tennis instructor at the country club. How Gabriel is a workaholic who strangely spends no time with his family—the one thing he seemed to so desperately want. Okay, so maybe they aren’t lies so much as truths. But Teo and I have great fun embellishing the little details that we’re privy too. They go about their lives unaware of our presence. It’s a strange thing to be a voyeur. It’s a strange sensation to know that you are playing God. And we are—aren’t we? Watching and learning their lives piece by piece so that we can alter them, manipulate them. The joy that embraces me is overwhelming.
~ *** ~
The last entry in the journal is one he’d not read before. He’d saved it. Savored the very idea of it, for conclusion, for this moment. In just thirty minutes he’d leave to pick up his wife. He scanned the small home, making sure everything was just as he wanted it. Mentally confirming that everything was perfect for their return, he grabbed the book and flipped the journal open to the end. She’d run out of blank pages long ago and instead of letting him buy her a new journal she’d simply written on loose paper and stuffed them into the back. This last entry was special. It was a day that seemed to have been laid at their feet on a plate of gold and he found himself dizzy with excitement to read Cece’s perception of it.
~ *** ~
2014 - MARCH
The courtroom was small. It made me nervous sitting so near to the girl and Monique. It’s funny that with years passed by lifetimes can be forgotten. Monique walked right by me without thinking twice. I’m a ghost in her world. Long forgotten. Dead. The judge handed out no leniency. Sentenced the girl to six months’ probation volunteering at a center for patients with early onset dementia. She starts in two weeks. When I left the courtroom, I felt buoyant. Joyous.
Matteo and I used a good chunk of money to buy my way into Glenview. To buy the necessary doctor’s recommendations quickly. Our old private investigator still useful all these years later. It was only sheer luck that Glenview even had space available. Maybe not luck but karma. As if my need for revenge, that deep-rooted and bloomed fury, my own personal religion, was watching out for me. For Matteo. All the cruel and ruthless disappointments mean nothing now. You earn your own luck and Matteo and I have definitely earned ours.
Tomorrow Matteo moves me into Glenview. Room 208. I’m excited and nervous. This closure, two decades in the making, is so close to completion now. That Matteo and I are so close to a life outside of this is a driving force deep within me. I’m so ready.
They say the morning after a storm brings the most incredible beauty. That the sky produces the most magnificent colors. That the air is still and calm. That you could sit for hours after watching the sunrise and feel the most spectacular sense of peacefulness.
They lie.
The morning after a storm simply means another one is lying in wait.
~ *** ~
Matteo grinned at the written words. How perfectly well stated. Someday Cece would write a book about her life and what a book it would be. Matteo could almost smell the salt breeze from the ocean of home as anticipation and excitement raced through his veins. The precipice was upon him and he was willingly jumping off the dark edge toward the clear, green water below.
Six months felt like an eternity, but they had weathered it and now it was time to fire up the shiny red Porsche and pick up his wife. He could hardly contain his excitement. This was a new chapter and he was looking forward to it immensely. He knew she would be panicking right now even though he was just a few minutes behind. It was six thirty p.m.
He should be there already.
He pulled into the lot at breakneck speed, stopping once he reached the curb. A grin spread across Cece’s face at the sight of him. He exhaled heavily. She was stunning. Grace and class neatly packaged, simply waiting for him to
~ *** ~
The last entry in the journal is one he’d not read before. He’d saved it. Savored the very idea of it, for conclusion, for this moment. In just thirty minutes he’d leave to pick up his wife. He scanned the small home, making sure everything was just as he wanted it. Mentally confirming that everything was perfect for their return, he grabbed the book and flipped the journal open to the end. She’d run out of blank pages long ago and instead of letting him buy her a new journal she’d simply written on loose paper and stuffed them into the back. This last entry was special. It was a day that seemed to have been laid at their feet on a plate of gold and he found himself dizzy with excitement to read Cece’s perception of it.
~ *** ~
2014 - MARCH
The courtroom was small. It made me nervous sitting so near to the girl and Monique. It’s funny that with years passed by lifetimes can be forgotten. Monique walked right by me without thinking twice. I’m a ghost in her world. Long forgotten. Dead. The judge handed out no leniency. Sentenced the girl to six months’ probation volunteering at a center for patients with early onset dementia. She starts in two weeks. When I left the courtroom, I felt buoyant. Joyous.
Matteo and I used a good chunk of money to buy my way into Glenview. To buy the necessary doctor’s recommendations quickly. Our old private investigator still useful all these years later. It was only sheer luck that Glenview even had space available. Maybe not luck but karma. As if my need for revenge, that deep-rooted and bloomed fury, my own personal religion, was watching out for me. For Matteo. All the cruel and ruthless disappointments mean nothing now. You earn your own luck and Matteo and I have definitely earned ours.
Tomorrow Matteo moves me into Glenview. Room 208. I’m excited and nervous. This closure, two decades in the making, is so close to completion now. That Matteo and I are so close to a life outside of this is a driving force deep within me. I’m so ready.
They say the morning after a storm brings the most incredible beauty. That the sky produces the most magnificent colors. That the air is still and calm. That you could sit for hours after watching the sunrise and feel the most spectacular sense of peacefulness.
They lie.
The morning after a storm simply means another one is lying in wait.
~ *** ~
Matteo grinned at the written words. How perfectly well stated. Someday Cece would write a book about her life and what a book it would be. Matteo could almost smell the salt breeze from the ocean of home as anticipation and excitement raced through his veins. The precipice was upon him and he was willingly jumping off the dark edge toward the clear, green water below.
Six months felt like an eternity, but they had weathered it and now it was time to fire up the shiny red Porsche and pick up his wife. He could hardly contain his excitement. This was a new chapter and he was looking forward to it immensely. He knew she would be panicking right now even though he was just a few minutes behind. It was six thirty p.m.
He should be there already.
He pulled into the lot at breakneck speed, stopping once he reached the curb. A grin spread across Cece’s face at the sight of him. He exhaled heavily. She was stunning. Grace and class neatly packaged, simply waiting for him to
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