. Malachai is testament to what we had together, to how beautiful things were then.

You know how to reach me, and I've enclosed the address where Malachai and I will be staying.

You may never forgive me, and I have to accept that.. but never.. never doubt that my heart breaks even as I write this.

Your Chimera Always,

Abri

 

 

 

So, how does one end a night already fraught with disappointment? Why, with a smashed out back windshield, dented up front hood, and the early morning hours spent filing a police report.

I never should have left the Agency. I should have just bunked down in one of the escort rooms with my son, and let his father sweat out where we were until morning. Serve him right not coming with us, anyway if he had to worry just a little.

Of course, though, I wanted to go home, get my son tucked into his bed and take a long bubble bath to ease away the tension that I can feel knotting across my shoulders. I shouldn't be so angry, but I was, no, I still am. Damn it, his ignoring tonight hurt.

But, I'm getting off subject, really.

I was driving home from the Agency, but was detoured because the Square was completely slammed with partying bodies all decked out in costumes. So, I head along the smaller roads, and my luck, my GPS is still sitting on the workbench with the guys in transportation who were supposed to be getting it upgraded for me. So, after dodging demons, witches, zombies, and other creatures of the night, I ended up lost.

Stoplight found me trying to get my bearings with a real map that I luckily have stashed in the glove box at all times. I never even saw them coming. One minute I'm reading the map, following the dark line to get an idea of where I ended up, and the next, I hear a loud thud against the hood of the Cherokee. I was startled, my foot tightened down on the brake, and I saw the man looking at me. It was while he had my attention, his palm flush against the front windshield that another man had come up behind. The smash was sudden, and it woke Malachai. The poor baby started screaming, and when he did that, I snapped out of whatever it was I'd been in, and gunned the Cherokee and was out of there.

I don't know if I hit the guy at the front, and I honestly don't care. I just wanted to get my son home. I sped the entire way here, and once I did, I threw the Cherokee in park, and climbed into the backseat with 'Chai. Unbuckling him from his seat, I checked him over, as much as I could in the dim light of the overhead, and then hugged my son tightly to my chest.

It took me a bit before I was calm enough to get out, grab out things and head up to the house so I could call the police. One of the neighbor girls was sweet enough to take Malachai into his room while I spoke with the officers. The Cherokee was in rough shape, but I know the insurance company will pay to get it fixed up, while giving me a rental to use in the meantime.

Malachai's a trooper. After the police left, and we were all alone in the house, he tugged me to follow, and we ended up snuggling in bed. I dozed off a few times, but every car door that slammed outside woke me.

Sometimes I truly do hate living in New York.