Blood Money

I count it for the whatever number time. I hand it to her and she hands it to the receptionist.

-

I'm holding her hand and she has tears in her eyes.
She says "I'm sorry" in a voice barely above a whisper.
She says it one more time and my heart feels as though it will break.
I tell her it will be okay as I squeeze her nearly limp hand.

-

I walk into the waiting room, put my head in my hands and silently cry my eyes out. I don't sob, I don't physically collapse, but rather the tears just stream and stream and stream and I don't fight it. I know I can't and I just let it pour forth.

-

I don't know why but in this moment a quote comes to me, a quote long forgotten....but somehow it perfectly articulates the wordless emotions washing over me:" And in the middle of them, with filthy body, matted hair, and unwiped nose, Ralph wept for the end of innocence, the darkness of man's heart, and the fall through the air of the true, wise friend called Piggy."

-

I drove her home and put her to bed.
I think of the ultrasound even though I don't want to and I feel immense guilt.
I feel the kind of guilt I'm not sure I'll ever be able let go or forget or repress deep enough to even moderately escape for a time.

-

I see her and that moment, and I hear her voice whisper I'm sorry and I know this will haunt me for a very long time to come. Making the rational decision makes it no less crushing.

- Yrs. in whatever