A Field of Shattered Dreams

Consider this your trigger warning for everything ahead. Buckle up and enjoy the twisted journey with me!

When I walked across the stage to receive my high school diploma, I wasn’t sure what to expect. At the time, I was nearly ready to give birth to Hailey, and I was filled with uncertainty about the future. However, one thing I was sure of was Cole’s commitment to standing by our side. He had been a constant source of support for the past four years, taking care of us in a way that surpassed any expectations I had of him. I didn’t know that he would be taken from us so unexpectedly one day.

It happened at our small convenience store in Holmes where we supplied our farm produce. A shooting occurred, and the man responsible was never captured. He was caught on video wearing a mask as he fled the scene, leaving behind a devastating aftermath. Cole’s untimely passing left me grappling with the injustice of it all. He wasn’t meant to leave us so soon, and I was left unable to bring closure by ensuring that the murderer faced justice.

It has been two days since the shooting happened, and today we are laying Cole to rest. I have not moved from my cold bathroom floor. The food outside my door remains untouched, and my stomach aches with emptiness. Even for Hailey, my strength has left me. I know Cole would have encouraged me to be strong and move forward, but it feels impossible. How can one be strong when their heart has been torn in two?

The insistent banging on my door shattered the silence, making me jump. “Kenna, I’ve given you enough time,” Dee’s voice boomed. “You have one hour to get showered and dressed before I break this door down and drag you out. You need to eat before we leave for the funeral.” I was surprised she’d let me be alone this long, considering how overbearing she usually is.

A lump formed in my throat, the words I longed to speak trapped behind a wall of grief. It had been days since the news, and the silence felt deafening. I stood by the door, clinging to the desperate hope of a knock, a whisper, anything to confirm Cole’s murderer had been found. But there was nothing, just the empty echo of my despair.

“Fine, if you’re not going to talk can you at least tap the door twice to tell me that you will be out in the hour?” Dee sighed, her voice laced with both concern and a quiet understanding of my pain.

Two soft raps on the door, followed by the receding echo of her footsteps, were all the signals I needed. I rose, flicking on the light, and winced at the sudden glare. My clothes, unchanged since the news in the barn, felt heavy and grimy.

The hot shower, my usual sanctuary, became a contrast to the icy ache in my chest. As the dirt washed away, so too did the dam holding back my tears. They flowed silently, mirroring the grief and rage within.

Time had slipped away, but Dee hadn’t stormed in, her usual tactic when she didn’t get her way. Turning off the shower, I wrapped myself in the plush black towel, a gift from Jaxon, its surface engraved with ‘Cole & Kenna’. Gazing into the long bathroom mirror, I barely recognized the reflection. I barely noticed the dark circles and the swollen eyes that spoke of countless tears. All I could see was his name, forever etched into the soft fabric, a constant, painful reminder.

“Kenna, hurry up! What’s the hold-up?” Dee’s voice boomed from the other side of the door, but I remained rooted, my gaze fixed on the towel.

“Jeez, I’m coming!” Her impatience crackled through the wood, but I didn’t react. She was a master at picking locks; I knew she’d be in in seconds. Yet, my body refused to budge. The world seemed to pause, frozen in this single moment.

The door’s sudden creak jolted me from my reverie, yet my limbs remained rooted in place. Her initial expression was a thunderous storm, but it swiftly morphed into a gentle drizzle. As if I had doused her anger with a single glance, her fury melted away. She approached me with deliberate steps and enveloped me in a protective embrace, guiding me toward the room with a tenderness that belied her fiery nature.

“Sit here,” she murmured, her voice laced with concern. “I’ll fetch your clothes.” With a gentle push, she guided me to the edge of my bed, where I sat like a lifeless automaton, my gaze lost in the void.

Leaving the bathroom was a mistake. The sight of the bed, our bed, where Cole and I had shared so much, sent a fresh wave of tears crashing down. My heart ached with every glance, each memory a shard of glass piercing my soul. I was drowning in grief, desperate for escape. Then Dee’s arms enveloped me, her embrace a haven of darkness. I buried my face into her chest, seeking solace in her warmth.

“Shh, I’m here Kenna. I’m not leaving your side, you’re not alone,” she whispered, but her voice trembled, betraying her sorrow. Dee had lost her brother, her only family. We were both adrift in a sea of grief, clinging to each other for support.

She doesn’t expect me to say words. She never does. She is the best sister-in-law Cole could have given me, the best support system in case he couldn’t be here. He was at a business meeting out of town the night I gave birth to Hailey, but Dee was there the entire time. Holding my hand, cheering me on, while holding the phone with Cole on FaceTime, witnessing the birth of his baby girl.

“Have I told you how much I love you, Dee?” I mumbled, burying my face in her chest. Her arms tightened around me, a familiar comfort.

“Every day,” She chuckled but the laughter broke, replaced by a choked sob that dampened my shoulder.

“Alright, let’s get ourselves ready,” Dee said, pulling away from our embrace. She handed me a baby blue dress with white cowgirl boots. “Cole always hated black, but he loved this dress on you. It only makes sense that you wear it.” A wistful smile played on her lips as she watched me hold the dress, her gaze distant, lost in memories.

“He insisted black was a color of sadness,” I whispered.

“I still disagree with him,” Dee mumbled, shrugging in her formal black maxi dress. It strained to contain her ample curves but still looked elegant. I just stared at her for a moment, seeing echoes of Cole in her light blue eyes and sandy brown hair. It was a fleeting glimpse but it was enough to make my heart ache.

Dee paused at the doorway, her gaze seeking my approval. A silent nod from me granted her the courage to leave. Staring at the mirror, I acknowledged my appearance: my unkempt brown hair resembled a rat’s nest, and my puffy eyes bore witness to countless tears. I was a far cry from the presentable woman I once was, yet I could not miss this day.

With haste, I prepared myself. My hair, hastily brushed, was swept into a messy bun to conceal its disarray. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I recognized the same features, but the vibrant, cheerful Kenna that Cole once knew had vanished. Gone was the girl in the flowing baby blue dress and white cowgirl boots. In her place stood a broken and bewildered woman, questioning the cruel fate that had snatched her love away.

The old, worn stairs groaned beneath my feet, each step heavier as the joyous laughter from the dining room grew louder. It had to be Hailey. Five years old, she was too young to understand her father was gone, yet she knew. My heart ached with guilt, a terrible mother for not being there, even though Dee had everything under control.

“Ma!” Hailey squealed, spotting me as I entered the dining area. She came rushing, tiny arms wrapping around me with all her might. I returned the hug, lifting her into my arms. Her inquisitive eyes held a question I knew was coming. I had to steel myself before answering.

“Is daddy really gone?” she whispered into my ear. I nodded, forcing back tears as hers streamed down her face. She was a daddy’s girl, always had been. They did everything together, she would have been at the store with him the day he was murdered if not for a sleepover. I couldn’t bear to think what it would have been like to lose them both.

My arms tightened around her, her soft blonde hair flowing over my arm like a silken stream. “He will never truly be gone,” I whispered, my voice trembling with emotion. “He will always be with you, watching over you, my baby.” I held her close as she cried, her tears a tempest that I could not shield her from.