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How do you honor your greatest hero?

Written by: Kaadorix

M/F, F/F and a whole lot more

Chapter 05: "Dad"

How do you honor your hero?

The person you have looked up to for your entire life?

Your Example. Your Rock. Your Stay.

Dad lived a clean, respectable life. He worked hard at his
job, never took anything for granted, and had high morals.

He loved his country and served bravely in the Vietnam War.

Dad was an expert outdoorsman. He could build anything with
his hands, and he could make anyone laugh.

And despite our differences and the bitter standoff we had
over my three-way marriage and the life I led with Alexa and
Merissa, and even our kids, Dad was still my idol, my standard.
No amount of mutual hostility or anger could ever change that.

And I will miss him more than words could ever say.

William Richard [Last Name]
August 30, 1938 - April 21, 2017


-*- Thursday, April 27, 2017 -*-
-*- Valley Falls, Kansas -*-

I stood at the podium in the funeral home with about 150
friends and family members present, dressed in a dark suit,
singing a variation of an old symphony number from 1893 with
help from my oldest brother, Hudson, and a microphone nearby.
I was not much of a singer, in my opinion, but we wanted to
get in front of everyone and pay tribute to Dad one final
time during his memorial service.

...It's not far, yes close by
Through an open door
Work all done, care laid by
Going to fear no more

_Goin' Home_, a spiritual melody, was initially performed
by Czech musician Antonín Dvorák in 1893 and then adapted by
William Arms Fisher, who wrote the lyrics, in 1922. I stood
cool, calm and collected, my voice never wavering, as I sung
with my brother for the somber, forlorn audience. Yet, my
insides were in chaos. I never thought this day would come.

This past Saturday, I received a telephone call from Hudson,
my 54-year-old brother, who informed me that Dad had suddenly
passed away at his home in Pleasant Grove the night prior from
an apparent stroke. Official word would soon come down that
indeed, Dad suffered a thrombotic stroke. A large blood clot
had migrated into one of the main blood vessels of his brain.
He was 78 years of age, and will forever be missed.

I remember walking downstairs on Saturday morning, to the
kitchen, after learning of my father's death moments earlier.
Merissa was whipping up a nice and hearty breakfast for
Cooper and Madison, and planned on bringing a portion to me
in bed since I had slept in uncharacteristically late. As
usual, Merissa was chipper and lively, interacting with the
two precocious toddlers in her own special, motherly way.

But Merissa sensed that something was wrong with me right
away. Perhaps it was my dull, listless demeanor? I pulled
her into a side room, away from the kids.

"Dad... he's dead. He died from a stroke last night."

Merissa stared at me, slack-jawed, and soon brought a hand
to her mouth as the tears began to flow. She stumbled over
her own two feet trying to embrace me. Merissa barely knew my
father (or my mother, for that matter) because both of them
had basically disowned me as their son in 2014 when they
learned that Alexa and I were both going to marry Merissa,
and make it a three-way marriage. My parents simply did not
understand that concept. They did not WANT to understand it.
And they let me know by building a near impenetrable wall
between us that continues to stand tall and imposing to this
very day. I had not even spoken to Dad because of his utter
disdain for me and the unique life I led, despite the fact he
lived a mere 35 miles away, in almost two-and-a-half years.

Still, he was my dad. I loved him no matter what.

Merissa shrieked and wailed out in abject horror holding
me. She knew all too well what it was like to lose her father
in such an unexpected and shocking manner. Merissa's own dad
suffered a fatal heart attack in 1999 when she was just seven,
and there isn't a day that goes by when she does not miss him.
She has her father's initials tattooed on the side of her neck.
Last year, Merissa also lost her younger brother, Colton, in a
motorcycle accident. She knew all about losing loved ones.

Merissa fumbled with her smartphone and called Alexa, who
was working a four hour overtime shift at the health and
fitness club near Lawrence. I heard Alexa scream and cry out
through the speaker upon hearing the grim news. I spoke to
her briefly, and she promised to be home as soon as possible.
"I'm leaving work now!" Alexa told me frantically.

It was at this point when it really struck me. My legs
felt weak, and gave out on me. I fell to the floor in front
of Merissa, my pregnant wife, and started crying.

Dad was dead.

...Nothing's lost, all's gain
No more fret nor pain
No more stumbling on the way
No more longing for the day
Going to roam no more

I had been at fierce odds with Dad and Mom since they
learned that Merissa was part of our intimate relationship
in 2014, and that Alexa and I planned on marrying her. A
series of things-that-should-never-be-said arguments ensued,
and it basically fractured everything I had with my parents.

I was an outsider in my own family now - at least as it
pertained to Dad and Mom. Birthdays were not acknowledged.
Thanksgiving and Christmas came and went each year without
even so much as a holiday card in the mail. Cooper no longer
had his Grandma or Grandpa. Heck, Madison had never even met
my parents. Even once. They wanted nothing to do with her
because Merissa was her biological mother, not Alexa.

What is most perplexing is that before Merissa came into
our lives as a love interest, I got along wonderfully with
Dad and Mom. Especially Dad. They absolutely adored Alexa
and were so happy for us when we got married in May 2011. I
remember going to countless baseball games at Kaufman Stadium
with Dad to watch the Royals play when I was growing up. I
remember hiking mile after mile with him at _Clinton Park_,
the state park located a short distance from our family farm.
I remember Dad being... my best friend. My hero.

Yet that all changed in recent years. Today was his
funeral, though, and I was not going to allow myself to focus
on the negative. The bitterness. No. I was going to look
past that and simply remember all the good times with him.
It would be wrong of me to do anything else.

I looked over at Hudson, also one of my heroes when I was
growing up. He had a better singing voice than I did. I
was also unaware that Hudson could play the piano; his fingers
were dancing away as we continued forth with the song. He
looked good in a suit, too. Much better than me.

I glanced out at our 56-year-old sister, Janae, who was
wiping away the tears as Hudson and I performed the spiritual
duet. Dad was resting in the coffin, finally at ultimate
peace. Behind Janae, Alexa was struggling to keep her
emotions in check as she sat with her own mother and father.
Just like everyone else in the funeral home. My other brother
(Carl) was here from Utah, holding Mom's hand.

Obviously, this had been the toughest and most grueling
week of my entire life thus far. Bar none. In recent years,
I always had the hope that one day, Dad and I would have a
reconciliation. Mom too. I clung to that hope desperately.

Now? That hope was gone. At least in the physical sense.

Unfortunately, my own family - not all of them - were here
to say goodbye to Dad.

Not wanting to cause a scene or be the center of attention,
the very difficult and heart-wrenching decision was made that
Merissa and my 23-month-old daughter with her, Madison, would
not be attending the funeral. They stayed behind back home in
Lake Quivira. Seriously, how could my own wife and daughter
skip my father's funeral? Yet it had nothing to do with the
bitterness, and everything to do with perception.

It was necessary.

Mom, both my brothers and my sister, knew of our three-way
marriage. They knew that I had a child with both Alexa and
Merissa. Alexa's parents, Bob and Angela, knew as well, as
did Mike (my actual best friend nowadays) and his wife. No
one else who would be attending the funeral knew for sure,
however. But if Merissa and Madison were to attend with us,
the suspicious whispers and rumors, the furtive glances, from
busybody family members about us and our private lives would
ramp up again and quickly spiral out of control.

We did not want that. We did not want to be the center of
attention and gossip during my very own father's funeral.
Today was a day to honor his memory and legacy. It would not
be fair to subject Alexa and Merissa to the whispers and the
harsh glances. Most of all, it would not be fair to put the
kids through that, either. They were innocent in all of this.
There was no need to toss more fuel onto that fire.

So, Merissa and Madison stayed back in Lake Quivira while
Alexa, Cooper and yours truly made the 60 mile trip to attend
the funeral out here in Valley Falls. Merissa was not happy
about it, but did not say much. I think she understood.

Morning star lights the way
Restless dream all done
Shadows gone, break of day
Life has just begun

Every tear wiped away
Pain and sickness gone
Wide awake, there with Him
Peace goes on and on

Dad was born August 30, 1938 in Cincinnati, Ohio. Like
Alexa, he was a premature baby and actually slept in a shoebox,
in the dining room hutch, for the first few months of his life.
Money was scarce back then, he told me; times were different.
It was actually a miracle that he survived his first year.

Dad went from school to school in downtown Cincinnati when
he was growing up, and often enjoyed telling me the story (as
I am quite the avid baseball fan) about his senior year in high
school. There was this freshman kid that went to his newest
high school back in those days, Dad would always tell me, that
everyone said was an excellent baseball player. A truly
outstanding player and prospect. Dad never met him because of
the difference in their ages and class curriculums, but I bet
you may have heard of him. The baseball player? Pete Rose.

Dad joined the U.S. Army at age 18 and actually went to
Vietnam and took part in the early war effort there in 1957
and 1958. He was shot and critically wounded; an enemy bullet
pierced his neck, and actually came out the other side on his
shoulder. Medics rushed to try and tend to him, but they were
shot as well, and perished on the spot.

Throughout my entire childhood, and on into my adult years,
Dad would talk about his own hero - Danny Michaels. I cannot
even begin to recount how many times that Dad told me about how
Danny Michaels, a friend of his from Montana in the military,
proceeded to save his life. Danny Michaels actually used both
of his pinkie fingers to staunch the nasty bullet wounds Dad had
suffered, one in his neck, the other his shoulder, until more
help could arrive. Dad would have choked to death - on his own
blood - if not for Danny Michaels, I always heard. I would not
be here right now, either, if not for the great, heroic deeds
of Danny Michaels. I would have never been born.

Unfortunately, Danny Michaels was shot and fatally wounded
the next day in battle, Dad explained to me, as he was in the
military hospital recovering from surgery. In fact, all but
three men from Dad's battalion were lost. This was devastating
news, but the loss of his dear friend Danny was especially
difficult for Dad to take. They had met during basic training
and, despite being from very different backgrounds and walks of
life, over time, they had formed a close friendship.

After months of healing and recuperation, Dad returned home
to Cincinnati and eventually met and married Mom in 1959.
They relocated to the Kansas City area in 1960 and set roots
here. Together they rose four children, the last of which
being me. Janae was born in 1961, Hudson 1963, and Carl 1964.
I came along very unexpected ten years later in 1974. Dad
also leaves behind eight grandchildren.

Yet his legacy will live on.

Dad never forgot the genuine bond and sacrifice made by
Danny Michaels, thinking of him often, praising him often,
and frequently sharing his story at Boy Scout meetings.

After considerable research, Dad learned that Danny's body
had been returned to the U.S. and buried at Arlington National
Cemetery. In 2007, Dad was able to visit this sacred place,
locate Danny's gravesite and, after waiting 49 years, finally
give his dear friend a heartfelt _thank you_ and salute.

Going home, going home
I'm jus' going home
It's not far, yet close by
See the light, see the sun
I'm jus' going home
I'm jus' going... home

Receiving that telephone call this past Saturday had been
especially difficult. I certainly never expected Dad to die.
He was my dad. Dads are supposed to live forever. Right?

Yet despite our differences from these past few years, I
feel blessed that I got to call him my dad. I will hold onto
the good memories forever and cherish them, while the bad ones,
hopefully, slowly fade over time. All of the time we spent
together. Tossing a baseball back and forth in the back yard
when I was a kid. The many adventures we shared together.
The bicycle rides. The road trips. The fun.

It was difficult during the funeral, as I stood atop the
podium with my brother singing this final song, to look over
at the coffin and know Dad was in there. It was such a sad
time, but I kept reminding myself that we needed to celebrate
his life and everything he had accomplished today. Certainly,
Dad would not want us to be crying and all somber.

Yet, it was impossible not to.

I am happy that Dad at least got to know Cooper during the
first year of my son's life in 2014. I take solace in the
fact that one day, some how, some way, I will see Dad again.
I truly believe that families are forever, and that time heals
all wounds. It does. I have faith that Dad and I will
forgive each other for these past two-and-a-half years, and
things will be like they once were. He and I will go kayaking
off the coast of Texas in the Gulf of Mexico, and we will have
coffee at his favorite diner in Kansas City. We will be
together just like old times, and I hope to share stories of
my own grandchildren (and even great grandchildren) with him.

I also take solace in the fact that Dad is with his family
again right now. His own father and mother, his grandparents.
His brother Terry; my uncle, who also passed away because of a
stroke in 2006. The others he held near and dear to his heart
over the years. All of them are probably sitting around a big
banquet table right now in Heaven, getting reacquainted. Or
perhaps they are on a cruise. Dad always loved the water.

Best of all, I know Dad is with Danny Michaels right now,
the young man who saved his life in 1958. Danny was his best
friend, his hero, and someone he held in such high regards.
Danny was probably the first person Dad sought out in Heaven.

Going home, going home
I'm jus' going home

Hudson, Carl and I helped five others carry the coffin,
draped with an American flag, from the hearse to Dad's final
resting place at his cemetery plot in Easton, Kansas. It was
a bright, beautiful day; not a single cloud was in the sky.
Go figure. I felt I had done a pretty good job keeping my
emotions under control thus far today, but I lost it when the
military honor guard detail in attendance began folding the
flag. I just lost it, crying like never before, and had to
be held up by Alexa and Mike just to keep from falling over.

My oldest nephew (David), Second Class Petty Officer in
the U.S. Navy, and enlisted as a SEAL, presented the flag to
my mother. Mom was all misty and teary-eyed. A bugler played
Taps. The scene was utterly mind-blowing, and gave me chills.

Everyone in attendance was given a single rose, either
white or red, and was asked to line the lid of the coffin
with them. Friends and distant relatives went first with the
white roses. The red ones were next; I remember my wife,
Alexa, taking her turn and respectfully placing her red rose
in the proper line. She had been mired in all of the nasty
controversies the past two-and-a-half years as well, and did
not hold my father in the highest regard anymore. Yet today
was his funeral, and Alexa was overlooking the bitterness just
like I was. The man was still my father, and I loved him.
Alexa was here to support me, and respect Dad's memory.

Oh, how I wanted Merissa and Madison to be here, too. It
was tearing me apart inside that they were not with us. I
felt hollow without them here supporting me.

Mom placed the final red rose.

Once the ceremony was complete, the gathering slowly began
to disperse. The closest friends and family members were
invited to Janae's home for the wake, where there would be
plenty of good food and stories to be shared about Dad and his
life. We would play in the yard with the kids and maybe even
go bike riding in town. The day would end on a good note.

I stayed behind at the gravesite for a long time, though,
and there was a very special moment when Alexa asked Cooper,
my two brothers and sister, and me, to join hands. Alexa
then bowed her head in reverence, asked us to do the same,
and spoke a beautiful prayer.

"God our Father,
Your power brings us to birth,
Your providence guides our lives,
and by Your command we return to dust.

Lord, those who die still live in Your presence,
and their lives change but do not end.
I pray in hope for our family,
relatives and friends,
and for all the dead known to You alone.

In company with Christ,
Who died and now lives,
may William rejoice in Your kingdom,
where all our tears are wiped away.
Unite us together again in one family,
to sing Your praise forever and ever.


Yet my most lasting memory of the entire day, everything
that happened, was watching Mom and Alexa share a tearful
embrace just before we left for the wake. Mom was in the
passenger side of Hudson's car, and Alexa was leaning in
through the window. She offered Mom a bouquet of flowers
and said that she loved her. Mom did not approve of my
relationship and marriage choices, either, but it was a
pretty awesome thing to see her and Alexa hugging like
that. It seemed to provide me with a sense of validation,
and a promise of hope for the future. It would take some
time, but things would get better. Everything would.

* * *

To all of my readers, I appreciate it that you have taken
some time out of your day to read about my dad, learn about
his life. I know this is not the typical kind of story that
you read on these sites, but putting pen to paper (or fingers
to keyboard) on this very delicate and private subject was
important to me. Sharing this has been therapeutic, even,
and I freely admit that Dad's passing is the primary reason
that I chose to write this story as a whole and post it to
the masses. I have long considered the idea of sharing our
life story and romance - Alexa, Merissa and me - yet somehow,
Dad's passing was what put it over the top, and made me do it.

It may not make sense now, but hopefully it will by the
end of the final chapter. Just trust me, okay?

I hope that by reading this chapter, you got an idea of how
amazing and wonderful my dad is, and was. He made mistakes
in life, just as we all do, but he rose above them. Everyone
loved him. He was my hero. Dad was like the Captain America
of our family, our lives. It was incredible, all of the
things he did, and was able to accomplish in his life.

My final hope is that ultimately, my life is like Dad's in
terms of the fun, the family, the excitement and the outcomes
that he had. Dad lived a really good life, but he also
overcame a lot of struggles. He stuck to his guns, and
overcame every trial that stood in his way.

I want to do that. I want to teach my kids to do that,
through his example. I am so grateful for my dad, and I
love him. I will miss him, and I will think about him all
of the time from this point forward.

But, I WILL see him again. I know I will.

Funerals have always been very unique and even strange to
me because they are full of happy and sad tears. Dad's
funeral was no different. It was interesting in the sense
that it brought so many great memories together that made
me feel so happy, yet so incredibly sad at the same time.
Dad and I never came to a truce, and that hurt terribly.

I was sitting around at the end of the night with my two
brothers and one sister, sharing stories about Dad. I began
to wonder. What are they going to say at my funeral? What
are they going to say during my eulogy? I want to be the
kind of person, and live the type of life, where they say
amazing, wonderful things. I voiced this, and Janae reminded
me that I am my own person. I am in charge of my destiny.

Thank you to my readers, once again, for all of the support
as I have chronicled (recollected) our life story and marriage.
I appreciate it so much. Alexa and Merissa even thank you for
the very kind comments. Yet, I could never say this enough:
take the time, tell your friends and family that you love them.
Give them a hug, a kiss, whatever you have to do. Tell your
Mom and Dad how special they are to you, your brothers, your
sisters, your aunts, uncles, cousins, whomever. I cannot say
it enough. Tell your friends and family that you love them.

You never know when it may be your last opportunity.

* * *

"Merissa!" Alexa sighed and even stomped a high-heeled foot
at 1:30am on Friday morning as she rushed into the living room
and went over to our pregnant wife, who was sitting with a stoic
expression upon the sofa. "Merissa, why are you still awake?"
Alexa was piping loud. "You should be in bed, baby, sleeping!
You need your rest!" In the doorway, I held a snoozing Cooper
in my arms and looked on curiously. It was WELL past Cooper's
bed-time, as we had just now made it back home from the wake.

Merissa looked at both Alexa and yours truly, bitterness and
hurt etched across her face as well. Oh, no. "Do you two
realize how lonely I have been since you left at six o'clock
this morning? Do you have any FLIPPING idea how lonely this
entire day has been from start to finish for me?"

"Merissa?" Alexa shrilled, worried, sitting down on the
sofa and placing a loving hand upon her knee. "What are you
talking about, baby? Lonely? What's wrong?"

"How was the funeral?" Merissa inquired, something clearly
lurking within her. "How was it being around all those friends
and family, celebrating William, with YOUR husband, YOUR son?"

"Merissa!" Alexa exclaimed again, now confused. "Jeremy is
your husband, too! You make it sound like he's not. Talk to
me, baby. Please! What's wrong? Are you feeling okay?"

"I'LL TELL YOU WHAT'S WRONG!" Merissa suddenly erupted, as
if she was a volcano. I covered Cooper's ears with my hands
and took a step back in disbelief as Merissa elaborated, "Madi
and I were officially relegated to SECOND-CLASS citizens in
this relationship and marriage today! SOMEONE tell me, either
of you, WHY THE FUCK I couldn't go and be with my husband
during his father's funeral? His own daughter couldn't go?"

"We couldn't have all those nosy people from Jeremy's
family looking at you and Madi, making assumptions, coming
up with new rumors!" Alexa reminded her, frantic. "Merissa,
honey, PLEASE! We spoke about this already. They talk about
us and what they think our lifestyle is enough already! There
was no need to cause a scene and..."

"That's not the ANSWER I'M LOOKING FOR!" Merissa cut her
off. "I've sat here all day in this house with Madi, Lexi,
feeling ALONE and DEPRESSED, as you and YOUR husband, your
SON, are out with friends, with family!"

"It was a funeral, Merissa! Not a party!"

"Jeremy is obviously YOUR husband!" she sniped back. "He
ain't mine! Madi isn't his daughter, either!"

Alexa began crying. "Merissa! HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT? He
is just as much your husband as he is mine!"

"I learned today that I am SECOND-FIDDLE in this marriage!
SECOND-CLASS! You keep telling me, day after day, year after
year, that I am not. I'm equal. We're a team, a unit, a
true family. Yet a real, actual, certain, true WIFE does not
skip out on her father-in-law's funeral!"

Stunned, I stood there and glared at Merissa in silence.
How could she be saying these things right now? How could
Merissa even think them? She was a less important piece to
our puzzle? I was not actually her husband? Madison, by God,
was not my daughter? How could Merissa say such things?

Obviously, Merissa had been sitting home all day with these
ideas brewing and simmering over within her mind in the
19-plus hours Alexa, Cooper and I had been gone. I understood
her sudden anger; why she was upset. But I did not agree.

"Are you mad about not going to the funeral with us?"

"You're FUCKING RIGHT I'm mad!" Merissa fired back at Alexa.
"Did you just now FIGURE THAT OUT, you stupid DITZ?"

"You wouldn't have liked being there!" Alexa roared back.
"All of the people, all of the EYES on me today, it was awful!
Embarrassing and humiliating! People staring and whispering
amongst themselves, gossiping, coming up with new assumptions.
Jeremy's cousin Ryan even asked Cooper if he has two mommies!
I was able to pull him away before he could say yes!"

It would have been ten times worse if Merissa and Madison
had come along with us. Certain members of my extended family
would have swarmed over them and dug for any information they
could get about our personal, private lives. They would have
picked at Merissa and Madison like hungry vultures.

"AT LEAST you got to be there!"

I took Cooper and quietly exited the living room as
Merissa continued to go through her personal, screech-filled
tirade. Thankfully, the outbursts had not woken Cooper up yet.
I wanted to get Cooper somewhere nice and quiet, so he would
not rouse and hear any of this. I carried him into my private
office and put him on the leather sofa there, and tucked him
in with a blanket. Eventually, I would put him to bed, but
Cooper would be perfectly fine here for a few moments.

"While you're out hamming it up with friends and family,"
Merissa continued to yell at Alexa as I returned to the
living room, "Madi and I were left here, alone. All alone!
Even MIKE got to go to the funeral! But not ME! NOT US!"

"I chose to marry you and Jeremy, Lexi, because you both
promised me that I would NEVER be alone! I would never feel
alone or frightened again like I did in the past! Well,
I have been FUCKING MISERABLE! Madi kept asking me, where's
Daddy, where's Lexi, where's Cooper, why aren't they here
with us? I want to play with them!" Merissa shook her head
and even snarled like an angry bull. "I did not exactly know
how to tell my little daughter that Daddy was at his own
father's funeral, yet she and I WERE NOT FUCKING INVITED!"

Merissa stood up and angrily threw a sofa cushion across the
living room. "Jeremy is obviously YOUR husband, Lexi! Not
mine! Today proved that! Madi and I get left back here like
second-class citizens, like two pieces of unwanted trash, not
wanted at a family gathering because of WHAT PEOPLE MIGHT SAY
ABOUT US." She flung her right arm outward. "BULLSHIT!"

Alexa's face was covered in tears. "Merissa, baby, settle
down! You know we love you! My God, I've loved you my entire
life! Since we've been four years old! You KNOW that Jeremy
and I don't think of you as being second-class! Baby, honey,
you're pregnant, and you need to relax. You're..."

SWING, AND IT WILL PASS!" Merissa again exploded, cutting her
wife off. "IT WON'T PASS! You have NO IDEA, Lexi, how lonely
I've felt today. NO FUCKING IDEA! Nor will you ever, because
Jeremy would NEVER shut you out the way he did to me today!"

"I'M SORRY!" Alexa sobbed, hopping up and trying to close
the distance between herself and Merissa so she could hug her.
"We never meant to hurt you! WE LOVE YOU! My God, I love Madi
just as much as I do Cooper! You KNOW THAT!"

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Merissa snapped, backing away. "DON'T
YOU DARE TOUCH ME!" With pure venom in her eyes, Merissa
then turned and focused squarely on me. "And YOU..."

"LEAVE JEREMY ALONE!" Alexa begged her. "His father died,
and he just got home from the funeral! DON'T UPSET JEREMY
ANY MORE THAN HE ALREADY IS!" Still glaring at me with
extreme rage, Merissa grunted, and seemed to bite her tongue.
She desperately wanted to tear me a new one, but held back.

"You lost your dad when you were seven!" Alexa reminded
her. "I still remember the funeral like it was yesterday!
We sat in your tree-house for an hour with your two brothers
that morning and you cried while I hugged you! You did not
need someone screaming and making accusations at you that
day! Please don't hurt Jeremy more than he already is!"

Suddenly, all of the anger upon Merissa's face and in her
demeanor evaporated just like that, and a horrible sadness
overtook her eyes all at once. Her gaze fixated on me, she
let out a harsh whine and covered her mouth in devastation.
Tears began flowing down her cheeks in waves.

And then my wife ran off.

"MERISSA!" Alexa cried, running after her. "Merissa! WAIT!
Can we just settle down, and talk about this? MERISSA!..."

I stood there in the dining room, frozen, unable to move.
My pulse was racing. My head was pounding. My heart, broken.

...What the hell just happened?

<<<- End of Chapter 05 ->>>

==---- -- -- -- - --- -- -- - - --- -- -- --- - -- - - - - --- -- ----==

(c) 2017 Kaadorix

Feedback is always appreciated!

Two-Gun KidReport

2017-07-21 03:05:12
Keep up on the good work.


2017-07-17 23:53:18
I am sorry for your loss. Writing this chapter could not have been easy, but wanted to thank you for sharing with us. I look forward to each chapter as it is written so well. It captivated me from the first chapter.

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