My body goes still.
My heart shatters.
My world crumbles.
“No!” I scream, rushing toward him. His body hangs limp on a rope tied to the beam in the ceiling. His lips are blue, eyes bloodshot, and there’s not a sound coming from him. “God, no!” I grab his legs, trying to hold him up as my body shakes. I need to get him down. Fear grips me as I use all my strength to keep him from hanging.
He doesn’t respond or move. “Todd, please. You can’t. Why?” I cry as tears fall relentlessly. I fight with everything I have to wake him.
I need to call 911, but I know. I know with everything inside me that it’s too late. There’s no sound of breathing. No movement. I can’t save him. He’s gone. But I refuse to give up. I rush to the other room and grab the phone.
I fumble as I dial, and my hands shake so hard I can barely press the buttons. As the call goes through, I return to trying to bring him back to me.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“M-my husband!” I scream into the receiver as I keep trying to hold him. “He tried . . . I mean, I t-think he’s d-dead. He’s not breathing.”
“Okay, ma’am, remain calm and tell me your address?”
I rattle off what I hope is the correct address. I can’t see as the tears blind me. “How could you leave me?” I sob as my arms cramp. “He’s not breathing!” I tell the operator frantically. I hoist him up as much as I can with one arm and press my fingers to his wrist, but I feel nothing.
“Ma’am, can you tell me what happened?”
I’d like to know the same thing. He would never do this to me and the boys. Yet, here I stand with my arms around his legs and his lifeless body. My chest aches as I think of Logan and Cayden unaware of what’s happening. “He’s h-hanging. I can’t get him down. I’m trying to push up, but I-I . . .” Every part of me breaks apart as I say the words. Then it hits me. “Oh, God.” I shake even harder. “My boys. They’re in the house. They don’t know,” I explain to the 911 operator.
“Can you tell me your name?”
“Presley. Presley Benson.”
“Okay, Presley. I’m Donna, and I’m going to stay on the line with you until the police and paramedics arrive. Is he moving at all?” Donna asks.
“No. He’s not moving. He’s not waking up. He . . . he’s . . . I can’t let the boys see this.”
“Is he breathing or making any sounds?”
I shake my head as I hear her words but can’t respond. This can’t be real. This is just a fucking dream. There’s no way this is real. Wake up, Presley . I shake my head, but nothing changes.
“Presley, are you there?”
“He’s not breathing. He has no pulse,” I say as the fear sharpens every nerve in my body. I’m breaking apart as the words spill from my mouth.
She talks as I fall back on my heels. “Take a few deep breaths. Can you have your children open the door for the police?”
“No.” I have to protect them. He’s dead. My husband of thirteen years just took his own life. “They can’t see this. I can never let them see him like this.”
Why would he do this? How am I going to tell them? How? I can’t do this. I’m not strong enough.
“All right, Presley, I need you to open the front door. The officers are almost there.”
“My boys. I-I have to . . .”
“Go to the front door, shield the boys as much as you can. They’ll be there in less than three minutes. Can you do that?”
Can I do anything?
Can I move?
Tears fall as I release my arms. “Why, Todd?” I whisper. A sob erupts from my chest as I stand there unable to move. “Why?”
“Are you still there?” Donna asks.
“I’m here. I can’t breathe. They can’t see him like this. He’s just . . .”
“I know, Presley. Take a deep breath, help is almost there. Can you go downstairs and bring them to a neighbor?”
I fall to the ground. My knees hit the unforgiving floor, but it’s nothing compared to the pain in my chest. I sit, unmoving, as my life falls apart. I have to think of those precious boys whose lives are about to be altered. The only thing I can do is be certain they’re protected. I wipe my face and try to pull myself together as much as I can.
“I’m heading there now.”
“Okay, I’ll remain on the phone with you until the officer arrives if you’d like.”
Right now, Donna is the only person that knows. If I disconnect the call, then this is it. It’s irrational and ridiculous, but once this call disconnects . . . it’s all real. “Please. I can’t do this alone.”
“Of course. I’m right here. You’re not alone, Presley.”
I manage to lift myself off the floor. My feet somehow move forward. I head to the living room, and Logan looks up.
“Mom?” He stands.