Loved Everyone, Loved No One

At the altar, my revolver aimed at the man I once thought to love and have loved me, who imposed a deluded excitement in living a life I'd never deserve on me. In the naïve hopelessness, I let the seemingly kind, charismatic, caring man walk all over me.

It was clear: he loved everyone. He loved no one.

"You're scared," he stated calmly. "Can you live out the rest of your life in the guilt of killing me?"

"Quit flattering yourself," I sneered. "Why would I feel guilty after what you've done to me?"

"I know what you're planning," he stepped closer, and I squinted. "You want to get rid of me so you can leave the family with Lawrence Murphy."

A shiver ran down my spine. He knew. How did he know? It must've been Victoria.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," I said.

"No, dear," he clicked his tongue. It was his turn to scorn. "I think you know exactly what I'm talking about."

Was this what Thomas feared? The scandal had gotten out of the family together with Victoria. Who else wasn't supposed to know already knew? I didn't want to think about it. I couldn't think about it.

"I don't," I denied.

"There's no point in lying," he sighed and got closer. No fear was displayed in those deep eyes. If any emotion were shown, then that emotion would be described as pity. "I know about you and the youngest Murphy sibling. Two star-crossed lovers, trapped in the family, seeking a way out. What a beautiful story."

His tone was provocative. He was convinced that he could intimidate me into surrendering. It used to work on me. In the state of blunt gullibility, his words were the rules to abide by.

He was an older man. I wanted an older man.

It was easy to manipulate a fatherless child.

But not anymore. I wasn't the same. He seemed to forget what he had just said.

"That's not true," I kept a straight face. "So, instead of trying to persuade me into admitting a false accusation, why don't you beg for your life?"

"I'm the father of your son," he paused between words as if I had trouble hearing. Curling his lips, he shrugged nonchalantly. "Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"You told me that he's dead. You even made Victoria tell me the same thing, remember?" I gritted my teeth. "You offered him up to save yourself when you were supposed to protect and care for him. How dare you mention him to save yourself again?"

"Aren't you also supposed to protect and care for him?" He smacked his lips.

"You took him away from me," I struggled to get my words out. I had to stay poised, or he'd win. I couldn't let him win.

"Well, I'm sorry I lied. I thought you'd be better off believing he's dead." He shrugged as if it was nothing.

"Why did you say Thomas killed him?" I gritted my teeth.

"Why not?" He threw his hands. "Thomas Murphy wants to fuck with me. Therefore, it's only fair for me to fuck with him too."

I narrowed my eyes. This was the first time I heard him swear.

"He's safe and in good care," he went on indifferently. "Do you want to know where L…"

"Don't fucking say his name," I raised my voice uncontrollably. It was too much and had been too long since I last heard his name. I had mourned him. In my mind, he was gone. That was the only way for me to live in peace. It was reasonable not to think about him as often anymore. I told myself that I'd never been a motherly one. Though I couldn't bear the thought of hearing his name, the name that this man – who brought all the suffering upon him – had given him, for it was the final seal on the pain I forcefully stowed away and couldn't handle it being brought to light again.

Neil said he was well. It could be a lie. Again. But this time, I wished it was a lie. Accepting that he was gone was more manageable than knowing he was out there somewhere and resisting the urge to seek after him. He was better off without me.

"Louis," he didn't listen and said that name. Carefully, he examined the change in my expression like it was an art piece. He was winning, and he knew it. "He's seven now and a jolly child. I have a recent photograph of him inside my locket. Would you like to see it?"

"No," I said abruptly and firmly as he reached for his pocket. Pretending was no longer a craft I believed I mastered as my voice began to crack. "I don't know if you are lying. Even if you aren't, it's best if I stay out of his life."

"So you can go on with Lawrence Murphy while acting like he's dead?" He scoffed. "You see, when he asks for his mommy, I'd tell him that mommy will come back to us one day, and all he needs to do is to be a little more patient. It'd be such a shame if, after today, his nanny has to tell him that mommy not only chose to abandon him but also killed daddy."

I heard De Rossi let out a loud, sneering laugh. I didn't turn my head.

"Stop lying," I said, attempting to persuade myself into believing my words. "He's gone, isn't he? You're only saying such a thing to save your own life."

"Perhaps," he grabbed the gun barrel and pointed it against his forehead. "What will it be? Annie, if I died, you'll never know the truth for certain."