For a few seconds, neither of them moved.
Aerys stared as if staring harder could make reality make sense.
She had buried him.
She had stood in black clothes while people held her shoulders and told her to be strong.
She had watched men lower a coffin into the ground.
She had lived eight years in the shadow of that moment.
“You’re dead,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “You’re… you’re dead.”
His eyes filled with something she could not name at first. It was not joy. It was not relief. It was pain hardened into anger.
“You need to leave,” he said.
Aerys blinked as if she had been slapped. “What?”
“Leave,” he repeated, firmer this time. “Now.”
“No.” Her breath came too fast. “No, you can’t say that and shut the door. Emeka, they told me you died. The police came to me. They said there was an accident. A car fire. They said—”
“I know what they told you.”
His voice was cold enough to make her flinch.
She stared at him. “Then tell me what happened.”
“Aerys, go.”
“How are you alive?” she demanded. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you come to me?”
His jaw clenched. His eyes turned bright with tears he clearly hated. “Because I know what you are.”
The words hit her like ice.
“What I am?”
“A woman who believed the story and walked away,” he said, voice shaking now. “A woman who let me die and never looked back.”
Aerys felt the porch tilt beneath her. “I thought you were gone.”
“Did you?” he shot back. “Or was it easier that way?”
The cruelty of it stole her breath.
“Emeka…”
“Don’t.” His eyes brimmed. “Just go. Please. I have survived without you this long. I don’t need you opening everything again.”
“Open what? I don’t even understand what I’m standing in front of. I went to your funeral!”
“And you never asked why the coffin stayed closed,” he snapped.
Aerys froze.
He was crying openly now, angry at himself for it, furious at her for seeing it.
“Please,” she said, softer now. “Just tell me one thing. Tell me if this is real.”
He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Real? I’ve been living here for years. I’ve been hungry, sick, scared, and alone. That real enough for you?”
Aerys opened her mouth, but he shook his head violently.
“No. No more. Leave.”
Then he shut the door in her face.
The sound echoed through her whole body.
She stood there on the porch, unable to move. Through the dirty window, she could see him crossing the room, sinking onto the couch, bending forward with his face in his hands.
He was crying.
Alive. Angry. Real.
Aerys did not knock again.
She walked back to the car on shaking legs.
Mr. Peterson opened his mouth the moment she got in, then stopped when he saw her face. “Ma’am… are you all right?”
Aerys kept staring at the glowing trailer window. “Drive,” she whispered.
“Should I take you home?”
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