Page 14 of Beyond Oblivion

Dad pointed at the middle of the worn bench seat. “You see that spot right there?”

I leaned in, squinting like I was trying to read the fine print on a contract. “Uhhh… no?”

“That’s where your mom sat on our first date. It’s where I scored my first kiss, and where she said yes to being my wife. It’s also the same spot she sat on the way to every OB appointment for all five of you troublemakers, and where I scooped her up and carried her inside after the doc told us to call hospice. I saved up to buy it brand new just to impress her.”

“So, you’re keeping it then?”

He chuckled, nudging me just enough that I had to sidestep. “Wash up. I’ll grab us some cold ones from the fridge.”

I made my way to the bathroom and turned on the faucet, lathering my hands while I stared at my reflection in the mirror. The dark circles under my eyes were advertisements for the six hours of nonstop nightmares I’d had the night before, because nothing says “sweet dreams” like the kind of images playing on a loop in my subconscious so morbid and terrifying that they drove me to drop out of college. Now that my mind had inexplicably added my wife as the headliner, it was the brand of torture that would make a horror movie director cry. Just what I needed—insomnia with a side of emotional torture.

As the water cascaded over my hands, clips of the nightmare flooded my thoughts.

Camille is giggling, blissfully unaware she’s behind the wheel of the same car Mackenzie died in. Moments later, a sudden jolt slams her head against the window. The world becomes a blur of headlights circling like a Ferris Wheel as we flip over and over. When the car finally comes to a stop, upside down with the wheels still spinning, I turn to look at her.

Camille isn’t there.

I crawl out, scanning the tall grass, until I find a trail of blood leading me to my dying wife. Camille whimpers, calls my name, and I rush to her, falling to my knees. Her body is mangled, her limbs broken, her abdomen open with her insides exposed.

She points, and then I see it—a tiny hand and arm reaching out from the wreckage.

Camille is choking on her own blood, and when our eyes meet, we both know we only have a few precious moments left.

“Trenton?” Dad called.

I snapped awake, shutting off the faucet and drying my hands. “Coming!”

Dad met me at the end of the hall, cold beer in hand. I took the bottle and chugged half of it back. When I finally pulled it from my lips, I could see the concern in his eyes.

“You gonna tell me about this nightmare, or do you need to drink the other half of that beer?”

I let out a nervous laugh and then trailed after him into the living room.

Like the truck, Dad kept everything in the house the same as Mom left it. The same brown calico carpet, same worn couch, same old photos on the wall, like it was all auditioning for atime capsule of sadnessdocumentary.

I’d always hoped I’d love a woman that much. I just didn’t think about what it’d do to me if I ever lost her. Each time I woke up from one of my nightmares, gasping for breath and sweaty, relief would wash over me that it wasn’t real and Camille was okay. My next thoughts were always of Dad. It seemed impossible, now that I was married to the love of my life, that Dad survived Mom’s death. I’d always thought of him as the strongest man I knew, but choosing not to give up after helplessly watching his wife waste away and then take her last breath? That transcended strength.

Travis had nightmares about the fire for years, but I couldn’t bring myself to talk to him about it. There had been an invisible wall between us—even if it was in my own mind—built out of guilt, pain, and all the shit we never said. I wasn’t even sure he’d forgiven me until I finally got him cornered one night, long enough to pry a confession out of him about that time he’d come back from Vegas looking like he’d gone ten rounds with a heavyweight.

Turns out, Abby’s dad had gotten himself in deep with some big-shot Vegas mafia guy, and Travis had stepped in to help her scrape together the money to bail him out.Classic Travis. Save the day, take the punches, keep his mouth shut.But that night, something shifted. Maybe it was the way I listened without judgment, or maybe he was just tired of carrying it all, but he opened up about the fire—like he had to answer for everyone who didn’t make it out.

He made me swear it was the last time I’d bring it up, though. Said just hearing about it was enough to bring the nightmares roaring back for months. So, I promised. But damn, I wanted to know how he managed to silence those nightmares. Since I couldn’t ask him, I had to turn to Dad instead.

I took another swig of my beer. “Remember when I had nightmares after Kenzie died?”

Dad nodded.

“They started up again after the accident with Cami. They got less frequent as time went by. Little things would trigger them, ya know? Like when Cam would sweep back her bangs and I’d notice that little white scar by her hairline or being in the hospital when one of the grandkids were born. It’s been almost a year since I’ve had one. But then Kenzie’s little sister came into Skin Deep the other day, we’ve started talking again, and they’re back. They’re not just back, they’re worse—way worse than they’ve ever been. Maddie says it’s really been helping her, ya know… to talk to me about it. Cami says it’s too traumatic.”

“Uh huh,” Dad said, nodding his head.

“I don’t really wanna… I’m kinda scared to sleep,” I said, chuckling. Tears burned my eyes, and I wiped them away quickly. “And I’m so tired, Dad. Like my soul’s tired. I love Cami so much, and I almost lost her. And not like I fucked up and lost her, like lost her forever, permanently. I worry. A lot. Every time she gets behind the wheel. Do you know how hard it is for me not to insist I drive her everywhere? I made excuses about money when she was cleared to drive again so she wouldn’t buy a new car. I guess… I just wanted to ask you… how do you forget? How do you move on and keep being the person you were before? The same happy, content person who doesn’t feel like the world’s about to implode every time someone you care about steps out of sight? What I really wanna know is… how did you sleep again?”

Dad sighed, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. “It’s been years since I’ve had a nightmare about your mom, but she still shows up in my dreams. Sometimes she’s confused that I look older. That’s why I keep the house the same, because I want that to at least feel familiar to her. Sometimes she leaves and I beg her to stay, but she always just gives me a kiss and tells me it’s gonna be all right. I’m desperate for her not to leave, but to her, she’s just going to the grocery store. She never understands that it could be years before she finds her way back. It took me a lot of night terrors to get to the not-so-bad ones, and if I’m honest, even the good ones still leave me feeling empty once I open my eyes and realize I’m living in a world without her in it.”

“Because they’re so real,” I said.

He nodded, his expression serious. “The truth is, son, you’ll never be the person you were. And that’s okay, because none of us are meant to go through life stagnant. Kenzie was here one moment and gone the next. You didn’t lose Cami, but you lost the illusion that death wouldn’t touch her until she’s old and gray. What people fail to understand is that everything good in life is a package deal… but that’swhyit’s good. With happiness comes sadness, with life comes death, and with love comes loss. It’s the only way you grow perspective and appreciation for what you’ve got.

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