Page 2
Story: Silent Echo
The blood began pounding in her ears, and she couldn’t get a deep breath.
“Is Sebastion okay?”
“There’s no easy way to say this. The bus he was on collided with a truck and went over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. I’m afraid there were no survivors.”
PART ONE
CHARLOTTE
CHAPTER ONE
10 Months Later
Charlotte shielded her eyes from the harsh sunlight with her pillow. “Eli, what the hell?” She was still half asleep but thoroughly irritated.
“It’s almost noon, Charlotte. We need to talk. I can’t live like this anymore.”
“It’s Saturday. What’s the big deal?” she said.
“I’m dropping Harper off at the mall with her friends. I’ll be back in half an hour. Please make sure that you’re up.” He slammed the bedroom door as he left.
She’d been in bed for almost twelve hours, yet she was still exhausted. She was always exhausted. Pushing herself to a sitting position, she forced herself to get up, shuffled to the bathroom, and turned the shower on. The last thing she wanted was to have another argument with Eli. She already knew she was being a shit mother to Harper and an even worse wife to him. But he wasn’t the one who sent their four-year-old son to his death because of a fucking meeting. Of course, she wouldn’t have had to if Eli’s mistake hadn’t forced her to return to work full-time. The only person she hated more than herself was him. She grabbed the prescription bottle from the counter and downed a pill, cupping her hand under the bathroom faucet to wash it down. Moving toward the shower, she put her hand in to test the water, then stepped inside and closed her eyes as the hot water beat down upon her.
When she finished, she threw her wet hair into a clip and put on sweats and a T-shirt. Most of her clothes hung on her these days. She was slim to begin with, and the extra twenty pounds she’d lost in the past year gave her a gaunt, haunted look. But what difference did it make? She rarely left the house anymore. She sighed when she heard the sound of Eli’s car pulling into the garage. She opened the bedroom door and walked downstairs to the kitchen. Time to face the music.
“Glad you’re up. Can I make you a coffee or tea?” he asked.
Charlotte nodded. “Coffee, thanks.”
She observed him as he put the pod into the coffee maker, grabbed her mug, and added some creamer. These days she felt more like a spectator than a participant in her life, as if she were floating outside of herself. He put the mug down in front of her then took a seat and tented his hands. Clearing his throat a few times, he finally spoke.
“This is really hard for me to say, Char, but if you don’t make some changes, I don’t think I can keep going.”
Heat rushed to her face, and her mouth fell open. “What are you saying?”
“Something’s gotta give. It’s been almost a year—”
She scoffed. “So what? I’m supposed to magically get over the fact that my four-year-old son died because the calendar says so? What is wrong with you?”
He stood up, pacing. “We’re all grieving. I’ll never get over losing Sebastion. But we have another child. I caught Harper drinking yesterday. Our thirteen-year-old, drunk! But why not?” His face was red now. “She has no mother to speak of. I can’t do everything around here and be there for her too. You need to get into therapy, a grief group, or something. But either you rejoin the land of the living, or we’ll need to take some time apart. And Harper will stay with me.”
A part of her knew he was right. She hadn’t been a mother to Harper since that horrible day. It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried. But every time she felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, she could go on with her life, that voice inside reminded her that if she’d let Sebastion stay home that day, he’d still be alive. She had put her job before her son, and it cost her everything. How was she ever supposed to laugh again, to feel good, to enjoy life when she had been responsible for her son’s death? For Harper’s sake, she was glad that Eli had found the strength to function, but a part of her couldn’t understand how he could so quickly resume his life. Whenever she heard him laughing or saw him doing something he enjoyed, it infuriated her. The urge to shake him and ask him how he could be so cold, so cavalier, burned inside her. But instead, she had disappeared inside of herself. She took a sip of her coffee and leveled a look at him.
“Fine. I’ll start seeing Dr. Morrison again. But I want you to know that I will never forgive you for threatening me this way.” She got up from the table and walked past him without another word.
CHAPTER TWO
After two months of seeing Dr. Morrison, Charlotte grudgingly admitted that Eli had been right, even though she still resented his heavy-handedness. Her new meds were helping considerably. She was no longer comatose, moving through her day zombielike, and was starting to accomplish things. If she was honest with herself, she had to concede that accepting help was the only thing that had made her start trying again. She’d resumed taking Harper to school each day and forced herself to focus on her daughter when they were together. While she would never be the Charlotte she used to be, she was doing her best to be the mother that Harper deserved.
“Do you think you’ll go back to work?” Harper asked as Charlotte drove.
She suddenly saw herself in her office, getting the terrible news. There was no way she could go back there. She shook her head. “No, that chapter of my life is over.”
“Well, like, aren’t you bored being home all day? You’ve got to do something, right? Madison says it’s not good to have no purpose in life.”
She bit back a sarcastic retort. Eli’s assistant, Madison, had stepped in a lot over the past year, picking up Harper when Eli was tied up and Charlotte too depressed to leave the house. But she didn’t like the idea of the woman talking about her, especially with her daughter.
“When did she say that?” she asked, keeping her voice even.
“Is Sebastion okay?”
“There’s no easy way to say this. The bus he was on collided with a truck and went over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. I’m afraid there were no survivors.”
PART ONE
CHARLOTTE
CHAPTER ONE
10 Months Later
Charlotte shielded her eyes from the harsh sunlight with her pillow. “Eli, what the hell?” She was still half asleep but thoroughly irritated.
“It’s almost noon, Charlotte. We need to talk. I can’t live like this anymore.”
“It’s Saturday. What’s the big deal?” she said.
“I’m dropping Harper off at the mall with her friends. I’ll be back in half an hour. Please make sure that you’re up.” He slammed the bedroom door as he left.
She’d been in bed for almost twelve hours, yet she was still exhausted. She was always exhausted. Pushing herself to a sitting position, she forced herself to get up, shuffled to the bathroom, and turned the shower on. The last thing she wanted was to have another argument with Eli. She already knew she was being a shit mother to Harper and an even worse wife to him. But he wasn’t the one who sent their four-year-old son to his death because of a fucking meeting. Of course, she wouldn’t have had to if Eli’s mistake hadn’t forced her to return to work full-time. The only person she hated more than herself was him. She grabbed the prescription bottle from the counter and downed a pill, cupping her hand under the bathroom faucet to wash it down. Moving toward the shower, she put her hand in to test the water, then stepped inside and closed her eyes as the hot water beat down upon her.
When she finished, she threw her wet hair into a clip and put on sweats and a T-shirt. Most of her clothes hung on her these days. She was slim to begin with, and the extra twenty pounds she’d lost in the past year gave her a gaunt, haunted look. But what difference did it make? She rarely left the house anymore. She sighed when she heard the sound of Eli’s car pulling into the garage. She opened the bedroom door and walked downstairs to the kitchen. Time to face the music.
“Glad you’re up. Can I make you a coffee or tea?” he asked.
Charlotte nodded. “Coffee, thanks.”
She observed him as he put the pod into the coffee maker, grabbed her mug, and added some creamer. These days she felt more like a spectator than a participant in her life, as if she were floating outside of herself. He put the mug down in front of her then took a seat and tented his hands. Clearing his throat a few times, he finally spoke.
“This is really hard for me to say, Char, but if you don’t make some changes, I don’t think I can keep going.”
Heat rushed to her face, and her mouth fell open. “What are you saying?”
“Something’s gotta give. It’s been almost a year—”
She scoffed. “So what? I’m supposed to magically get over the fact that my four-year-old son died because the calendar says so? What is wrong with you?”
He stood up, pacing. “We’re all grieving. I’ll never get over losing Sebastion. But we have another child. I caught Harper drinking yesterday. Our thirteen-year-old, drunk! But why not?” His face was red now. “She has no mother to speak of. I can’t do everything around here and be there for her too. You need to get into therapy, a grief group, or something. But either you rejoin the land of the living, or we’ll need to take some time apart. And Harper will stay with me.”
A part of her knew he was right. She hadn’t been a mother to Harper since that horrible day. It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried. But every time she felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, she could go on with her life, that voice inside reminded her that if she’d let Sebastion stay home that day, he’d still be alive. She had put her job before her son, and it cost her everything. How was she ever supposed to laugh again, to feel good, to enjoy life when she had been responsible for her son’s death? For Harper’s sake, she was glad that Eli had found the strength to function, but a part of her couldn’t understand how he could so quickly resume his life. Whenever she heard him laughing or saw him doing something he enjoyed, it infuriated her. The urge to shake him and ask him how he could be so cold, so cavalier, burned inside her. But instead, she had disappeared inside of herself. She took a sip of her coffee and leveled a look at him.
“Fine. I’ll start seeing Dr. Morrison again. But I want you to know that I will never forgive you for threatening me this way.” She got up from the table and walked past him without another word.
CHAPTER TWO
After two months of seeing Dr. Morrison, Charlotte grudgingly admitted that Eli had been right, even though she still resented his heavy-handedness. Her new meds were helping considerably. She was no longer comatose, moving through her day zombielike, and was starting to accomplish things. If she was honest with herself, she had to concede that accepting help was the only thing that had made her start trying again. She’d resumed taking Harper to school each day and forced herself to focus on her daughter when they were together. While she would never be the Charlotte she used to be, she was doing her best to be the mother that Harper deserved.
“Do you think you’ll go back to work?” Harper asked as Charlotte drove.
She suddenly saw herself in her office, getting the terrible news. There was no way she could go back there. She shook her head. “No, that chapter of my life is over.”
“Well, like, aren’t you bored being home all day? You’ve got to do something, right? Madison says it’s not good to have no purpose in life.”
She bit back a sarcastic retort. Eli’s assistant, Madison, had stepped in a lot over the past year, picking up Harper when Eli was tied up and Charlotte too depressed to leave the house. But she didn’t like the idea of the woman talking about her, especially with her daughter.
“When did she say that?” she asked, keeping her voice even.