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Chapter Seven.

My Saving Grace.

Christian.

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The drive home from the Cascades, is automatic and somber. I'm thankful for the mundane hours that have passed, alone behind the wheel. It's given me a chance to clear my head. The opportunity to reinforce my conviction for letting all this go. The time to convince myself that I can, in fact, move on. The determination to...

Oh, fuck, who am I trying to persuade? It certainly isn't myself. If I haven't been able to let her go, after Ten, tormented years, how will laying some flowers in the place where it happened, finally set me free?

It won't. It can't.

I can already feel her spirit, her essence, her very being, following me home.

I have to try, though. For my own fucking sanity, I really do have to try.

I push my R8 forward, and before I know it, I've reached Escala, parked my car, and am stood, frozen, staring at my reflection in the mirrored doors of the elevator as it ascends. To look at me, you wouldn't think that I was a murderer. A killer. You wouldn't think that I'd aided in my father's death and stolen the life of a child. But I have.

As the doors open and my reflection vanishes, my posture firmly squares. I step into my penthouse, surprised, then pissed, to see my mother, sitting at the breakfast bar. She's drinking coffee, chatting with Gail, who's busying herself in the kitchen.

My mother, isn't what I need after a day like today. The past few hours have drained me, and what I really need is a hefty scotch and a shower. My mother, is way down on the list of things I wish to deal with right now. Especially today. There's only so much guilt I can carry on my tarnished shoulders, on a day this poignant.

Gail, bids my mother farewell, and excuses herself as soon as I enter the kitchen. She reads my annoyance, and mental fatigue instantly and scarpers. I wish my mother would follow suit.

"Where have you been?" my mother chastises me as I head over towards her. "Did you forget about today?" she asks, offering me her cheek for a chaste kiss.

As my lips leave her warm cheek, I slump down onto the seat next to her, nodding in confirmation, because truthfully, I did forget. I forgot, genuinely, that I supposed to be visiting the cemetery with her and my siblings, today. Ana took precedent and over shadowed everything.

"Sorry." I mutter, unsure of what else to say to her, but feeling truly remorseful.

"What, was so important that you forgot about your family?" she scolds me, but I notice her tone has softened.

I stare at her, unsure of what to say. Do I tell her the truth about where I've been and what I did today? Or do I brush her off with the usual, I was busy at the office? At this point, does it really matter.

"I drove up to the crash site." I confess honestly, despite, knowing what her reaction will be.

I see it clearly, her pain, anguish, concern, then annoyance. I feel it too, but more so, because I caused it. For her, and myself.

"Oh, son, you need to stop doing this to yourself." she says softly, looking up at me with heartbreak all over her.

"I know." I respond, automatically.

Of course, I'm lying, to her, and myself, because it's never going to happen. Despite, what I did today and no matter how hard I try to think positive, or attempt to convince myself, it's ingrained in me. She, is ingrained in me. My mother's pain is also etched, deep within me.

"Your Father, he would never have wanted you to live like this, Christian. Feeling so guilty, being so closed off, and burying yourself entirely in work. You deserve more than that." my mom gushes, as she tries to mollify me.

"Work, is all I have." I mutter, but mom carries on as if she never heard a word.

"Ever since you turned eighteen and received your inheritance, you've not stopped trying to prove yourself. You've built your empire and exceeded every expectation, and challenge you've set yourself, but you need to be happy Christian, and you're not. You need to live. Get out of this glass box and find yourself a distraction, a girl who..."

"Mom." I interrupt her sharply, not needing to hear this again. Not today.

"Please, move on Christian... I don't blame you, no one blames you, forgive yourself... It wasn't your fault." she soothes as she takes my hand.

Her squeeze is comforting, and I try to return it with as much conviction, but I fail miserably. Forgiveness, is not something I can give myself, it's not something I've earned. My mother, may have forgiven me for taking her husband from her, but she doesn't have the power to grant forgiveness for my real crime.

"I'm trying." I tell her truthfully. "That's why I went up there. I paid my respects, left flowers and said sorry, and goodbye." my half truth sounds unconvincing, even to me.

My Mother raises an eyebrow dubiously and eyes me skeptically.

"What do you have to be sorry for, Christian? I thought John was helping you?" she says softly, obviously seeing something in my expression, and picking up on that one slip of a word.

"He is, he does." I say quickly, avoiding her first question, and it's the truth. Well, another half truth.

John, has helped me to manage the guilt I feel over the death of my father, but he could never help me with my real problem. He could never get to the true cause, or reason, behind the un-receding guilt I've carried, because, like everyone else, he doesn't know about the girl I've killed. The life I took.

How could I tell him? If I told him, then it would've meant telling everyone else, and that was never going to happen. As a child, when I first started seeing him, he was obliged to share important information with my mother. Once I turned eighteen, that rule, no longer applied, but by then, it was too late to confess.

Years, too late.

"What happened to you and your father, was an accident, Christian." my mom implores, and I can see her irritation with me, creeping into her hardening eyes.

"No, Mom, it's not.." I begin, unsure of what I'm going to share with her exactly, but feeling the need to explain.

"Yes. Yes, it was," Mom interrupts. "You have to stop doing this to yourself. There's no point in constantly berating yourself, over something you had no control over. You may have distracted your father, but you didn't know the deer would be on the road, Christian." Mom says firmly. "He, was behind the wheel, not you. It was an accident."

I know she's right, about my dad at least, but I know she would think very differently about me, about all of this, if she knew exactly what I'd done that night. I think it would destroy her if, she found out about my killing Ana, now. After all this time.

I feel drained all of a sudden and need a drink. I need my mother to leave. Her constant, understanding, sympathy and compassion are head wreaking. After the day I've had, and hopelessness I feel, I really need and want, to be alone.

Mom, can clearly see it, the second my demeanor changes.

"What are you up to this evening?" she asks me, changing the subject and gathering her things. "Come home with me, we can have dinner together." she suggests, with a hopeful smile.

I shake my head firmly. "I'm fine, Mom, I'm going to the beach house as soon as I'm finished up here. Tess, needs me." I tell her and feel the smile growing on my lips at the mention of her name.

Mom smiles along with me. "Okay, son, I'll leave you with Tess. She's always been so good for you. You'd be lost without her, wouldn't you?" she asks softly, her eyes saddening.

"Yes, I would." I whisper, and my mood plummets further.

Losing Tess, after all this time, is one of my biggest fears. She's the only link I have to Ana. To the girl who was. Once I lose her, then what? It will be like Ana, never existed. That thought terrifies me.

I stand, a silent invitation for her to leave. She has to go.

"Come and have dinner with me, next week sometime." she suggests, a hopeful glint in her eye.

"I'll try." I reply, noncommittally. Fighting the urge to usher her to the door.

Mom stands, and accepts her dismissal gracefully. She bids me goodbye with a hug and the promise to speak again soon. The relief I feel when she's gone is instant, but I'm still reeling and restless within myself, and need to get out of here. Work can wait. Everything can wait. I need Tess.

I instruct Gail, that she and Taylor are now off the clock, to forget about preparing dinner and to pack my weekend bag, immediately. I avoid her watchful, concerned gaze as I head to my bedroom, strip, shower, then throw on jeans and a T-shirt.

I head to my office and send off a few quick emails, ignoring anything that isn't vitally important. I'm eager to leave here and start my weekend. Nothing is going to get in the way of that. Nothing at all.

Pulling up at my beach house an hour later, my entire body relaxes as I step from the car. Taking my bag from the trunk, I ignore my serene surroundings and head straight into the house. As soon as the door is closed behind me, I'm calling out for Tess.

I hear her, making her way slowly through the house from the kitchen to greet me. Her pace is picking up with excitement, but it's not quick enough. Dropping my bag, I hurry through the house to meet her. I'm eager to see her, revel in the comfort she brings, and finally breathe.

Reaching her, I drop low to pet her. "Hello girl, how you doing?" I coo softly as I rub her big, furry, grey head with both my palms.

Tess, whimpers as she nuzzles in, enjoying the contact. She's old and frail. Truthfully on her last legs, and it's going to kill me when I lose her. She's the only connection I have. The only physical reminder that Ana was real, and not just a figment of a dreadful, recurring nightmare.

Tess, grows excited as my knees hit the floor and I pull her tightly to my chest. Relishing in the feel of her warmth and familiar soft fur, I lose myself, smiling for the first time in days, with my only true friend.

My chuckles build as her tongue starts lapping at my hands and her back leg begins twitching. She lulls forward, wanting to play. He weight knocking me onto my ass. I wrap my arm around her and roll us. With her on her back I home in, on rubbing her belly.

Tess, is my one true taste of solace. She is my talisman and living proof, that I did something good that night. I may not have saved Ana, I may not have saved myself, but I've made damn sure every night since then, that her dog was always kept safe.

Safe, with me.

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A/N

Thank you all so much. x