Hurt

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Hurt

We were sitting at the dining room table when the phone rang, and Angelo got up to answer it. We had gotten pizza on the way home, but I was no longer hungry. I had lost my appetite, still upset by the earlier call.

"I am going to the den to talk a moment," he said, kissing my brow. "I'll be back." I nodded and watched him walk away, my heart aching thinking about how hurt he must be.

I put the remaining pizza in a container and placed it in the refrigerator. Then I wiped off the table and went to my room. Sitting on my bed, I drew my legs up and pressed my face against my bent knees, pondering our situation. Truthfully, I didn't know what to think anymore. With one phone call, my world had been turned upside down yet again. Angelo hadn't seemed surprised at all, it had just been a confirmation of what looked to be the finality of their marriage. I never knew my heart could hurt so much.

A long while later, Angelo came in and sat down. He opened his arms and I moved into them.

"She doesn't love us anymore," I murmured, my face buried in his shirt.

"Oh, piccola, she is just sick right now. Her drinking is a sickness and she needs help."

"Why won't she let us help her? We could."

"I know, sweetheart. I want to, but she needs more help than we can give her."

"We can pray."

"You are right. Let's do that right now. Would you like me to say it or would you like to?"

"I will."

I never knew how to pray until coming to live with Angelo. He taught me how, and now I never missed a night of prayer because I knew how important it was to God to hear from me. Angelo taught me that, too.

We knelt beside my bed and I took a moment to ponder what I wanted to say. When I finally began, the words that came to my mind were few.

"Please, God, help Suzanne to know we love her. Help her to not hurt anymore. In Jesus's name, amen." I looked up at Angelo. "Was that okay?"

"That was perfect." He hugged me and left me to change into my pajamas. A few minutes later, he came back and tucked me in. It was still early, but my heart was tired and I just wanted to sleep. Angelo kissed me and sat with me for a little while until I drifted off.

* * *

A short time later I awoke to the sound of sirens and I looked out my bedroom window. At the sight of the ambulance, I jumped up and raced down the stairs, yelling Angelo's name. I moved to the open doorway and he turned and caught me up in his arms, turning me away just as the paramedics were pulling Suzanne from the taxi. Just that brief glimpse of her still body was enough to traumatize me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and cried. It was happening again. It was Mama all over again. As Angelo held me, I heard him crying too. It was like a bad dream I couldn't seem to wake up from. And I wondered if I would ever be able to sleep again.

* * *

The next day, because he could not lie to me, Angelo told me what happened.

He said the cause of Suzanne's death was an overdose. Her heart stopped. It just finally gave out. She simply went to sleep and never woke up.

* * *

Three days later, we stood beside her grave, staring at the bronze, carnation-draped casket hovering over the waiting hole in the earth. We were alone now. Everyone else had left after offering their condolences and heartfelt words of comfort. Suzanne's parents had been the last to say goodbye. They had hugged us and promised to always be there when we needed them.

Watching them walk away, I told myself I would never need anyone but Angelo, and I begged God to never take him away from me.

This graveside service had been no different from my mother's. Both women had been troubled and lost, at least that's what I heard someone whisper during the service. Their words didn't make me angry, only sad because they were true. As young as I was, even I could see that.

As Angelo slipped on his sunglasses, tightened his hand around mine, and we walked back to the waiting limo, I realized that, in a different way, we were lost now too.


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