Chapter 63 CHAPTER 63: A Familiar Nightmare
William
More than half a year has trickled past since Adam last stepped through our door, his departure leaving a palpable void that seemed to echo through the hallways of our once-shared home. Each day that followed felt suspended in a haze, the kind that wraps around you, thick and unyielding. Hazel and I, we became like two actors playing out the final scenes of a play no longer running, with our young son Ethan as the unwitting audience.
The contract that once bound her was dissolved; she was free, yet she lingered out because of some residual sense of obligation or perhaps pity. We were no longer intimate, and I felt empty with each passing day.
Just days after Adam’s departure, we were having dinner when Hazel looked up at me and dropped the bomb. I recalled the resolve in her eyes.
"I got accepted into New York University for my masters," she declared, her voice steady, her gaze unwavering.
The words fell like lead in the air between us. The half-chewed rice in my mouth turned to dust. "I didn’t know you applied," I managed to mutter, confusion lacing my tone.
"I did...before Ethan was even born."
"And what’s the plan? Why New York?" I probed, grappling for some logic in the sudden revelation.
"I need a fresh start," she said simply, a statement so filled with unspoken yearnings that it widened the growing chasm between us.
"What about us? About Ethan?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice.
"I have plans, William. You know this isn't the life I envisioned for myself..." Her voice trailed off, laden with implications she hesitated to voice.
I interrupted, pain sharp in my voice, "So, your plans don’t include me."
"It’s not about including you, William," she countered quietly.
"Do you even love me?" The question hung fragile in the air, my vulnerability laid bare.
"It doesn’t matter, William. I have aspirations for my life," she replied, her words slicing through any remnants of hope I clung to.
"That doesn’t include me," I stated, the realization cold and final.
"William, I need to sort out my life," she insisted, her voice resolute, though her hands betrayed a slight tremor. "I think it’s best if we stay away from each other for a while to sort out our feelings."
The sound of my fork clattering onto the plate echoed in the room as my appetite vanished. I left the table, feeling the sharp sting of reality.
In the following days, Hazel repeatedly broached the subject of New York, a topic that became a battleground where I initially resisted, balked, and argued vehemently against it.
Then one day Hazel approached me and finally voiced out that she needed a divorce, then I knew I had lost her.
"I need to sort out my life," she said, her voice a quiet resolve that didn't tremble, even as it fractured something deep inside me. I had believed, foolishly, perhaps, that love had rooted deeply between us. The contract that once tied Hazel to this life, to our family, had long since lost its power with her debt repaid, and I was left grasping at the remnants of a connection crumbling between my fingers.
As the days drew closer to her departure, our home became a mausoleum of memories, each room haunted by the echoes of laughter and love that once lived there. Boxes packed with precision lined the halls, a testament to Hazel’s readiness to leave behind a life that had become too small for her aspirations.
And then, on a day painted in the stark colors of an impending farewell, Hazel swept through our house one last time. She paused at the threshold, Ethan’s hand in hers, and offered me a look that seemed to carry both an apology and a plea for understanding. Then she stepped across, the door clicking shut behind her with a soft, yet final click.
Hazel
I was inside my room preparing to head out to class when my nanny, Sylvia, knocked on my door.
“Sylvia? I called out.
“Yes ma’am, Miss Funke and someone from school is here to see you. She said you are expecting her”
I knew Funke was supposed to pick me up, and I wondered who she was coming with. She had been there for me when I first moved to New York, housing me, feeding me and showing me the ropes, and when I got my own place, she had chosen to be my designated driver until Ethan was old enough to attend crèche.
New York was a fresh start, a sprawling canvas on which to redraw my life. I had rented a modest apartment, and with the help of my Funke, who came around often, and a live-in nanny, I tried to give Ethan a semblance of normalcy amidst the upheaval.
“Okay, I’ll be right out” I said, stocking my bag with what I would need for class.
As I got to the living room, a jolt of electricity shot through me as my eyes fell on Emily, William’s ex-girlfriend. She was in my living room with a smile that chilled me to my bones, her appearance as chilling as her calm demeanor, holding my son. Ethan, oblivious to the danger, was giggling, reaching up to grab at a lock of her blonde hair. The cup of coffee in my hand dropped on the floor, causing everyone to stare at me in shock.
“Are you okay Haze” Funke asked, her brows etched with concern, while Sylvia dashed to the kitchen to get a mop.
"Emily, what are you doing here?" I demanded, my voice stronger than I felt.
Emily stood with Ethan in her arms. My blood ran cold. What was she doing here? This unhinged woman was now in my home, invading my fragile peace.
"Emily," I hissed, my voice laced with a dangerous calm. Emily's eyes widened in what looked like genuine surprise to onlookers, then morphed into a chilling glint.
"Hazel," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "How lovely to see you. Looking well, I must say." She replied.
Funke scowled “You two know each other”? She asked, looking between us.
I turned to her. “Funke, what is Emily doing in my house?” I asked, anger evident in my voice.
“Emily? This is not Emily, this is Anna, my college friend” she replied, furrowing her brows and looking between us.
My eyes still trained on Emily. “This is Emily Funke, William’s ex-girlfriend” I said.
“What? She turned to Emily.
“Anna, what is going on here”? She turned to Emily, who ignored her question and turned her eyes, which had an unsettling intensity towards me. A manic grin stretched across her features.
“Hazel”, she rasped, her voice hoarse, “You look different. Older.”
A shiver ran down my spine. “Emily? What are you doing here?” I asked again.
I asked, my voice dangerously low. But she laughed hysterically “I knew we would meet one day” she said.
I advanced towards her and stretched out my hand, “Hand the baby over to me Emily”. I commanded in a low tone.
She gave a wry smile while Ethan cooed in her arms. “What if I said no, what would you do?” she asked, looking down at Ethan and adjusting him in her arms.
Fear, cold and sharp, clawed at my throat. “Just give me the baby and leave before I call the police.” I said.
A guttural laugh erupted from Emily's throat. “The police? Don't be silly, Hazel. I am sure this baby isn’t William’s. If not, what are you doing here in New York acting all single? I told him you were a whore, but he was too blind to see. He decided to leave me for a whore” she laughed again hysterically.
“Enough!” I roared, my voice shaking with anger and fear. “Get out, Emily! Now!” I screamed, moving closer, my every instinct screaming to take Ethan out of her arms.
“Why the rush?” Emily's tone shifted, a sharp edge slicing through her feigned sweetness. Her next move was fluid and terrifying; she pulled a small handgun from her purse, pointing it vaguely between us. "I think we should talk, don't you?"
I froze, fear anchoring me to the spot. “Emily, please. Let's talk, but put the gun down and hand Ethan over to me.” but she didn't bulge, she just kept looking at me with wide unsettling eyes.
The room felt like it was spinning, the walls closing in. Ethan, sensing the shift in the air, began to whimper. Emily’s eyes flicked towards him, then back at me, her gaze calculating.
“Hazel, you took everything from me. My chance with William, my future,” she hissed, the gun now steadier in her hand.
“I didn't take anything from you, Emily. Please, this isn’t the way to solve anything,” I pleaded, taking a tentative step forward.
“Stay back!” she snapped. “I’ve thought about this moment for a long time, Hazel. You won’t talk your way out of this one.” she said, holding Ethan close.
My mind raced, despair mingling with desperation. In the corner of my eyes, I saw Funke trying to make a call discreetly while Sophia stood close to the doorway visibly shaken.
I needed to keep her talking, to buy time for Funke to call for help. Clearly, she was not in her right mind and in her state, she could do anything.
“What do you want, Emily? What can I do to make you leave us alone?”.
Her smile was cold, devoid of any real humor. “What do I want? I want to see you lose something, Hazel. Just like I lost.” Then she took a step towards me, then another, her smile widening in a way that sent shivers down my spine. Suddenly, Sophia screamed, which made Emily jerk towards the movement, giving me space to grab Ethan from her. I rushed inside the room and dropped him, locking the door behind me. In my haste, I pushed her down and the next thing I heard was a gunshot, a loud crack echoing through the apartment, followed by the sound of shattering glass, and a piercing scream from Sophia while the gun fell with a clatter on the floor. Emily’s eyes widened in shock while Funke rushed across the room and kicked it away from her. My breath hitched.
Outside, the faint sound of sirens began to rise, a hopeful sound that seemed impossibly distant. Funke ran to Sophia, who was bleeding on the floor. I gasped and whimpered as I saw so much blood gushing out of her leg. Then Emily stood and advanced towards me again. With a surge of adrenaline, I lunged forward and pinned her down to the floor as she fought to free herself. Just then, the door swung open and police officers surrounded us.