“He pressed the trigger, but I wasn’t strong enough to stop him. I wasn’t strong enough to protect the ones I loved the most. And it’s because of me she is lying in the ground at a Providence cemetery. It’s because of me, Evelyn lives with a permanent disability.”
His eyes glassed over, and he looked away. He’d been living with this regret and remorse for nearly twenty years, and he needed to see he wasn't to blame in this tragedy.
“It’s because of you she’s free from him. They both are.”
He jerked violently.
“What is it? Wait, how did he die, Barrett?”
“I ran toward Mom's lifeless body, blood pooling around her as she took her final breath. That’s when I looked up, and he had the gun, pointing it from me then to Evelyn. That’s when I charged at him. I had nothing to live for. I wanted him to kill me. He took the very person who mattered the most to me, and I wanted him to rid me of my pain. But instead, he turned the gun on himself, shooting himself in front of us both.”
Tears fell steadily, and my body shivered. I leaped over to him and wrapped my hands around him, pulling him down to me. “Oh, Barrett.”
“I don’t deserve you, Lourde.”
“Shh,” I said, holding back sobs.
“I’m a mon—”
“You are a hero. You’re not a monster. At sixteen, you had the courage to confront your father and protect your family. How could you ever think I would think of you like that?”
“I don’t know.” He hung his head.
“I’m so sorry you had to go through this and carry the guilt with you every day. But you need to know it’s not your fault… none of it is. You were only trying to save your mother, but things turned out the way they did. You couldn’t predict it, nor could you fight a grown man.”
“But I wish things were different. I wish she was here. I wish she could meet you, Lourde.”
“I wish that too, Barrett, but the last thing your mother would have wanted for you is to live a life carrying this guilt.”
He squeezed me tighter then took his mouth to mine in a soft, tender kiss.
After a beat, we parted, and I took him in. Strain crossed his face but also relief.
“Come with me,” I said and held his hand as we strolled toward the bedroom.
Fully clothed, we folded into bed, and after only a few minutes, his breathing slowed, his eyes closed as he fell asleep on my chest, exhausted. I held him, replaying everything he’d told me, and another tear fell from the corner of my eye.
He wasn’t a monster. He could never ever be a monster. But he was the one who had to believe that, not me.