Page 9 of Retribution

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to get you a copy,” my face pulls into a tight smile, a shiver running along my spine.

“I’m all finished up now, Mr. Breckenridge. I’ll be seeing you tomorrow!” She begins to throw on her green parka.

“Call me Reed, there’s no need for last name basis here.”

“Well, Reed. Good night.” Bridget waves as she walks through the hallway, leaving the house. As soon as she closes the door behind her, the silence becomes daunting.

Inhaling deeply, I let myself falter. This week has been stressful, not only with my new job ventures, but with the news of this impending divorce and the long road ahead.

I hope Willow isn’t angry at me for her missing out on dance practice. In all fairness, it was Allie who had decided to take a business trip earlier in the week and disrupted their usual schedule, hence the need for a nanny now.

Sitting at the kitchen island, I scroll through the business news. Yet another law firm has lost clients due to sexual harassment case against one of their employees. I raise an eyebrow but deep down it all works best for me in business favor.

Taking leftover takeout from the refrigerator, I give it a sniff before popping it into the microwave.

I’ve been staying in the spare room for months now, not even because of our relationship struggles but because of the clashing of our working hours. We kept disrupting each others sleep that it just became easier to sleep separately, until it became favored.

If I’m being truthful, I do miss her. I hate allowing myself to feel these moments, remembering what we once were before life decided to test our limits, push and pull us in completely different directions.

We weren’t always so bitter, so eager to displease one another, wanting to hurt each other in every which way.

It’s like we began a battle of who can do the worst damage, who can break each other first. So far, it seems she is winning with her new plan of destroying my life by taking my daughter away from me, as if she is something that can be traded and spent.

Surprisingly, I have expected it would come to this. It’s one of the last cards she can pull, she’s tried everything else and if I’m honest so have I.

I’m broken from my thoughts by the ping of the microwave, the hunger I had diminished from the thoughts of Allie.

Leaving the food in the microwave, I choose to lounge on the couch, using the remote to flip on the TV. The evening news fills the screen, something that can take my mind off of my own troubles. Paying attention for a measly few minutes, I drift off into a slumber.

“…a horrific accident with several casualties on route one-four-one, emergency services have been tirelessly trying to attend to the victims. However, we can confirm there are three deceased victims. The other two victims have been airlifted to Piedmont Hospital, updates to follow.”

Inching my eyes open, they focus in on air footage of a horrific accident between a trucker and two vehicles.

I rub my eyes and sit up. I squint at the sixty-inch TV sitting in front of me and my eyes grow wide. The camera zooms in on a stray registration plate on the highway.

I blink.

“The scenes are too graphic to display, but we can confirm three deceased victims and two seriously injured victims airlifted Piedmont Hospital, we warn other drivers to avoid route one-four-one at this moment in time.”

This must be a coincidence.

Standing up, suddenly nauseous, I grab my phone and instantly dial Allie’s number.

Straight to voicemail.

I try again.

Voicemail.

Pacing around the living room, I dial the usual driver for Allie.

Voicemail.

This is really happening.

It can’t be.

Two victims at Piedmont Hospital, three deceased.

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