Trust

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Katmai
Katmai
368 Followers

"I am so sorry, Carl," Carol apologized touching my arm compassionately. "How is Annie doing with all this?"

"Annie's dead," I replied.

I lost all control and began sobbing, letting all the pain and anguish of the past two weeks flow through me. I couldn't stand, and I fell to my knees, tears running down my face.

"Annie's gone. My Annie's gone," I kept repeating over and over again through my sobs, desperately wanting to believe that it wasn't true.

Carol knelt down next to me and just held me. I don't how long I cried. It seems like an eternity. When I finished Carol brought me a box of tissues, and I slowly recovered my composure. She helped me to the couch and sat next to me.

"Tell me what happened, Carl," she said. "Tell me everything."

It was hard. But I did it. She held my hand as I related the story. I started at the beginning, very methodically following events as they unfolded. I showed her the video clips on my smart phone. She cried as I told her about the last conversation I had with Annie. Then I stopped.

I felt calm and peaceful for the first time in two weeks. We let the silence be a remembrance of Annie.

"You poor man; I'm so sorry, Carl." Carol said quietly. "I will miss my friend, Annie.

"And, Bill is going to pay for this. I promise you, he is going to pay."

"Thank for being with me while I told my story," I said, my eyes beginning to tear again. "I needed to tell someone the whole story."

"What are you going to do now, Carl?"

"Tomorrow I'm driving to San Jose to see Judy, Annie's mom. I need to spend a few days with her."

"You're a good man, Carl," Carol offered. "I always thought that Annie made the right choice when she married you. Her first marriage was a disaster."

I stood to leave, and Carol gave me a big hug.

"Please stay in touch with me, Carl," Carol asked. "The next time you are in the Bay Area, please come see me. I'd like to share some of my Annie stories with you and celebrate her life.

"I have my own issues to resolve here with Bill. I hope you won't let what Bill did to Annie affect our friendship, Carl. I'd really like to see you again."

"I'll be back down to see Judy regularly as long as she is alive," I responded. "I'll let you know my travel plans. I'd like to see you again, too, Carol. Thanks for everything."

She walked me to the front door and gave me another hug. I drove back to the hotel and slept soundly for ten hours.

The next day I drove to San Jose and spent three days with Judy. She was devastated, and I did what I could for her. I gave her an edited version of Annie's passing, leaving out any mention of Bill Pike and venereal disease. Judy made me promise to call her weekly. I told her that I would come down twice annually and visit. And we confirmed our planned celebration of Annie's birthday in January.

I returned to Oakland and flew back to Fairbanks, back to an empty house full of memories.

Chapter 13: One Year Later

Annie died one year ago. I took the day off work to reminisce. I sit in our living room halfway through a bottle of our favorite red wine going over the past year in my mind.

Annie's service was nice. The suddenness of her death shocked our friends. Fairbanks is a small town, and the word of her passing spread quickly. I published a one-page sanitized version of her decline and death, leaving out Bill Pike and any mention of venereal disease. People at work were supportive, and I guess it was work that carried me through the worst of it. The hardest part was coming home to an empty house each day.

I started counseling right after the service, twice a week. It helped somewhat. I'm through the grieving process, but trust issues remain. Now I go once a week. I'll probably never trust anyone fully again. My heart holds a dull ache that is always with me. Something I have to live with, I guess.

I poured another glass of wine.

I flew to the Bay Area in January and July and spent a week with Annie's mom. We had fun, but she is beginning to slow down. Annie's death hit her hard. We talk once every week by phone.

I saw Carol on both trips. It turns out that Bill was having sex with at least seven people on a regular basis, including two men. Carol kicked him out and divorced him. During my July trip, I spent several nights at Carol's house, and she did not let me sleep alone. Carol was caring and sweet. A payback of sorts, I suppose.

I haven't dated anyone. People have tried to set me up, but I politely decline. No one can replace Annie, and Annie betrayed my trust and our marriage. I'm just not going there again. I don't want to risk trusting anyone ever again. A few miles down the highway is a widow several years older than me that I visit twice a month. She serves me Saturday dinner and I stay for Sunday breakfast. No strings, just comfort and sex. Young people would call us fuck buddies. It works for me.

I poured another glass of wine, emptying the bottle.

All things considered, I'm doing fairly well, I tell myself. I have my job, nice friends, a warm house, and my memories. But that dull pain in my heart makes me sad. It's with me all day, when I go to sleep and again when I awaken. Sometimes at the oddest times I will cry to no apparent reason.

It's the pain in my heart, my constant companion.

When will it stop? When?

Katmai
Katmai
368 Followers
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AnonymousAnonymous4 days ago

Really well developed and told. I was leaning four stars, but the ending kicked it up to five.

JPB NOT BOB

AnonymousAnonymous4 days ago

The premise of the story was that Annie developed a seizure disorder some 5 years before the first portion of the story took place. The seizure disorder somehow caused her to initiate sex with Bill. Her infidelity was so unacceptable to her baseline personality that it created and "walled off" an alter ego, here a malevolent entity, that assumed responsibility for conducting the affair. The seizure disorder killed her before she could receive effective treatment.

The author can, of course, do whatever he/she chooses with fictional characters. Nonetheless, it seems important to note that this story is not at all consistent with the typical course of a seizure disorder in reality. In normal time and space, Annie's behaviors would be more likely to be the result of a curse mediated through a Voodoo doll than be caused by a seizure disorder.

AnonymousAnonymous20 days ago

Eek...should have been happy she died!

WolfOfTheWorldWolfOfTheWorldabout 2 months ago

Well told, 5🗯🗯🗯🗯🗯. The MC was more understanding than I thought possible. I'm not sure if I could be that understanding. The Irish temper blows first, white hot. Then the Scandinavian temper takes control, the cold of the depths of space. More and more the cold temper is in charge, and that terrifies me as nothing ever has.

AnonymousAnonymous2 months ago

A story well told. The author wisely had the MC get counseling after a horrible double whammy.

Shoprat had a good comment, but because the medical workup was incomplete, it seems unfair to say: Annie caused her own mental issues that led to her death.

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