Left In The Dark

Chapter 20.1

I was immobilized by the sheer grief that was sweeping through me. This was the worst I have ever felt. Yet, the pain I experienced was not of my own. It was for him. Walking up closer to the pictures, I touched each one of them. With each person I felt the agony of losing Shawn resonate within me. Three times over. This must be how Lazaro felt. It was in that moment of empathy that I found some admiration for him. When I first met him he had such warmth and a lively glow about him. He smiled as if life was grand and all was good with the world. He shone so bright. And I killed that all in him. I made him revisit a point in his life that probably took him a long time to overcome. He was living in the light and I dragged him back into the darkness where I resided. Knowing that, in this moment, I never felt so low. I am selfish. Wiping my tears, I dismounted the three frames and exited the room in search of Lazaro. I found him in the living room sitting on the couch. His body was slumped forward-his head was practically sandwiched between his knees. He cupped the back of his head. Body trembled, overcame with emotion.

I pressed the pictures against my chest and drunk in the sorrowful sight before me. The sounds of his warbling cries did more than tug at my heart strings. They snapped. I took cautionary steps towards him. He didn't bother to look up and kept his head burrowed in his legs. I walked over to the couch and sat on my knees which dug into the cushion. I was facing him. The pictures were now rested in my lap and I peered at them one more time. Something inside of me wanted to hear their story. I needed to. Ever since I've met Lazaro I resisted delving too deep into his life but now, all I wanted was to hear everything about it. Shifting through the photographs, I was curious about each of their stories. Their eyes invited me in. After being a silent observer to his lament, I finally spoke in hopes to get him to share. I lightly tapped his shoulder and he drew back a little from my contact.

My lips trembled. "Al?"

Finally he looked up from his self made hole. And it broke my heart all over again. The tears were dripping from the tip of his nose, which was as red as his eyes. I reached into my lap and retrieved the picture of who I assumed was his wife. The beautiful chocolate skinned woman. His eyes followed my every move; prefixed on her face. I held it out for him but he didn't budge or show any signs of even wanting to take it. His gaze was still locked on the picture. Looking afraid to touch it. I bit my lip and stretched over to grab his hand. He sniffled and stared at me quizzically. But he didn't deny my gesture. Opening up the hand I took, I placed the woman's picture in it. Lazaro left his focus on me with pleading eyes. Without words he was asking me what I was doing.

"Tell me... about her." I whispered squeezing down on his hand so that the frame wouldn't fall because he barely had a grip on it.

Lazaro looked down, now cradling the golden frame with both hands. With the pad of his thumb he swiped over her face. I crawled over closer to him and sat with my feet tucked underneath me. He shook his head as another tear rolled down his cheek. His mouth shook like it was a struggle to form a response. I rubbed my hand along his back in a soothing way hoping that he would open up. He breathed deeply and sighed as he wiped his face. The woman was placed upright on the coffee table. I removed my hand when he sat back to just gape at her. We both stared.

"T." He replied in a cracked tone.

I glanced over at him. "What?"

He sighed heavily rubbing his chin. "Her name was Tika... I called her T."

I nodded and watched him intently-every muscle in his face quaked.

"Was she your wife?" I asked softly.

He nodded his head and pinched his lips. I waited for him to elaborate but all he did was nod. It was as if he was on autopilot. His head bobbed absently while he looked like he was in a daze. It was as if I was finally outside of myself when I observed him. Now I knew what he meant when he said he saw himself when he looked at me because I felt the exact same way now looking at him. All I wanted to do was hold him but I fought that urge.