Nothing was changing. My job was still stressful beyond belief. I thought I could control my anger. I thought the anger management classes had helped. I thought I could start to see Craig again and rebuild our relationship. I was wrong. Nothing had changed. Deep set patterns would take more than a school year to fix. Maybe a lifetime.
When I saw Craig again I felt the anger start to slip. The drink on the table without a coaster. It was a little thing, I knew that. But that would leave a ring on the table and how many times had I told him? How many times? Too many to count. I could feel the anger start to slip, like a car going fast in the rain on a tight turn. Soon there is no control.
And he's late to dinner, the dinner I wanted to tell him about the trip to Europe. It was time for him to come home. But I see that look on his face. That stubborn look just like when he came to pick up his stuff and he was looking down at me from the top of the stairs. I see the symbolism. He's above me. Morally, emotionally, however else. And maybe he is. Because he is and was right. I beat him. Not slaps or spanks or normal sort of punishment but beat. Kicking and punching and strapping and I know that that is unacceptable. That is why I allowed him to go to Joey's without a fight. I could have fought. I have a lot of money and money can buy excellent legal counsel. I could have got it so that Joey would never have been allowed to see him. But I didn't do that. I wanted what was best for my son. I still want that.
At that dinner I felt the anger rise, just like it always did. Nothing would feel better than punching him. Craig, my son, the person I love most in all the world. I wanted to hurt him because he just infuriated me. I clenched my hands into fists and stormed out of that restaurant. I couldn't be around him. The anger management classes said if you feel the anger getting out of control then leave. Leave until you've calmed down. So I left. But he followed me. He said it wasn't fair, and I heard that whining in his voice and I just couldn't help myself.
"Are you talking to me or are you talking to Joey?" Walking fast, being sarcastic to him, hurting him. I knew I was. I just couldn't help it.
He kept it up, kept at me. I had tried to leave.
"You'll settle for some little goth girl and someday you'll take over the car lot," I said, and he shoved me.
"Don't talk about Ashley like that!" His face twisted in anger. I turned around and hit him so hard he fell to the ground and then I knew. I knew it wasn't ever going to change even before he screamed that at me, and I told him he always screws up but I didn't mean that. It was me. I was projecting my behavior and actions onto him.
"It won't change," he said, his palms hitting the window of my car, "ever!"
I squealed away. That would be the last I'd ever see him. The last I'd ever see my son. His angry tear stained face, bleeding because I hit him and cut him with my ring. It was what would be best for him.
I drove fast, weaving in and out of traffic, daring some cop to pull me over. I took the ring off of my finger and tossed it out the window, saw it bouncing and rolling on the road between the cars. I hated myself. I felt such a deep loathing for myself that it was barely credible. It would be best for Craig to just live with Joey. To not have the complication of me. To live with Joey and Angela and to start to heal from the trauma I'd put him through. That would be the last thing I could do for him and I intended to do it. I was going to disappear.
I drove, slowing down, the plan forming in my mind. I was out on deserted roads now, no traffic, barely any street lights. If I crashed the car just a certain way it would catch fire, and all evidence of who was or wasn't inside would burn away. Then Craig would be free of me.
There was a jersey barrier ahead, and I tied the heavy book to the accelerator and dropped the car into drive. It ran full speed into the barrier and burst into flames. I watched it for awhile, imagining how the orange flickery glow was playing across my features. Then I slowly walked away.