you turned into a photograph of somebody trying not to laugh at somebody trying not to cry ― E.E. Cummings
Sarah
We were trying to catch a pair of moles inside our local police force.
We had crept about the detachment after hours carefully placing covert cameras. It was odd―cops spying on cops, but no less surreal than being betrayed by one of our own.
The work wasn't hard but somehow emotionally draining. Clare felt it too, By the time we finished we both were totally exhausted.
"Why am I so tired?" Clare asked.
I hugged her and brushed a stray wisp of hair from her eyes. "Because what we are doing takes its toll. It's like being betrayed by someone in your own family. It depletes all your energy."
She looked wan and pale. "I can't do the stakeout tonight, Cam, can we start tomorrow?"
"Of course," I smiled compassionately, "we'll have the video tomorrow anyway and that'll give us potential suspects we can check."
"I've got to go home and crash," she murmured. "Promise me you'll do the same and not freelance on your own."
I kissed her lightly on the lips, "Learned my lesson from the last time. Don't worry―I feel as wiped out as you do. I'll order takeout pizza and go straight to bed."
"See you in the morning, then. Sweet dreams."
I watched while she walked out to her car, then I got in my SUV and headed to my loft.
As I drove images of her from the day before kept flashing through my mind. She was bright and lovely as the autumn leaves and those images would be forever imprinted on my mind along with the memory of our first kiss.
When I finally got home, it felt weird―the loft that had seemed quiet and cozy now struck me as being hollow and empty, as if something were missing. I realized it wasn't something but someone and I tried to push the thought from my mind.
I ordered pizza and salad and lit some candles as I poured myself a glass of cab sav. I'd often offer a toast, even when alone, muttering, in vino veritas―in wine there is truth, but tonight I'd amend that―in vino oblivio―in wine there's forgetfulness, because that's what I desired.
Thoughts of Sarah, my dead partner, kept intruding, particularly, a surreal red rose blooming from her forehead, before I realized she had been shot dead.
Thankfully my morose memories were interrupted by the arrival of the pizza and when I began began plating it, I realized how hungry I was. In my preoccupation with finding her killer I had neglected to eat lunch and now was ravenous.
I ate my fill and sat back contentedly on the couch, listening to a soft jazz album appropriately called, Dark Sacred Night and sipping my wine.
I felt the wheel of my mind gently come to rest and my body fall into a deep sleep.
Then, Sarah came as she always did, but this time I was reliving the day we gathered leaves, the last autumn together before she left.
I had almost forgotten that day but now the memory returned as vivid as when I lived it the first time. She was lying beside me staring up at coloured leaves, and then she turned to me and told me she loved me.
It was the first time she said it and it brought tears to my eyes. I wanted to tell her first but was too shy and when I heard her speak the words it was so unexpected my emotions welled up.
She looked at me with a bemused smile. "I wouldn't have told you if it made you sad."
"I'm not sad―it's joy. I wanted to tell you first, but lacked the nerve."
"Well, I have enough nerve for both of us," she laughed.
She was right. She was always more honest than me, braver and more adventurous. I didn't deserve her, but she loved me and that thought overwhelmed me.
I hugged her and buried my face in her hair. I wanted to hold her forever.
I awoke to candlelight and music in the dark loft, arms aching with remembrance, but finding only absence.
I foolishly called her name and heard it echo hollow in the silence.
I shut off the music, blew out the candles and fumbled my way to bed. I fell into it exhausted and seeking a reprieve from this torment...
But when I turned to stare at stars through my window my sweater sleeve rustled against something.
I turned on the lamp and stared at fragments of coloured leaves.
To be continued…
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