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‘You know what it’s like to love someone so much. Someone you shouldn’t love. You don’t want to love them, but you do. No matter how hard it is.’ Tom shook his head, maintaining the track up and down the carpet. ‘You’d do anything for her.’
He stopped and looked at Alex again. ‘Wouldn’t you?’
‘Yes.’
Tom’s eyes were glassy. ‘It feels like agony. Every day, not knowing if you’re doing the right thing. Wondering if people will find out.’ He stepped in closer, brandished it at Alex as he spoke. ‘But let me tell you, that’s nothing.’
He wielded it away now as he tried to make his point, and Sarah tried not to flinch as the gun moved in and out of her face. The proximity of the gun was turning her insides to liquid again.
‘That’s not agony.’ Spittle was flying from his mouth. ‘The real agony is when she’s dead. And there’s no one whose shoulder you can cry on. No one knows and no one cares. Then you know real agony.’
The pacing started again.
‘You know it was worth it and you want to go back and change a million little things. Make him listen. But you can’t. It’s too late.’
Watching the torment, Sarah almost felt sorry for him. Tom was nothing more than a shattered shell of a man, far beyond anyone’s reach. It wasn’t going to be enough to kill her; he seemed intent on spelling out to Alex what his life was about to become. The agony of losing the love of his life. That life was hers.
Guttural noises escaped from Tom. He banged the handle of the gun against his temple, the other hand squeezing his forehead. ‘It’s too late,’ he moaned.
‘Too late for what, Tom?’ Her voice trembled, but she had to try and reach him.
Alex tugged her hand, as if warning her to stop.
Tom’s breath came in jagged bursts, as though he’d run a marathon. After a moment, he appeared more in control. He stood, eyeing them warily.
‘Do you love her?’
Alex waited for a beat. ‘Yes.’
Tom tilted his head to the side, taking Alex’s measure. It was as though she didn’t exist. He couldn’t see or hear her. Maybe that’s what he needed to do, to make it easier on himself. Pretend she was already dead.
‘Would you die for her?’
‘Yes.’
He covered the distance between them with lightning speed. One hand cruelly entwined in her hair, holding her upright as her legs all but gave out beneath her. The gun jammed against her cheek. But still, Tom didn’t see her. His eyes never leaving Alex’s. Tears spilled from her eyes, parting at the point the gun pressed into her flesh.
‘I said, would you die for her?’ Tom screamed.
‘Yes.’ He growled through gritted teeth.
‘It’s easy to say.’ His hand twisted tighter in her hair, eliciting a cry of pain. ‘When the gun is pointed at her.’
Tom’s stale breath blew hard in her face. Her heart pounded mercilessly against her chest in harmony with her hair being wrenched from her scalp and the gun forcing her jaw into an unnatural position, short-circuiting her thoughts.
The wall behind her hit her like a cement truck. She hadn’t been aware of Tom shoving her until her head bounced off the plaster. She brought her hands up in protection, afraid to cause more pain and desperate to prevent anymore. Bile rose in her throat. She thought she heard someone shout her name but couldn’t latch onto anything above the ringing in her skull.
She had her back against the wall, still upright. They were arguing right next to her.
Sarah tried to call out to Alex, but nothing came out. She opened her eyes, letting the wall hold her up. Tom and Alex stood a meter from her, the gun pointed straight at Alex. He stood, facing his manic captor. He turned to her, he looked composed. Resigned… free.
She kept her eyes locked on his. Her internal war quietened. At that moment she heard and felt nothing. Only Alex. An invisible thread bonding them together.
The blast of the gun ripped through the air. Her eyes stayed with his, suspended in the moment, together. Holding on as long as they could.
Her gaze dropped to the floor. Blood was pooling around the body. Alex was still standing. It wasn’t him. Somehow, they were both alive.
And Tom was not.
