I stood by the monitor, Zennie, my ‘beloved’ Zennie, measurable yards from me, yet I did not move.
She was a beautiful today as the day I last saw her. She had a boy with her, who had to be my son.
In any permutation of such a possibility; that is me being in the same city as Zennie, much less the same building, was incalculable. If asked, if told that this was possible, I would believe that I would have run from the monitor room to see her, to see the son I never knew I had.
Yet, I stand here, frozen.
I stand here thinking not of Zennie but of running from this room, from this building, from this city.
And I realise, I never loved her.
How fantastic it was to have divorced her before I knew… before I knew I didn’t love her. Left her before I knew she was pregnant, before I knew….
It was time for me to leave this city. To leave the gal I was currently shacked up with, and get onto my boat and go far far away and start living.
Me, Douglas Haversham, living.