When the Shooting Stops

"Liz, no! Wait."

"What?"

"I don't want you to go. Get out of the car, come in the house, and have a drink to settle your nerves. Hell, you can stay overnight if you need to."

She shook her head. "Bill, I can't... Please. Please, if I go in there--"

"I've missed you, too. You have no idea how much. Yeah, I dated, and some of them were fine, but they weren't you. Even the ones that were good--a couple even maybe great--weren't you.

I took the hand that had gone from tangling her hair to almost tugging it and held it in mine. "When I listed off all the good things that happened, I skipped one: You didn't sleep with him. I don't think either of us could have found a way back from that. But you didn't, and I think we can." I took a deep breath. "No, I know we can, if we're willing to really try this time. So, please. Come inside and stay the night. Not in my bed; I'm not saying that. But just so I know you'll be safe."

Her jaw dropped, then she stammered out, "O- Okay." A pause. "Do you mean it? What you said about missing me and trying to find a way back? Really?"

I nodded. "I'll get your bags. Go inside. Make yourself at home."

And she did. More than that, she made my house a home, a real home. Not at first, of course. Four hours in a car wasn't enough time to bridge all the divides or catch up on everything that had happened in our lives. But it was a start.

We took things slow. Got counseling. Did all the smart stuff that we had wanted to do when we tried to repair our relationship the first time. That turned out to be a lot easier when we weren't taking fire constantly from random assholes. In a few weeks, we found ourselves in bed together. About a week later we finally got back out of that bed for longer than the time it took to eat or shower. I lost the beard; she kept the hair.

Every once in a while, someone will recognize us, but it's a source of amusement these days rather than another stone trying to crush us. Hell, we even got spotted together on our honeymoon and posed for the infamous picture a few times, albeit with a few variations. Sometimes Traci was being showered with attention while I looked at my phone; but sometimes a much more muscular "Chuck" was chatting up a gorgeous woman in a bikini while Traci looked at her nails.

Yeah, there are still pages for us on KnowYourMeme, but the internet moves on. I don't actually know what the current latest "thing" is, though; Traci and I both killed all of our social media accounts not long before we split. I don't think either of us miss them. I sure as hell don't.

Every once in a while, I'll think back and wonder if there was some way we could have stayed together, but I don't see how. Traci and Bill just couldn't have made it. Traci understood how badly she'd fucked up, but she couldn't really comprehend how much pain she'd unintentionally caused until she felt it directly. Bill had too many things going wrong in his life even before the shooting and couldn't see a way out; the additional stress was just too much. No, Traci and Bill could never have made it.

But Liz and Will? We're different people. Liz is more grounded and empathetic. Will is mentally tougher and more self-assured. I'm not trying to tempt fate, but I meant what I said: I'm sure we can make it. The toddler bouncing on my lap and the baby growing in my loving wife's belly as I write this show how certain I am in that belief.

At the beginning, I said my life would have been a lot easier if Traci had died. That's probably true. But "easier" and "better" are two different things. I can't imagine a better life than the one I have now, and I can't imagine better versions of the two of us. "Better" hurts sometimes, but in my case? I'll take it over "easier" every time.

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Here's a first for one of my afterwords: a follow-up recommendation. I've mentioned oneagainst before and how much I enjoy his work. He's been putting out intricate, emotional, and intense stories here for two years now, and almost all are interconnected within his Wonderland shared universe. Wonderland is coming to an end soon with the just-started Only Consenting Adults. Catch up, pick and choose, and find something you like. There's a lot there TO like!

In particular, I'd like to draw your attention to The Light Between the Trees, which also revolves around the aftermath of a shooting and a survivor struggling to cope in the era of the internet. It goes in very different directions and to much darker places than this story did, earning its spot in the NonConsent/Reluctance category, so caveat emptor. And, as a celebration of the end of the Wonderland series, he's running the Midnight at the Lost and Found event this October; expect to see an entry in that from me!

Constories handled the beta reading and proofreading on this one. They offered a number of excellent suggestions, as did oneagainst. Amusingly, the ones that I took from oneagainst tended to make a couple of choice sections of the story hit harder, while the ones from Constories reined in some of my, ahem, excesses. I'm immensely grateful to both of them.