BREAKDOWN
—Chapter XVIII—
The sight in front of me was horrifying. There she was, the woman I loved, kneeling on the floor… those beautiful hands covered with blood.
"No! I did it. Don't come any closer" Beth cried. She was paled face bathed in her many freckles, dark circles around her eyes, her reddish hair falling loosely, like fire, down her back.
But then, there was Betty, motionless on the floor, her hair carefully combed and held tightly by a golden pin. She wore a beautiful red dress. She was looking so pretty I would have sworn she was just sleeping. But she was wearing my jacket, the jacket that I lost one night and it was stained with blood, her own blood.
Beth looked back at her. She saw me looking at her.
"I'm sorry" she whispered in delirium, throwing the knife to the floor. "I'm so sorry. You—you loved her."
I stood frozen an instant, without a single clue of what to do, my mind going through tons of unanswered questions. 'Beth was… Beth had been the killer all this time. She'd lied to me. She'd used me.'
And still—
"No!" I yelled and cursed aloud in despair.
And still, I wanted to protect her.
"I've ruined everything" she said, tears falling down her clear eyes. Just like the first time I met her. But these tears weren't for Matt or her past. They were for me, for us, for what she was losing. "Everything..."
My phone rang in my pocket. I took it half dreaming still looking at Beth in disbelief. Marc's overexcited voice traveled through my numbed mind.
"I figured out everything, Gio. It's Elizabeth" he said, shooting a dozen words per second. "She was pregnant with Matt when she was younger. They killed the baby and she wants revenge. She was always my suspect from the start! Never believed a word she said. I knew it! Always trying to outsmart everyone, the bastard! Don't go anywhere near her, you hear me? I'll get Amanda. We must join as soon—"
My voice turned into an iceberg when I spoke.
"I'm busy, Marc. Call me later."
"But—"
I hanged up and placed the phone back inside my pocket.
One of Betty's arms twitched and Beth gasped, probably realizing what she had done. She turned Betty around and pressed her hands against Betty's stomach, trying to stop the bleeding.
"She's alive" I said but did nothing. I stood there watching the scene as if I wasn't living it.
Then I recalled the nightmares. And I remembered living that moment many times before. Then I understood. I didn't care for Betty. I didn't care she was the victim. I didn't care for that woman lying on the floor, all bloody, almost dying. I didn't even care her name was Betty Suarez, a human being, my friend, the woman I used to love.
My heart grew cold and heavy, like stone.
Pietro. The police was coming any minute.
"She's alive" I repeated, noticing my favorite butcher's knife lying carelessly on the floor, near my feet, tempting me. I also knew Matt Hartley's gun was locked in the drawer of my desk. What to do? Which was quicker? Which was best?
Even to this day I still wonder how all my moral precepts, which I always believed were solid and profound, shattered at once inside me. At that moment, standing perplexed like that, trying to decide what was going to be my next move, I realized I didn't mind becoming a murderer for her.
I didn't care for punishment or death or the meaning of right or wrong. All I could think was that Betty would testify against Beth. She was the enemy and must be put into silence.
A primeval instinct of survival.
"No! No! You're not a killer!" Beth yelled in horror looking up through my eyes, guessing my thoughts "Call 911!"
She kept speaking to me but my ears were shut.
In a second, I studied all the ways I could think of how to clean the place. My mind raced blasted by million murderous thoughts pouring inside of me at once. How to hide her body? How to disappear the weapon? How to fool the police? I wanted to be her accomplice. I wanted to save her.
"She'll die if you don't call now" she yelled and took me out of my reverie. "Gio!"
"Gio!" Maurizo appeared at the backroom door. He was standing tall, all sweaty and distressed. He jumped back at the scene in front of his eyes "What the hell—"
He stood there, looking back at us in shock.
"Ambulance!" Beth ordered him "Call an ambulance. Now!"
Maurizo put both his hands on his head, yelled something in Italian and ran towards the phone while I stood there unable to know what to say or do.
The ambulance and the police came quicker than I would have wished for. The paramedics carried Betty away. She was going to live.
Beth hugged me desperately and I held her into the ephemeral safety my arms. Her guilty, bloody hands stained my clothes as she clang to me, devouring every moment that could be our last.
She kept crying, the woman that rarely cried, kept apologizing against my shoulders.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry" she repeated.
I was sorry too. I was sorry it was over; sorry that I found her there; sorry I couldn't find about it sooner; sorry I couldn't help her. It'd been so surreal. My heart pains me every time I remember those minutes I almost turned into a murderer.
"At least you're safe" she whispered quietly right before the police pulled her out of our embrace.
"You're not alone" I managed to say to her before she was taken from me. "You still have me."
I walked to my friend Pietro and agreed to make a declaration.
Everything will be explained on the epilogue
…hopefully
