"Ms. Williams, you may not remember me-"
"My, what a charming way of putting it. Richard Jones the third, the man who murdered my parents. I can't imagine that insulting my intelligence is the only reason you came here tonight." Sarah was still too shocked for the anger to settle in, but it was getting there pretty quickly.
"Maybe this was a bad idea," he began, looking like a kicked puppy, "but I've been putting this off for too long already."
The fact that he was essentially cowering before her did not go unnoticed by Sarah. This was a man who oversaw hundreds of people, telling them where to go and what to do. He made more money in a year than she would see in a lifetime and he probably hadn't cowered before anyone in a long time. Fortunately, Sarah thought, I've had some experience with proud men.
As it was, her righteous anger did not put him off entirely. He still met her eyes and told her, "I came here to apologize."
That was it. Sarah was amazed at the simplicity of it. And what sort of garnish can you put on an apology anyway? He already sent her money she would never accept. Somehow, though, hearing the words from his mouth as he stood under her porch light ignoring the moths as they fluttered around his head just felt like more salt in the wound.
Sarah took a moment to collect herself and then very quietly said, "Mr. Jones, there is nothing, and I mean nothing, you could say or do that can fix the damage you've done. I don't want anything from you, not your money and certainly not your apologies. If you come here again, if you approach me on the street, if I have to see you again for any reason other than pure chance, I'm getting a restraining order. Is that clear?"
He bowed his head, nodding as if he were already prepared for her answer. She took a moment while he was avoiding eye contact to look him over. He was wearing a dark gray suit with a red power tie, just like he had in court, but he didn't carry it with the same determination he had six months ago. His hair was still impeccably combed without a hair out of place, but it was skewed somehow, as if he couldn't part it quite evenly down the center anymore. She supposed it worked as a mask of calm for the majority of the people he saw throughout the day, but it smelled slightly of desperation. It was when he looked up at her again that she noticed the real change. His eyes carried dark rings under them, accentuated by the harsh light glaring from above his head. She had seen the same rings under her own eyes for the first four months after the accident. It seems she wasn't the only one who had suffered from insomnia lately.
"Ms. Williams, I just have this to say and then I'll never bother you again. I want you to know that what I did to you and your brother haunts me. I haven't had a drink since the night it happened. I haven't slept more than two hours a night ever since. I realize this is no less than I deserve, and if this is the road to redemption then I will walk it gladly. That said, thank you for your time and I'm sorry to have disturbed you. I'm sorry for everything." Without another word he walked off towards his car, parked in front of the house. It was eerie, watching him slip outside of the circle of light afforded on the front porch. It was as if his body was slowly embraced by shadows, pulled out into the starless night. Sarah realized for the first time that this was what damnation looked like. Richard Jones wore the stooped features of a man already in hell.
"My, what a charming way of putting it. Richard Jones the third, the man who murdered my parents. I can't imagine that insulting my intelligence is the only reason you came here tonight." Sarah was still too shocked for the anger to settle in, but it was getting there pretty quickly.
"Maybe this was a bad idea," he began, looking like a kicked puppy, "but I've been putting this off for too long already."
The fact that he was essentially cowering before her did not go unnoticed by Sarah. This was a man who oversaw hundreds of people, telling them where to go and what to do. He made more money in a year than she would see in a lifetime and he probably hadn't cowered before anyone in a long time. Fortunately, Sarah thought, I've had some experience with proud men.
As it was, her righteous anger did not put him off entirely. He still met her eyes and told her, "I came here to apologize."
That was it. Sarah was amazed at the simplicity of it. And what sort of garnish can you put on an apology anyway? He already sent her money she would never accept. Somehow, though, hearing the words from his mouth as he stood under her porch light ignoring the moths as they fluttered around his head just felt like more salt in the wound.
Sarah took a moment to collect herself and then very quietly said, "Mr. Jones, there is nothing, and I mean nothing, you could say or do that can fix the damage you've done. I don't want anything from you, not your money and certainly not your apologies. If you come here again, if you approach me on the street, if I have to see you again for any reason other than pure chance, I'm getting a restraining order. Is that clear?"
He bowed his head, nodding as if he were already prepared for her answer. She took a moment while he was avoiding eye contact to look him over. He was wearing a dark gray suit with a red power tie, just like he had in court, but he didn't carry it with the same determination he had six months ago. His hair was still impeccably combed without a hair out of place, but it was skewed somehow, as if he couldn't part it quite evenly down the center anymore. She supposed it worked as a mask of calm for the majority of the people he saw throughout the day, but it smelled slightly of desperation. It was when he looked up at her again that she noticed the real change. His eyes carried dark rings under them, accentuated by the harsh light glaring from above his head. She had seen the same rings under her own eyes for the first four months after the accident. It seems she wasn't the only one who had suffered from insomnia lately.
"Ms. Williams, I just have this to say and then I'll never bother you again. I want you to know that what I did to you and your brother haunts me. I haven't had a drink since the night it happened. I haven't slept more than two hours a night ever since. I realize this is no less than I deserve, and if this is the road to redemption then I will walk it gladly. That said, thank you for your time and I'm sorry to have disturbed you. I'm sorry for everything." Without another word he walked off towards his car, parked in front of the house. It was eerie, watching him slip outside of the circle of light afforded on the front porch. It was as if his body was slowly embraced by shadows, pulled out into the starless night. Sarah realized for the first time that this was what damnation looked like. Richard Jones wore the stooped features of a man already in hell.
