It was Ten years ago; sitting in a lawyer’s office. Ten years ago, negotiating a divorce from Zennie, when I’d gotten up and walked out. My lawyer came behind me and I’d told him, in not so many words, to give her everything, I’ll just take me.
And I walked away.
I walked away and went to my boat, and disappeared. I just left the city, everyone, everything, and stopped being Douglas Haversham.
Stopped being that man who loved from his soul, stopped being that man who cared passionately about everything.
I became a free wheeling Dougie; the guy who traveled from city to city, from bed to bed, and never engaged emotion.
Ten years have passed, I’m back in town. I have a job being security at a museum. Watching the monitors.
And I saw Zennie.
And I saw, for the first time, our son.
Instead of getting an abortion, which would have been logical, Zennie had my child. She had my child.
And seeing the way she looked towards him, put her hand on him, I knew she loved him.
For a very long moment, the Dougie I used to be, the Dougie who cared and loved, thought of leaving my post in the monitor room, racing to her, taking her in my arms, meeting my son.
The other Dougie, that Dougie I’d been for the decade, wanted to run.