His face is all I can see. It keeps me awake at night. His beautiful eyes. His beautiful smile. The way his lips curve into a delightful elegance I can never place or fully describe.
He is everything to me, and I know that I am to him. I can feel it when we touch, and when my lips meet his. Such a captivating embrace, a delicacy undefined by logic… He is mine, and I am his. Forever.
We will always be together. You can call me crazy, and roll your eyes all you want. I know the statistics. I truly do. But let me tell you about the first day we met. Let me tell you about the day my world, our world, changed.
I’m sure he would love to tell you about it too, but he is indisposed. Nasty flu going around. My poor love. I have been taking care of him, and he is ever grateful. But- I digress. Back to our fairy tale beginning.
I was at the park, reading. I was deep into the book, captivated by the story… Off in my own little world… When I heard soft singing. It was masculine and very beautiful. He was singing that song that goes : Wherever you will go… I’ll follow you down… Follow you down but not that far. I know, beautiful. His singing pulled me from my world, and deep into his. I looked up, and there he was.
He was standing by the pond, casually tossing rocks. He was so tall, handsome. I didn’t even need to see his face to see that he was perfect. So beautiful. I may have gasped, or made some small noise. I really don’t know. But he turned and looked at me. His eyes hit me like a shock, a jolt to my soul. He smiled, and I fell for him right there. Right there.
He approached me then. The spark I felt burst into full flame as he sat beside me and began to talk. That was years ago, but I still remember every single sentence. I remember every glance, every breath he took beside me. Do you understand? Could you possibly begin to know the connection we share?
We were married a year later. He cried when I walked down the aisle. He took me later that night.. In all the ways a woman wants to be taken. – No. He isn’t better yet. Aren’t you listening? He has the flu. I am taking care of him. He will shake this off. He always does.
No, no, no. Listen to me. He is fine. I love him and he loves me. I kissed him good night just a few moments ago! I promise you he will make it through this.
What are you doing? You can’t go in there Emily. You’ll catch what he has! G******n it Emily stop!
I adjusted my jacket, clearing my throat nervously. I looked into the interview room where my sister Izzie now sat. The lump in my throat just wouldn’t go away. The door opened, and the somber detective walked in. “So you say you hadn’t seen your sister’s husband in weeks, and when you went to check on them you then found Mr. Thomas deceased. Did she give you any indication of how he had been killed? Any indication that their marriage was unstable?” I shook my head, tears rolling down my cheeks. Detective Connolly shifted, staring down at the floor.
“What I have to tell you will be hard to hear, and I am not supposed to do this… But I think you should know. We found print outs of messages between the deceased and other women. We think that your sister confronted him, and it turned violent. He had been beaten severely. His teeth were practically powdered. He appears to have been dead for at least a week or more. We are taking her in for a psych evaluation, but it doesn’t look good. She appears to have had some kind of psychotic break. It was simply too much for her. I am sorry.”
I choked down a sob, biting my lip so hard I could feel the blood begin to flow. It was over for Izzie… Everything. Detective Connolly walked out, and she began to sing in the interview room…
I looked at her, and choked back another sob.
The funny thing is that the detectives, Izzie, and my own family did not see the truth. They didn’t check well enough. They didn’t bother to ask why my prints were on the bat used to bludgeon him to death. They didn’t bother to ask who brought the print outs, nor who was restocking the fridge in the weeks my sister had been unable to leave their house. She would go down for it, but justice was served. She was too weak to do it.. Too weak to fight back.
I walked out of the station that night singing softly.
“Wherever you will go.. I’ll follow you down.”
