Broken Inside

I put the rose on the coffin and held Matthew tight. He didn’t know what was going on. Brooke’s parents told me that I shouldn’t let him see this. He was too young they told me. I thought it was a load of shit. He should be there to say goodbye. “Adieu, mon amour.” I whispered through my tears. Matthew wiped them away and hugged my neck.

“Why are you crying Daddy?” He asked.

“Say ‘adieu mommy’.” I instructed him and handed him a rose.

“Adieu Mommy.” He said, dropping the rose before turning back to me and asking, “When are we gonna leave?” He didn’t understand it. I knew he was too young to understand death.

“Soon.” I held him tightly as they lowered the coffin down. I was so numb suddenly. I couldn’t cry anymore. Matthew wriggled down as the procession slowly walked away. I watched him run to Brooke’s mother and show her a flower he’d picked. Dylan put his arm around my shoulders.

“Is there anything I can do?” He asked. “Anything.”

“No.” I whispered staring at the epitaph.

Brooke Summer Leveque
April 10, 1972 – March 2, 1995
Loving wife, mother and friend

She was too young. Too full of life. It wasn’t fair. She’d never see Matthew grow up. She wouldn’t be there when our little girl needed her. I knew that she’d need a mother. Maybe not at first, but when she became a teenager, got married, had her first child. She’d need her mother, but she wouldn’t be there. Suddenly, I was so mad I kicked the grey marble. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I yelled. “You’re so fucking selfish! How could you do this!?!” People turned and stared. Dylan grabbed me and pulled me away.

“Be strong, Meeky. Don’t let Matthew see you like this.”

“She abandoned us, Dill.”

“I know, but Meeka, sometimes…sometimes things go wrong. Nobody thought…”

“It’s all my fault.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it is! I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t say anything. She called me the day she did it sobbing. Saying she was sorry. Sorry for what she was planning to do obviously. I went home. She told me she was fine but I knew she wasn’t. I am so stupid.” The tears were back. Dylan stared at me a couple seconds before hugging me.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“Why are you sorry? I’m sorry. She was your sister and I let her die. How can you forgive me? How can your family ever forgive me? How can Matthew or the baby ever forgive me?”

“You didn’t know. Man, she hadn’t been herself in years. Matthew changed her. She had post-partum depression. We all knew that.” He move a bit uncomfortably . “Maybe…maybe she felt guilty or something.”

“God, shut up.” I mumbled.

“Meeka, I’m taking Matthew back to my house. You can come get him whenever you’re ready.” Brooke’s mother, Jeana told, a hand on my shoulder. I nodded. After she walked away Dylan turned to me.

“Did she leave a note?”

“I don’t know.” I shivered. I never went back home and I was too scared that night.” Dylan nodded. “Do you want me to help you go back and clean it all up?” I shook my head.

“I need to do it alone.”

“You sure?” I nodded. “Well, if you need me I’ll be at my mom’s.”

“Okay.”

“See ya, man.” He hugged me and started to walk away.

“Dylan?” He spun around.

“Yeah?”

“Can you just come with me? Like just stay downstairs while I do it?” Dylan nodded.

The house was eerily quite. It was cold. Dylan cleaned up the remnants of the dinner I’d been cooking as I went up to the bathroom. The blood still stained everything. So much blood. I pulled off my jacket and rolled up the sleeves. I cleaned everything. I sat down on our bed and held our wedding picture in my hands. We’d both been so happy that night. It was the first time we experienced each other. I laid on her side of the bed and breathed in her smell. Lilacs and vanilla. I turned and saw the letter on my pillow. With shaking hands, I picked it up.



Dearest Meeka,

If you’re reading this, you know what I’ve done. I’m sorry. I really am. I tried to be strong, but there just comes a time when it’s too much. You were right when you told me three years ago that I needed to talk about what happened. I feel too much pain. I can’t look at Matthew anymore. I can barely look at you because I feel like our pact ruined your life. I feel so guilty. I’m sorry. I love you with all my heart. I wish I could say that I love Matthew, but I can’t. I did at one point, but when he looks at me I feel like a part of that man is looking at me. I can’t take it. If you can forgive, I’d be so grateful. I wanted to hold out for our daughter to be born, but I can’t. Maybe she’ll live. Who knows. I hope she does for your sake and not mine. You deserve a child of your own. You’re a wonderful dad. I can’t believe how great you are. If she lives, I like the name Lillian, Lily for short. Tell everyone I love them. Tell the goodbye for me like no other language could.

Love with my whole heart,
Brooke Leveque
Adieu mon ami, mon amour♥

I stared at the note. It was so short. I stared at it, reading it and rereading it until the words were blurred. I ripped it to shreds and threw it into the room. I hated her. I couldn’t stand the thought of her. I threw her pillow across the room. I smashed the vase she’d loved so much. I couldn’t stand her. I stormed downstairs. Dylan grabbed me by my arms.

“Meeka…what’s wrong.”

“Get everything out. Everything that has to do with Brooke. I’m burning everything.”

“No. Hell no. What the fuck? You don’t want to do that.”

“She killed herself! She did it to our family. She didn’t even care about the baby! She didn’t love Matthew. She hated him. How can you hate your own child!?!”

“Calm down, Meeka. We all know.”

“Know what?” I was shaking with tears.

“We know that Matthew’s not yours. You know too now.” I glared at him.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Shit…I thought that’s what you…”

“He’s mine more than anyone’s! I’ve taken care of him and loved him since the day she told me about him. What the fuck does it matter that some asshole raped her? She told me she wouldn’t tell anyone. She made me promise!” I grabbed my hair in my fists and sat down against the wall and sobbed. “Don’t you dare say he’s not mine.”

“Meeka, what do you mean raped? She never told us anything. He just doesn’t look like you at all. He looks like…”

“Don’t take him from me.” I said grabbing the front of his shirt. “Do not take him from me.”

“I wasn’t…” I let go and nodded.

“Don’t tell anyone. Especially, not Matthew. Never tell him the truth. Not even if he’s eighty.” I whispered. “I want to go see Lily.”

“Who?”

“My daughter. Lillian Antoinette. That’s her name.”