Page 10 of His Relentless Angel

I stop in the doorway and drop my duffel bag with the dirty laundry I bring home every weekend on the floor. I almost drop my garment bag with the new dress I’ve been painstakingly hand embroidering for a class project, and I at least remember to lay it down gently.

“Daddy?” I feel faint when he stands and slowly approaches with a white envelope in his hands. He hugs me hard against his large chest, and I lose the battle with the tears that have been burning the backs of my eyes all day, fear of the unknown sending my heart racing.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he says with glassy eyes. “It’s for the best.” He slips the envelope into my limp hand, then returns to his recliner, watching me without blinking as I rip the envelope open, trying to delude myself into thinking it’s a belated birthday card from Isaiah and not what I know it is…a folded sheet of lined paper.

Bailey,

For years, I’ve done my best to keep my distance, but it clearly wasn’t enough. What happened last weekend was the final nail in the coffin. I hate that what I’m about to write will likely hurt your feelings. I don’t want that, but it’s necessary since I know you won’t stop after the sickening mistake I made that night, which I deeply regret.

“No, no, no. Please, god, no,” I cry, Isaiah’s black handwriting blurring as tears fill my vision. I quickly swipe them away to finish the letter that might very well kill me.

By the time you come home for the weekend, I’ll have already moved away and put my condo up for sale. I’ve given everyone strict instructions not to tell you where I am. I can no longer bear your disturbing, singular focus. Please, do you and me the favor of giving up on us being together before it continues to ruin your life and mine.

Isaiah

In the blink of an eye, I’m on the floor, my knees having gone weak beneath me. I can’t stuff my heartbreak deep down in my belly and pretend that he hasn’t once again ripped my soul out like I always do when I’m around my family. I clutch my bumblebee pendant, drop my forehead to the hard floor, and scream my heartbreak until my throat is aching and raw.

Daddy lifts me off the floor and cradles me as he did when I was a child. “Oh, Bailey. Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he whispers as he holds me sideways, curled on his lap within his big, bear arms. He even rocks me on the recliner like he used to.

Mom stands at our sides and smooths my hair back, combing her fingers through it as she used to when I was small. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she says over and over again with sympathy in her voice. “It’s for the best.” Mom kisses my temple, echoing all the people who seem to think I’m a ridiculous child who doesn’t know what is best for me and my life.

I hate it. I hate everyone who has ever scolded, teased, or lectured me about my love like I’m stupid. I hate everyone who has made me cry as much as Isaiah has. I can’t bear to be in their presence any more than Isaiah can bear to be in mine. I twist off Daddy’s lap and dart around Mom without looking at either of them.

Fumbling for my phone, I pull up Isaiah’s contact and tap on it. “Pick up, pick up, pick up,” I mumble as the phone continues to ring. As soon as it goes to voicemail, I hang up and redial, pacing back and forth.

“Bailey.” Daddy reaches for me, and I dance away.

When it goes to voicemail, I beg Isaiah, “Please, please don’t do this! I love you. Call me back. Please!” I break off into a sob and redial.

“Bailey!” Daddy holds me by my upper arms and ducks to look me in the eye. “He’s not going to answer, sweetheart.”

“He has to! He loves me.”

“No, honey,” Mom says, rubbing my back and looking at me pitifully. “He doesn’t love you. Not the way you want him to.” She says it so, so softly, and it’s so extraordinarily painful that I clutch my belly as if she’s driven a spear right through the middle of me.

I can’t take it anymore. I grab my bags and run across the lawn to my car parked at the curb. I shove my bags in the back seat before rounding the hood to the driver’s side.

“Bailey, don’t go,” Mom cries, chasing after me.

“It’s not safe for you to drive like this,” Daddy says, yanking on the back door handle to grab my bags, but I’d slammed the manual lock down before closing it. “Please, sweetheart. Unlock the door.”

I don’t stop or look at either of my parents as I wrench the driver’s side door open and throw my phone in the passenger seat, having redialed for the fourth time.

Shayla suddenly pulls me into her hold from behind with her arms around my shoulders. “Bailey.” She says my name with downright grief in her voice. She must have been waiting at her window, watching for me.

“Leave me alone,” I say thickly without looking at her either. It doesn’t matter how much I love her and will miss her and my niece and nephews. I can’t bear her either, not when she’s living the life I want and will never have.

I maneuver out of her hold, careful not to unbalance her since I don’t want her to fall, and I drop into my seat, jamming the manual lock down. My parents and Shayla beg me to open my door, but I refuse. They finally step back when I turn my car on.

I rip my bumblebee necklace off, burning the back of my neck and breaking the clasp, unable to stuff anything down or think positively when the phone goes unanswered again. Without once letting my eyes drift to my rear view mirror, I drive away. As soon as I hit the highway, I throw my broken necklace out of the window.

I have no idea when I’ll be back.

Chapter 6

Bailey - 21 years old

Leaving all the kids at Martin and Eden’s house for the weekend, including Brady, who wanted to stay behind, we travel as a family to Austin to watch Autumn cross the stage after graduating from the University of Texas. She’s even smarter than the rest of us, having taken so many advanced classes in high school and testing out of the required basic undergrad courses that she entered college two years ahead as a Junior instead of a Freshman.

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