Silent Endings

Silence is the most devastating companion of anguish. It lengthens time, strengthens perception and cuts escape off at the pass. It only leaves you one option, to push through and try and make some noise.

“Do you love him?” Daxton whispered with a throat drier than the desert.

More silence, then tears. Lillia was manic, her eyes twitching every which way but into his. Her nails pressed hard into the palms of her hands. She starts to nod, then stops herself. More tears. More pain. More silence.

Daxton stares on almost blankly. Not really looking at the normally pretty woman before him, but at the beautiful woman he saw her as when they were young. Pale skinned, with such a beautiful spray of freckles and wispy blonde hair.

He tries to speak once more, but the dryness in his mouth provided only the sound of a breath. Ragged and curt. Dry and painful. He focused his gaze and starred into her eyes once more. “Do you love… me?”

Red eyes swelled with pain on both sides of the conversation. The questions were as sand papered as any answers could be, but they rang in the air grasping at lillia’s lips. Finally, with a sob she answered. ““I do love him. And I don’t know if I love you.”

With her truth finally released Lillia slunk down against the white hallway wall. Pressing her hands against her face to stifle the things she was feeling. Daxton stood there, awkward. Wanting to reach out and comfort her, even as the pain sawed at the core of his being. Worried about her even as the venom of betrayal made its way slowly through his veins.

He tried to focus his brain, but like his bleary eyes it was so hard. They had been together for 18 years, and in a single moment all of that time had condensed and shattered in its perception. He was tired. More tired than he would have ever thought possible. And so confused.

Three hours earlier they had been hunting each other with water pistols. He had found two at the grocery store and couldn’t pass up the silly opportunity. Around the back he went, sneaking up to her as she watered the backyard plants of their new home. Well, it was dawning on two years, but the house was still a badge of pride for both of them. They couldn’t help but continue to revel in it.

As he approached he could smell the newly watered lavender release it’s calming scents. Her yellow and white sundress rippled in the breeze, as he gently placed the gun down behind her feet. Then, he yelled “draw”, as he sprayed her down.

She yelped in surprise, but turned to smile at him even as she did it, somehow knowing who to expect. Her smile could lighten the darkest room and her eyes lit up like sparkling pools of the lightest azure.

He stood there, triumphant in his own attack. Posing like some rogue from a 1960’s spy show. There was a beat, and then he dashed away as she scrambled to grab the gun at his feet. The next half hour they circled the house after one another, with no regard to time. They were laughing, stumbling and panting from exertion. Everything seemed right as it should. The world in its proper place.

It wasn’t until later that evening that horror struck. Well, set in. Revealed the true nature of the world. He had gotten out of the shower first and had laid down in the bed to look over his social media. He saw her phone light up with a strange app, but didn’t really clock it at first. Why would he?

She stepped from the shower and dressed herself in her night clothes before reaching for her phone. The screen lit up and then, quickly, subtlety she swiped it off. She stood and nonchalantly turned, but on pure curiosity and instinct he reach out and said ““what was that?”

Suddenly she exploded, slapping his hand away and jerking her phone back. ““I am tired of the way you’re paranoid about everything. You have no right to look at anything I’m doing unless I show you!”

Daxton stood, more confused than anything else and walked after her. ““What are you talking about? What was that app?”

At this she stomped down the hallway, rushing for their guest room. Daxton chased after her, panic building in his confusion and he sought answers. As he cornered her he saw her swipe up and delete an entire chat log. ““Leave me alone, why are you chasing me?!”

Something in him broke. He spoke with calm authority, taking care to keep any of his emotions from leaking through. “Lillia, that’s enough. It’s time to talk. What is going on?”

Then, for the first time he could ever recall her eyes lost their luster. He watched as a numbness broke out over her that made her seem like an entirely different person. She looked at him then. Sending icy spikes of pain through his very soul.

““I’ve been cheating on you.”

His mouth went dry. His heart stilled and his mind stopped racing. It was as if the whole world stopped just to take a breath. ““How long?” He heard himself croak.

““A few months. Maybe more, I don’t know.”

He took another painful breath through that sandy mouth. Stretching it in search of any drop of moistness as he forced himself to speak. ““Who.”

This new ghost version of his lover looked at him with all the chillness of the dead. Speaking with no hint of emotion. ““You know who.”

It sent waves of pain through him. So strong they would have knocked him down if his legs weren’t as rigid as steel beams. Paralyzed in time and fear. He did know. He had warned her that this man was pining for her, but he never thought… never in his wildest dreams would he think… “Mary’s Brother.”

Lillia nodded. Some trace emotion of guilt appearing in those vacant eyes. ““Yes, Michael.”

And hear is where our story loops. Where silence stretches time and holds all captive. No hope for escape, only the barest means to press through, to see its conclusions through red and bleary eyes. “Do you love him?” Daxton whispered with a throat drier than the desert. “Do you love… me?”

Lillia’s damn finally breaks against the wall and her tears fall like silent rain. ““I don’t know. I think so.”

Daxton moves and slinks down opposite her. He holds her gaze with his own, close to touching her, but forbidding himself from making the connection. ““Do you mean him or me?”

She looks up at him. Really seeing him. Taking in his hurt and confusion. She tilts her head back in a greater sob. ““I don’t think I love you anymore. I think I love him. I’ve… we talk every day-

““What else have you done?” Came the unbidden question. ““What have you done with him?”

Lillia turns toward the wall and speaks to the guest room. Too ashamed to look him in the eye as she explains. ““I don’t know. We say I love you to each other. We talk about normal things. I… have taken some pictures and some other-”

““Like what?” Daxton snapped. Losing his cool, desperately trying to get a grasp, any handle on the situation.

With a breath she summoned her courage and faced him once more. He was hardening. His normally soft expression so rock like it scared her. She took another short breath and speak directly. ““My breast. My body. Video of me… of my desire for him.”

His faked strength was shattering. He was shaking. Breathing heavy and losing his grip. ““You masterbated? Did you show him your butthole? Did you see him cum, finger your wet pussy-”

““Stop!” She wailed In a feeble attempt to continue hiding from the truth. ““It’s not like that, I just”

This was it. His cool was gone, replaced by a desperate need. He needed to know and to say things out loud. To sate his fear and anxiety with knowledge and the questions and answers flowed from him like wine. ““Then what was it like?! I’m right aren't I? You’re fucking your best friends brother. Cheating on your husband and hurting his family? He has a wife and child for gods sakes. I know your best friend is dead, but the best way for you to grieve is to fuck her brother? To send pictures of your dripping pussy and what else? Fingering your asshole? Talk to me! Tell me what you’ve done!”

““I haven’t fucked him yet!” She yelled as she flailed her limbs ““yes he asked for some gross stuff but I didn’t do it to see or be turned on. I did it because I love him. I know, it’s fucked up but she wanted me to get to know him and I needed him. Because he makes me feel heard and because he isn’t obsessed with looking at porn like you. Collecting pictures of girls we both know and pretending it’s totally normal and ok! We are not ok, and… I trusted him with my body. In ways I have never trusted you. Not… not in a long time.”

Daxton recoiled at the ferocity with which she started to speak. It shook him. Woke him up. ““I hurt you” he mouthed audibly, unconsciously, but truthfully.

She nodded and he fell silent. The fantasy of their love severed for the rest of all time. He wanted to cry. Wanted to shake and scream and run and hurt and deny and and and. He was frozen in pain. For himself. For her. For him. He asked the obvious oblivious to his need. ““What do we do now?”

She answered with barely a hesitation. It was true, and hard and right. The words that have echoed in the minds of many in their darkest hour. The perfect answer. “I don’t know.”

With that, the silence came back. Taking away everything good and putting the pain in stasis. There was nothing to be done. It was over. Done with and all that was left was for him was to draw his arms around himself, and cry. And hurt. And die. Knowing that she hadn’t done anything, he hadn’t done first.