Last Words

Chapter 1: Midnight Love is a powerful emotion. Loving Jack was the essence of my happiness. Now, my heart was breaking, destroying all my hopes for the future. I entered the bathroom with a bottle of wine and a glass. I put them on the floor next to the bathtub. Turning the faucet, hot water filled the tub. Lavender candles were next to the sink. Lighting them, the fragrance reminded me of Mother’s perfume. I closed my eyes and wished she was here to tell me everything was going to be alright. I dimmed the lights so the flames of the candles illuminated the room. The steam fogged the mirror. I wiped it away and saw the misery in my eyes. A single tear rolled down my cheek. Consumed with despair, I desperately wanted the bath to help me relax. The sound of the rushing water filling the tub was inviting. Maybe the soothing water will help me put the past behind me. Stepping into the tub, I sat down and leaned back finding a comfortable position. The warm water was therapeutic. Yet, memories of my love for Jack haunted me. Jack and I were once soul mates. Now our relationship had deteriorated. It was shredded like a sweater snagged and pulled until the yarn was nothing but a pile of useless cotton. In the deepest moment of despair, my existence was expendable. A razor on the bathtub edge glistened in the candlelight. I looked at it in a way I had never imagined before. The overwhelming urge to run the razor up my wrist was somehow revolting, yet satisfying. Eyes closing, I visualized the cold metal slashing flesh wide open. I pictured blood flowing from my soon to be lifeless body, turning the bath red. I contemplated dropping the razor of death into the hot water. The oils once meant to relax stinging tender wrist as my limp body sank into the crimson water. Tears and blood gushing out like a leaking faucet ready to burst. I imagined begging God to make the intolerable pain end. Death needed to be quick instead of the throbbing blood oozing out of mutilated veins. Caught up in the moment, I gasped for breath. The struggle for air jolted my senses back to reality. Looking into the clear bath confirmed suicide had been a nightmare. Inebriation had made the wish to end the misery more intense. Inhibitions were crumbling as my heart was breaking. Lifting my hand, the engagement ring sparkled in the candlelight symbolizing Jack’s broken promises. Tonight, New Year’s Eve, we planned to be married at the stroke of midnight. Leaving 1999 behind and embracing the new millennium as husband and wife would be a once in a lifetime romantic experience. Now instead of becoming Mrs. Jack Hale, a dream I had chased for years, I was determined to commit suicide. The wristwatch on the vanity showed fifteen more minutes to live. At midnight, I will end all the pain. I slid the ring off. “Why did you let them come between us? You could have stayed with me. We could have had everything we dreamed about, all of it,” I said, throwing the ring on the floor. My stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten in hours and had too much burgundy and not enough food. Jack loved my cooking. Extraordinary food and wine had brought our hearts together. If his father’s wine business were not a part of my stepfather’s restaurant, then we would never have met. It had been fate. Trying to get comfortable, I slouched down into the hot water up to my chin. Relaxing, memories of admiring Jack from afar came flooding back. He was a dashing businessman who had captured my heart the moment he walked into Hale’s View, my stepfather’s restaurant. In the middle of a lunch rush, the other chefs ran around like chickens with their heads cut off, as I stood transfixed. The commotion of workers went by like a blur as I focused only on him. His intoxicating presence made his movements become like slow motion. Soaking up every enchanting move, coworkers brushed past me. Shortly after, I learned he was ten years older and much more advanced in his career, I had serious doubts he would find a younger, less worldly person desirable. Doubt was replaced with love after months of admiration. We could look into each other’s eyes for hours. His gaze always seemed intense as if he was looking into my soul. I felt at peace with him, completely satisfied by knowing that I was cherished. Goosebumps formed as the bath cooled. I had been staring into the water for several minutes.