If We Disappear Here

by Mindy Hayes

I will see my Becca again. We still have so much life left to live. Children to have. Memories to create. Whoever this man is, he won’t be the one to take that all away from me. I’ll do whatever it takes.

When the sobs aren’t hidden but still reserved, he’s saying to hell with it. I miss my wife. And when his sobbing is loud and uncontrollable, that’s the moment after waking, when he remembers she’s gone. And the pain is so unbearable there’s nothing left but to scream.

“Isn’t that always how it is? The thing you love most about someone is also the thing that drives you to drink.”

Please tell me what about all of that is worth living for?” Ledger’s throat bobs with a heavy swallow. “For me. If not for you, do it for me. I mean… I’m not ready to give up, but I will without you.”

“Oh, Ledger Abbott. If I had to be kidnapped and tortured with a stranger, I’m glad it’s you.” You, too, Goldie.

“Let me hold you.” I tow her against my chest, forming her frail body around me. I need this, I need her. If this is where we die, I want her in my arms for our last remaining breaths.

The ventricles of my heart pump. In order for my body to function, of course they do. But this is the only beat of my heart I’ve felt. It beats anew for the first time. For Ledger.

Maeve scrambles to her feet as the door shuts behind me, and her whole body slams into mine. My second set of lungs, my second heart. My life support.

“Don’t disappear on me now, Goldie. I need you.” “I’m here. I’m still here.”

“I grew up on Rosewood Lane. I love ’90s rap. And if we happen to get out of here alive, I’ll be able to live without you.”

“My name is Ledger Abbott. I’ve been held captive by a madman for what feels like a lifetime. And I’m not in love with you.”

“I still love you in this life, Goldie.”

Our spouses are alive. We survived. Then why do I not feel more at peace?

Elva smiles at me as she scoots in across from Ashton. Well, sort of smiles. It’s off somehow.

Why? Why did we have to fall for him? Why? my brain replies, like I should already know. Because he’s Ledger Abbott. He’s the moon at midnight, the lifeboat in a hurricane. He’s the reason we’re still breathing. He’s home.

Ledger loosens his hold, sliding his hands to the sides of my face, our eyes fastening, fusing. With his hands molded to my jawline, his lips press to my forehead for the span of two breaths. One breath, I love you. Two, and goodbye. Then he’s a breeze. Nothing but a cool gust with his sweater-clad back as my final photograph in time.

No, I did not sleep with your sister.” Sitting at the foot of our bed, he yanks them on. “But even if I had, what would it matter? It’s not like you haven’t slept with him.”