Uncertain

The table was almost set, as if signalling the start of something unforgettable. Sarah placed the chilled bottle of wine on the table completing the scene, its deep red hue matching her cold-shoulder, waterfall ruffle dress. She paused for a moment, a small smile dancing on her lips as she anticipated the evenings promise. The wait was thrilling, excitement and impatience bubbled inside her, and she longed to unravel the past few months with John present beside her. The taste of his lips, his deep, rich voice spinning stories in her head and the depths she was sure to reach whilst lost in his arms. Sarah could hardly wait! Her door bell chimed, a welcomed interruption to her thoughts and she rushed swiftly to embrace him.

Sarah unlocked the door to two strangers in camouflaged clothing. Taken aback, she steadied herself whilst the men motioned for permission to step inside. One spoke, but she only heard muffled rumbling. The sound of both their voices pressed against her eardrums, sending heart-pounding vibrations that seemed to shake her reality.

Everything else faded into an eerie, suspended quiet, except for those persistent, invasive words of shock and horrific impact. Sarah clung to her dress, flinging herself to the ground. She screamed but no sound filled the room, only a rush of tears, mirroring the chilled bottle of wine on her table, its droplets gathering and slowly trailing down the sides. Who were these strangers and what were they doing in her home? How could they claim they would send personal items? She didn’t want personal items, she wanted her person. She wanted John!

She curled her legs bringing them to her stomach. This couldn’t be, it couldn’t be true. “John!” She finally heard herself scream. She flung her body, hitting the back of her head against the ceramic coffee table and giving pain the permission it sought to fully shoot through her veins, but it paled in comparison to the one that shot through her sinus node. ‘Don’t hurt yourself’, she heard a male voice say. Hurt? She was already hurt! Sarah felt hands pull her suddenly, lifting her into the solid embrace of an older mans chest. She beat against them in rebellion until she melted in surrender to the warmth and comfort they offered.

The next few weeks were as much a blur as the tears gathering in Sarah’s eyes. Reality hit her with the same intensity as the deafening clang of those heavy words. John was gone and her life would never be the same, hadn’t been the same. The doorbell rang, pulling her from her haze of grief and reminding her of the time. For the past two weeks, it had chimed at 4 p.m. sharp, and each day. It was the only marker by which she kept track of the hours. Whoever stood behind her door was clearly methodical. Sarah dragged her body up and across the floor till she stood, face to face with the enemy. The last time she opened it, it brought news that destroyed her. How much more damage could a door do this time? Perhaps, in this instance, opening it would bring news of comfort. She inched the door open, hesitating with every movement. She looked on to see a tall, handsome man with sea blue eyes and short wavy blonde hair. His broad shoulders exuded authority and his face was warm. He introduced himself, but Sarah already knew he was Mark, the first sergeant (1SG) and John’s superior turned friend.

‘May I come in?’ Mark sought permission whilst taking in the miserable sight of Sarah. She looked pale, her brown eyes appeared dull, and her loosely curled light red hair was matted on her back, tangled in knots from neglect. Sarah obliged moving to reveal glass pieces spread across the floor, cushions scattered and the dried evidence of coloured liquid proudly displayed on her rug and wooden floor. Mark looked around, her home was a mess and so was she. ‘I would apologise for the mess, but then i would be lying,’ She announced dryly. She sounded emotionless and that concerned him. ‘I wouldn’t expect anything else from a woman who just lost the love of her life,’ Mark replied, half distracted. He proceeded to open the windows, releasing the musty unpleasant odour that sat in the thick air, and then to tidy up, only asking out of formality if Sarah didn’t mind.

Mark supported Sarah with coordinating John’s memorial service with military honours. He arrived at 4 p.m. each day as was his routine with her. The sight of him in his uniform made her heart bleed and long for John, but she was thankful, even anticipating his visits. They talked about John and sat in silence at other times. He was comforting and gentle with her, listening like a place of solace. He became her anchor, the one thing steady when it was evident that all else had unraveled. ‘I have something to tell you,’ Mark broke the silence with a concerning tone one evening. ‘I need you to be strong and please don’t blame yourself,’ he held her hands and gaze firmly. Sarah listened intently, her eyes flashing from angry to sad, shocked to repulsed, confusion to denial, before finally settling in disbelief. After moments of stunned silence, her voice wrestled with the news and finally dared to pierce the quiet. ‘My John wouldn’t do that, that’s not my John,’ Sarah’s voice was shaking, filling the heavy air with disbelief and hesitant emotion. ‘Get out! How dare you! How dare you taint his name in his absence.’ She stood abruptly and paced the room before walking right back to Mark. ‘God! He cannot defend himself and you sit there, on his couch, and throw deep stains on the memory I have of him. You are sick, sick!’ Her eyes lit with fire, but were stained with tears. Mark tried to reach out but he was no match against the fury of a scorned woman. ‘Get the hell out!’ She roared like a storm that no force could tame.

Mark stood searching his pocket and quickly pointed his phone in Sarah’s direction. A man stood there, but he could have been anyone. Anyone, except there was no mistaking that deep, rich and commanding tone that exuded confidence and magnetism. That voice belonged to John. She could have died just to face him, to question him, to prove his innocence. She knew john’s voice and silhouette even in her dreams. She hit the play button as it ended, praying she had heard wrong. Perhaps the persistent echo of John’s voice in her mind had finally shaped her perception, decisions and emotions, haunting her consciousness and creating a feeling as though he were there. That was it, it had to be. she played the video one more time fighting his inescapable presence. If she could just play it yet another time, and another, it would sound different. She was sure of it. Mark closed her hands in his, taking the phone away and pulling her in for an embrace. ‘I’m sorry he wasn’t the man you thought he was,’ he rubbed her back slowly. ‘I am also hurt, Sarah,’ he added softly. Sarah looked up at Mark with trails of sorrow staining her cheeks, and he swept a tear with his right thumb. They stood there searching each others eyes for comfort and a shared understanding. Sarah took Mark in, she saw something in his sea blue eyes she

hadn’t expected, an unspoken affection, like it broke him to share such painful news with her. Mark leaned in brushing her lips softly with his. It wasn’t planned nor was it about passion or desire. Sarah felt she needed something tender in the midst of pain, an escape from her cruel reality, a moment of peace in the chaos of her world.

A faint thud echoed in the living room and Sarah pulled away looking in the direction of the open plan kitchen. She rubbed her chest looking back at Mark and caught a hint of tension in his eyes. Neither spoke, but they didn’t need to. The sound was perfectly timed considering what would have been born from their shared grief and the comfort of human connection. Sarah motioned for Mark to leave but he pulled her in closer. ‘If you notice anything unusual, give me a call,’ he said, faintly touching her lips with his and taking in the room once more. Sarah wasn’t sure what to make of that last statement so she brushed it nervously along with some stray strands.

Sarah shut the door, leaned against it releasing heavy sighs. Mark’s words and John’s voice suddenly hit like waves crashing over her. John was involved in sex and organ trafficking, rape and forced adoption. He was behind an operation rearing children to be sold for adoption, and when the mothers could no longer bear children, the extraction of their organs. Nausea hit hard and fast and she sprinted for the door. The knot in her stomach felt heavy as she reached the toilet throwing her head forward and dropping her knees just in time. Her body convulsed fighting to reject the words she had heard, seeking relief from the turmoil brewing inside.

She shut her eyes splashing cool water in her face and opened them to search the mirror for an escape. Had she been living a lie and bearing the name of a monster? She lowered her head and tears made ripples on her vanity. Something moved and very quickly, there was someone in her home. She caught the shape of a man in the mirror. He clasped her mouth holding her screams in his hand and her body firmly against his. She shut her eyes in fear. He spun her around beckoning for her to remain silent.

‘Shh! Do not say a word please, everything he said in there was a lie. He’s trying to sell you a lie, Sarah,’ Sarah wriggled her body and opened her eyes in response to that familiar voice. John stared back at her. Disbelief! Sarah struggled to process the overwhelming emotions that flooded through her. Her muscles relaxed, her eyes slowly shut as she fell towards the ground and into his arms.

She opened her eyes to see her husbands face, concern, love and traces of hurt in his eyes. She was torn by the conviction that he was a good man, the reality of the voice she clearly heard in the video, and then it hit her - he’d witnessed the kiss. She steadied herself as footsteps approached. ‘Are you okay Sarah,’ she heard Mark call out. She was sure she locked the door but there was no time for rationale. Mark knocked at the bathroom door and Sarah looked at John. He placed his index finger vertically against his lips signaling that she be quiet. ‘Please, don’t say a word,’ he mouthed to her, those piercing green eyes with marks of flames stared into her soul. ‘Everything okay in there,’ Mark called out once more. ‘I’m coming in,’ he informed her. Sarah looked at John once more. In that moment, she would have to trust in the character of the man she had come to love and not breath a word. ‘I’m coming out,’ she said to Mark and opened the door. Mark brushed her arms frantically, ‘I just got news that John is alive. Look, he is dangerous. If he reaches out to you, let me know,’ he said to her. ‘What?’ Sarah drew in a sharp breath, as if surprised and desperately hoped her eyes didn’t betray her. She moved towards the disguise of the softly lit living room and showed Mark the door. ‘Please leave, this is all too much, I need to be alone,’ she said. She turned the lock on the door and wondered if she was closing herself in with the enemy.

Sarah turned around staring into the dimly lit room. John had followed her and was once again beckoning her to be silent as he quietly searched the room. Sarah walked towards John demanding an explanation with her eyes, she looked him straight in his, and the auburn flames shone brighter than the green. Her heart beat faster as she didn’t fully recognise him. Who was this man, and who was telling the truth? Shhh, he gestured to her pointing to the chair. He made quick but gentle swivel movements against the sofa and Sarah sat. John inched closer to her and she flinched in fear.

Her response hurt him, but there was too much at stake now for him to let the pain stop him. He swallowed hard, bent his knees, and gently brought it up to her face. Shh, he gestured pointing to her shoe heel as she clasped her hands over her mouth. She had seen enough movies to know what was happening — she was being tracked. Was she being recorded too? But who could she trust? The man she had loved for five years, who had been her rock and whose name she still carried? Or the soldier who had been by her side these past two months, representing the U.S. military, yet who had entered her home without a sound, despite the locks she was sure she’d secured? Who had planted the tracking device? Were there any more? The questions came in a surge, her pulse quickening with each one. She looked at John, and instinctively, she felt safe with him. Just then, a sharp knock sounded at the door. They exchanged a look, knowing exactly who was waiting behind it.