Rachel's Wolf

The life- altering night of the accident, Peter wasn't leaving on a business trip as everyone assumed. He was abruptly ending their marriage. He was on his way to meet the skank he'd been carrying on with for the last eight months, when he'd lost control of his sedan. He veered off the road and slammed into a tree. He'd lingered in hospital for a few hours, just long enough, not to ask her forgiveness, but to tell her that marrying her was the worst mistake of his life.

"Did you ever love me?" she asked, too broken to even cry. He'd attempted to smile arrogantly, but it was more of a smirk. His lower lip had been ripped apart.

"Never, " he croaked hoarsely. "You were a means to an end. . . "

Before she had a chance to respond, he'd gasped his last breath, amid an air of cruelty.

***

"The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. "

Listening to Reverend Matthews go through the long funeral litany, Rachel Murray adjusted her dark glasses, casting a quick glance at the assembled mourners, surrounding Peter's grave.

Widowed at twenty-seven, she’d had more than her share of things going wrong in her life. This was a new low. She was expected to portray the role of the grieving widow, with all these people giving her pitiful looks and sympathy, when in reality none of them knew the truth.

She was so lost in her thoughts, she hadn't realized his casket had already been lowered into the cold, dark earth.

Feeling a hand on her arm, Rachel lifted her head. She was expected to enact the final grieving wife scene, and throw a flower into the open grave.

"Darling, I know how difficult this must be for you, " her mother said. "What a wonderful man you've lost. He will always be in your heart. All our hearts."

She smiled shyly as Liz Banning extended the basket containing the rose petals. Her mother idolized Peter. Better to leave her with the impression she had of him, then to shatter her fantasy. Like any abuser,he only showed his best side to the outside world,while his wrath was entirely reserved for her.

"Thanks, Mom. " She threw a hand full of petals into the grave, looking down at his polished brown casket one more time. It gleamed pristinely in the soft morning sun.

"Goodbye, Peter, " she whispered, feeling a sense of overwhelming freedom. Five years of a possessive, loveless marriage had come to an end.

She tucked her dark hair behind her ears, watching the other mourners repeat what she'd started. All these people, and she was the only one who felt nothing but contempt for the man in the casket. Thank God they never had children. If she ever became a mother it would be with a man who loved her and her alone raising their kids in a stable home. Not a no good cheater,who could offer her nothing but reproach upon reproach.

She was the last one to turn away from the grave. In the distance, she saw their friends and family, assemble at the outside tearoom of the chapel. This was the one thing she'd insisted upon. To have tea and cake here and not at their home. Too much happened there on a daily basis and she couldn't risk exposure.

"So, ” she heard Peter's voice behind her. "I guess you outlived me after all. Funny how life turns out. I was sure I had a few more years at least."

Rachel quickly turned, removed her dark glasses, and glared at her dead husband's spirit. The audacity to show up and reveal himself to her was astounding. Even in death he couldn't leave her alone.

"Peter, what a surprise. Here I thought you'd crossed over already. You really should, you know. Staying here won't achieve anything. Do you see a light?"

"Perhaps I do. Is it for me Rachel?"

His voice changed in that moment. He sounded unsure and also quite surprised.

"Good, " she responded, turning away from him. " Then go into it and leave me the hell alone. "