Fan Fiction ❯ Of Earth and Fire ❯ Addy. August 17, 1992 ( Chapter 5 )

ADDY. August 17, 1992

 

Okay. We're home. … Don't just sit there like that. You've got to go in; Dusty is probably starving and I have to get home too. Roger … Rog, are you going to be okay? I can...hang around a little while if you need me too, I -

 

Well, alright then. I'll see you…tomorrow. Won't I? You'll be coming into work, right? Okay. Take care of yourself. I - I'll see you tomorrow.

 

He looks at me once more, a look of painful surrender to the disease that is growing in his body, as he shuts the door of the car. I neither move, nor do I start the car. He walks up the sidewalk and opens his door, which is not locked, of course. He does not look back as he closes the door behind him. He knew that I would stay parked where I was until I knew he had made it inside. He knows me too well. I wait a few more minutes, assuring myself the entire time that he will be okay inside. I drop my head.

 

A voice inside me asks, as if it were a being next to me in the passenger's seat, `Why didn't you say it?'

 

Say what? I ask aloud in response, lifting not my eyes or the tone of my voice.

 

`Why didn't you tell him that you love him?'

 

I close my eyes tight, dumb in response. I cannot give an answer. For the first time in years the words had crossed my mind as I was saying goodbye to him. I held the words back as if they had been a bad swear word that had nearly slipped…and how close they had come. Why hadn't I told him? Because I can't. I can't. I haven't said them since -

 

…

 

It would almost be too painful to bring up such memories…

 

No.

 

It would be too painful.

 

`Painful that you're not in his arms right now…' the voice whispers to me again. I shake my head as I hold back tears; tears that I have no idea their reason of existence. I can't be in arms now…not ever. It is too dangerous and I know this.

 

And then Her face comes to mind. Her beautiful, innocent seven-year-old face. I cannot bear to reminisce.

 

I start the car and pull out of Roger's driveway before I am overly compelled to go inside. I'll see him in the morning…he'll be just fine until then.

 

I drive home knowing that in the morning all of this will have passed. He will be teaching classes and I will be answering phones, just like it has been everyday for at least five years. Neither of us will mention this day's events and won't for some time…until it becomes necessary again. I wonder how serious his sickness is and how long it will be until that necessary day comes. Will it be next month? Next year? Five years from now?

 

I am not sure, but I know that I will be by his side to face that day with him…whenever it comes.