I took a weekend to wallow in my pain - and ooh, boy was there a shit ton of painful shit I had to roll around in.
Watching Billy walk away after he - no that's not completely fair I knew he was baiting me, knew that he wanted me to push him away so he could go and do what he deemed necessary, I knew HIM - and that's the first load of a huge weight of breath stealing agony crushing me during my time off.
But that wasn't the least of it, not even close. No, there was also the reality that while I watched him walk away - to go off and do God fucking knew what - the reality of how permanent a leave taking he'd be doing far sooner than either of us expected. While this version of the man I'd fallen in love with was a dickhead, and a cheater, I couldn't imagine a world where he didn't at least exist. His death would make whatever torment I was going through now seem like a picnic.
And when he did go, for good, who would I be able to share my suffering with? Who would comfort me while I grieved?
My parents clearly felt that I was less than a prize when it came to men - if my mom had her say, I'm sure Billy's demise would be my fault. After all, she liked HIM. Yeah, sobbing on her shoulder sounded like a winning scenario.
There was Joe, but what kind of horrible bitch would whine to her ex-husband about her new lover's death - finding out in my office while we worked wasn't quite the same thing, at least not in my mind. Knowing that I failed him so fucking badly in our own marriage - listening to my parents while they filled my fucking head with stupidity and then not giving him a say, not letting him convince me to stay that was unforgivable.
Yet he was still around, or he came back around as the case may be, and I knew deep inside that he'd be here when it happened. That he would want to give me peace when I hadn't given him the same - maybe I deserved it.
Losing Billy, whether now that we were separated by infidelity and lies or later when it would be permanent and complete, maybe it was what all those people who constantly sprouted off about what you put out in the world you get back. Karma. This might be my Karma for the wrongs I've done and would probably keep doing.
Round and round the thoughts kept going - Terror checking in on me between his trips outside through the still unlocked pet door and eating. I knew that something had to break the cycle, I just didn't know that it would break in the way it did.
Hearing Terror barking like his tail was on fire had me heaving myself off the sofa and to the backdoor. Since he couldn't get to the front yard, I thought that a rabbit or some other small wild animal had managed to breach the fencing and -
"Well, hello again, Dr. Taylor," I didn't have time to wonder why all those extra precautions we'd put in place to keep this house safe had failed, didn't have a moment to spare on how he could have done it, not when that absolutely repellent smile held on his face as he glanced down at Terror making the most God awful racket a dog had ever made. "I think you should invite me in and -" his foot raised and I nearly screamed at the idea he was going to kick the bulldog, but he just started walking toward the back patio. "Let's leave the ankle biter outside, shall we?"
Fear for Terror overruled fear for myself, and so I stood back and watched as the focus of Billy's obsession walked over the threshold into the sanctity of our home, waiting for me to follow him inside and smirking as I put Terror's bowls and a few stuffies outside, with a promise to the still snarling dog that I would give him so many treats that he'd explode from the happiness of it, I locked the puppy door and turned to face the evil I'd invited in.
"You have a lovely home," Homelander offered, looking around with far more interest than I cared to decode. "Let's sit down, I think we have a few things to discuss," and then he turned and with a flick of his cape led the way to the living room.