Angels

            In the morning, after Rick had gone downstairs, I put on the dress I’d worn to the exhibition.  It felt like a crime against beauty, to just leave it hanging in the closet.  I then slipped out the backdoor and made my way to the cliffs.  After walking a little ways I found a decent spot, far from my usual destinations, and hidden by some trees. 

            For a while I stood there, staring down at the beach.  I thought about how Ethan would only take the kitchen garbage out if I removed the bag from the trash can first, whereas Rick always emptied it without my asking.  He was so perfect in so many ways.  But I could no longer navigate the warzone inside.  I hadn’t left a note for him—I hadn’t left a note for anyone—but he, of all people, would understand why.  As I watched a man walking his dog in the distance, I felt a wave of guilt.  It would be terrible for whoever found me.  I hoped they would forgive me for it. 

I lifted my foot off of the grass.   Just as I started to lean forward, something yanked me back.

            Rick. 

How had I not heard him come up from behind me?

            I tried to fight against him, but neither my strength nor my determination proved any match for his.  “Stop it!” he barked.  He was gripping both of my arms and gazing down upon me with an anguish I’d never known he could feel.  “There’s another solution,” he told me.  “One that doesn’t involve self-annihilation!”

            “No there isn’t,” I retorted.  “I’m so sorry, I don’t want to leave you, but I’ve tried everything-”

            “Stevie, listen to me,” Rick interrupted. 

Something about his voice made me go still. 

When I looked up into his eyes it was as if I could see all of space and time extending before me.