Page 6 of Merciless

The day had been a long and arduous one, but the ceremony was coming to a close, my mother lowered into her resting place.

I’d ignored my father since I turned my back on him and had no intention of acknowledging his existence. I had bulldozed past disappointment and straight into resentment.

I missed the numbness, the sense of nothingness. He’s even managed to steal that, the selfish prick.

My thoughts and emotions worked overtime as the most recent revelations literally rewired my brain. I was trying to correlate the loving father I knew with the cowardly man standing in his place.

Despite knowing him all my life, William had become someone I did not recognise. A stranger, a nobody, an insignificant entity now banished to the periphery of my existence. Although he physically stood beside me, a gaping chasm was all that remained in the space between us.

I didn’t care how it looked when he silently sobbed alone. I didn’t care how his body shook with uncontrollable tremors. I didn’t care how he begged for a hug, a touch, a kind word—anything. I didn’t care.

Knowing his pleas were futile, William soon departed like the rest, the temperature cooling with the rising of the moon.

I stared at my mother’s gravestone, my vision catching on her name and the inscription.

Bethany Richards

Beloved Wife & Mother

It was simple and cute, everything she would have requested. Except I wanted to scrub off her last name and marital status. They belonged to William, and were now null and void in my eyes.

I was so in my head that I didn’t notice someone approaching until a subtle warmth seeped into my side. That’s when I clocked the scent; a hint of jasmine coated the air.

“I’m sorry I missed the service. I heard it was beautiful.”

You’re beautiful, I thought, my gaze catching on Charlotte’s unblemished skin. She had come straight from work, as shown by her wrinkled scrubs and the loose plait of light brown hair.

Despite experiencing one of the worst days ever, something seemed to settle inside me. Barely there, but present all the same, and for the first time since my mother’s death, I felt safe… Because of Charlotte.

“You didn’t have to come,” I said. But I’m glad you did.

“You hear that, Beth? I just got here, and your son wants to get rid of me already.” She clucked. “As if I could resist coming to see my favourite patient.”

If she were anyone else, I would have called bullshit. But over those final weeks, I had gotten to know Charlotte. She was genuine, a true carer, and Mum absolutely adored her—which she never let me forget.

A recent memory took over. One of the last times I’d heard Mum truly laugh.

“I’m going to match you up with my nurse, son. She’s beautiful, smart and—”

“Let me guess,” I drawled. “She’s old?”

I’d clocked the staff who worked on the palliative ward. All a bunch of old-timers who were pushing retirement.

“Colt, don’t be rude.”

“Is it rude if it’s the truth?” Her expression soured, unimpressed with my sound reasoning. I smirked. “Fine. Just answer this one question. Is she older than me?”

Mum pursed her lips. “Technically…”

“What does that mean?” I asked, not able to hold in my chuckle. “Give it to me straight, Mum. Is she older than twenty?”

“Now, son, age is nothing but a number…”

I groaned, rolling my eyes. “Yeah, keep saying that. Until I shake her elderly hand and catch Alzheimer’s.”

“Colt!”

Oh, hell. Here we go. But just as I was about to respond, a light knock sounded from the doorway. “I’ve got your lunchtime medications here, Beth.”