The dead leaves crunch beneath my boots as they disintegrate into the frost covered dirt in rhythm with the plumes of fog rising from my panting, weary breath. The winter air is icy-cold and the tips of my fingers sting even though they’re so deeply buried in my pockets. This frigid Minnesota climate is a far cry from what I’m used to, way out here in the middle of nowhere. I long for the sweet warmth of home, back when we were still safe. Before I fucked everything up. When things were simple. I love my wife, with all my heart, but even she must have understood on some level that I just needed to blow off steam every once in a while. I never brought any of it home to her, not even once. She’s my rock. I thought that as long as we were still together that life could go on like it was, but on a winter’s day like this? I can’t help but wish I’d just up and ran, left her here in our new world with the neighbors and the kids and the fucking bookclub… without me. I could have left, without a word. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. She had to hear it from me first, not some asshole cop or a vulturous reporter or on the news. No… She deserved better than that.
Our children were at school when I told her about those girls they found buried in the hills… how they got there… about why we really had to move across the country in such a hurry. She didn’t believe me at first, she couldn’t, but when she saw in my eyes that I was telling the truth, that it wasn’t some cruel joke… she just wouldn’t stop crying. I couldn’t bring myself to comfort her, she didn’t want me to, anyway. Not anymore… Not ever again.
So, I left. I left her there, to grieve for me, just the same as if I’d been killed. I walked for miles in a daze, all the way into town, where I found myself staring up at a church steeple. I sat alone, hidden away on the end of the shiny wooden pew closest to Christ nailed to his crimson-streaked cross. My gaze met his, and I knew then that I could never be forgiven. I didn’t expect anything more.
Wandering back into the street, now growing dark and mostly deserted, I started walking again to nowhere in particular… out into the wilderness. The dusk light shone through the treetops in slivers of golden orange landing on the pale white frost of the forest floor. A large rock amidst a clearing serves as a comforting place to rest. I shiver, and long… Long for L.A. The beach, the sun… The girls.
The wind’s waning howl is drowned out by police sirens wailing, growing louder as they get closer. My only regret was bringing her into this. As sweet and innocent as a lamb, now forever ruined by my sickening legacy. I hope she believed me when I told her how sorry I was… I really meant it.