My Love: Mr Sergeant

The Note

For about 10 minutes, I found myself sitting on my desk, with Peter's words still lingering in my mind, the office around me fading into a dull blur.



"...the sugar daddy has dumped her off already."



I sincerely didn't know why the thought had to come back after that day.



I sighed and told myself it was irrelevant, rubbing a hand across my face as if that could wipe the thought away. 



Even though most of the things I told myself these days seem not to hold up, no matter how many times I repeated them.



I had picked Karis up this evening, but was told Sara wasn't around when asked, and I nodded politely, swallowing down a flicker of disappointment I didn't examine too closely. 



The apartment felt the same as it always did by the time I arrived home that evening, Karis's hand in mine, her small fingers curled trustingly around two of mine as we climbed the stairs together. 



I fed and gave her a bath before her eyes finally gave out, her small body going limp with exhaustion against my shoulder as I carried her to bed and laid her down gently.



I didn't let myself sit on the couch and act like I was okay until I had closed her door halfway, just as she always preferred, standing there for a moment in the hallway with my hand still resting on the doorframe before finally letting my shoulders drop and making my way down the hall.



I could see the refrigerator from where I sat, even though there was nothing on it now, my gaze kept straying to the corner of it that I could see from the kitchen doorway, as if my eyes had memorized the exact spot on their own and returned there out of habit rather than choice.



I had taken the note down weeks ago and folded it into a drawer that I never opened, because staring at it every morning kept memories springing up, 

memories I wasn't ready to face first thing before work, 

memories that had a way of following me out the door and sitting with me all day anyway.



But I could recall every single word. 

I had read it so many times that first night that it had permanently tucked into my memory, etched there whether I wanted it or not, the ink practically burned behind my eyes at this point.



"Jeth, I need to find myself. I can't keep living like this, my life doesn't evolve round these walls. I need more, I need to explore. I am tired. Take care of Karis."



That was the letter.



No description of her destination.



Nothing. 



Just for me to learn, three weeks later, quite from her sister, she was out there with a man, though older, wealthier, someone who could provide the "something more" she wanted, the words landing in my chest with a dull, familiar weight even now, one that had stopped surprising me but never quite stopped hurting either.



More clearly than I would have liked, I recalled the night she departed. 



I was called in for a double shift due to an emergency that neither Peter nor I could avoid. 



I texted her twice, my thumb hovering nervously over the send button both times.



"I'm running late, I'm so sorry, can you handle bedtime?"



But I never got a reply. I really didn't put in much thought — she occasionally became silent whenever she felt overburdened, and I respected her personal space during those times, telling myself she just needed a moment to breathe, that she'd come around in the morning like she always had before. 



Never had I thought that the room I was giving her was a place for her to go, a door I was unknowingly holding open for her to walk straight through without looking back.



I arrived home a little after eleven to the sound of Karis crying, my keys still in my hand as I pushed through the front door. 



She was sobbing, and that confirmed she had been crying away for a long time before I noticed the note on the fridge, the paper catching the light from the hallway just enough for me to see it before I even reached the kitchen.



I dropped my keys onto the counter without looking, my eyes fixed on the note, and for a moment I just stood there, letting the sound of Karis's cries pull me the rest of the way down the hall before I could even think to move.



I had examined her to realize there was nothing physically wrong with her.



She was alone, abandoned, in the dark with nobody coming until I did, the weight of that thought settling heavily over me as I gathered her into my arms.



I hadn't cried that night,when I found the note, that happened three days later, in the shower,

a place Karis couldn't hear me. 

Even though it's been months, I still feel the ghost of it whenever I try to overcome it, the memory catching me off guard in the quiet moments I least expect.



Until this time I had ignored everything about Betty, but the uneasiness I keep feeling at the moment I just couldn't describe it, a restlessness that sat in my chest.



I had no idea she would return. 

Not until …