Secrets and Consequences Part Two
Rated: R

Seven years earlier…

She looked asleep when he found her, almost peaceful, lying on her side across the floor, her long auburn hair fanned out around her, but her deathly pale complexion, the bluish tinge on her lips, and the empty bottle of prescription sleep pills in her limp, half open hand indicated her condition was serious. MacGyver didn’t hesitate to react, not even allowing his initial shock to stun him into inaction and paralysis, immediately rushing to her side.

“Ashley,” he said, feeling for her pulse, lightly shaking her in an attempt to rouse her from unconsciousness. She didn’t move or respond, her body already growing rigid, her pulse nonexistent. “Ashley!” He shouted, shaking her more violently. Still, she was nonresponsive. “No! Oh God, please don’t do this to me. Please…”

He began to desperately perform CPR on her, trying to revive her, alternately pressing on her chest and breathing into her mouth, but it was useless.

“Ashley! No! Oh, God…”

Sobbing, he continued his valiant efforts to save her, all to no avail. She was gone, her body stiff and lifeless in his arms, growing cold.

“Ashley…”

He lay on top of her as if to protect her from death, his sobs increasing in intensity. He remained that way for a long time, stroking her hair, staring at her, soaking her with his tears, bathing her in them.

“Why? Why did you do this? How could you have…no…please don’t do this. Please don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me…please…come back to me…please…no…oh God…no…”

***
The present…

“She was already dead when I found her,” MacGyver said, staring into the mist and the heavy downpour that was saturating the grounds of the cemetery. “She must have been that way for hours.”

“So you see? There was nothing you could have done to save her,” Pete said. “It was already too late when you arrived. She was already gone.”

MacGyver shrugged, ignoring him. “I wasn’t even expecting to see her that night,” he said. “We had broken up a few days earlier. I knew she still had a duplicate key to my apartment, but…”

“How was she when you ended the relationship? How did she sound?”

“Well, she was upset, obviously,” MacGyver said. “I remember her crying, but I just figured she would get over it eventually, that she would understand that what I had done was for the best. She deserved someone much better, someone who would care for her, you know—someone steady and stable, someone decent who would be there for her. I was never reliable enough, always moving around. It never occurred to me, at least there was little indication anyway, that she would ever do something so drastic as to kill herself. I never expected it. I thought I knew her. I guess I was wrong.”

“There was no way you could have anticipated such a tragic outcome,” Pete said, reaching up and placing his hand on MacGyver’s shoulder, watching as rivulets of rainwater gathered in the creases of his jacket and rolled down the sleeves. He sighed, deeply and profoundly saddened and moved by the story MacGyver was telling him, never expecting his friend to have harbored such a dark emotional secret for so long. “Did she at least leave a note, explaining the reasons behind her actions?”

MacGyver shook his head. “No,” he said, still staring straight ahead into the curtain of torrential rain, listening to it splatter on every available surface in the cemetery, imaging the raindrops splashing on Ashley’s gravestone and the rose he had placed there, wondering where she was now, whether there was some form of afterlife where she could be happy and at peace. He smiled slightly, a sad, strange, and rueful smile. “She was never one for expressing herself through words,” he said. “She was a visual artist, into symbolism. There was nothing more symbolic than her final act to show how she really felt about being rejected by me.” More tears emerged in his eyes, and he quickly blinked them away.

“What about the police? Did they find anything? I mean, I assume there was an investigation of some kind,” Pete said.

“There was, but they found nothing, no evidence of any foul play whatsoever,” MacGyver said. “She had entered my apartment using her copy of the key, and the pills were her prescription. She suffered from anxiety and insomnia, and they were supposed to help her condition. She once told me the main reason she chose to be with me was because I was so calm. Nothing seemed to bother me, she said, while everything bothered her. She said she needed someone to steady her nerves. I was her rock, she said, her sturdy foundation. She could rely on me. Well, some foundation I turned out to be. I slipped right beneath her like a landslide.” He sniffed and wiped his eyes.

“So the police found nothing at all?” Pete asked, not minding MacGyver’s digressions, knowing he needed to express all the feelings and pain he had been hiding for years.

“Absolutely nothing,” MacGyver said. “There were no signs of forced entry, no forensic or DNA evidence pointing to an intruder, and all fingerprints inside the apartment belonged either to me or to her. The evidence was solid and conclusive.”

“So she did kill herself,” Pete said.

MacGyver nodded. “It appears that way,” he said, releasing a shuddering sigh. “Over me. Because I couldn’t make her happy. Because I couldn’t be what she wanted. I keep repeating the events of that night in my mind, wondering if there was anything I could have done, wondering if there was something I could have done differently…”

“Don’t,” Pete said, looking at him. “Don’t do that to yourself. It’s tempting to do, I realize, but it won’t make you feel any better about what happened. Stop tormenting yourself over something you had no control over. It’s done. It’s over. She’s dead. It’s unfortunate, but you can’t change the past now.”

MacGyver nodded.

Pete smiled tearfully and squeezed his shoulder. “I am glad you felt free to share this with me, though,” he said. “It couldn’t have been easy hiding all those feelings for so long, especially from me, your best friend.”

“I know, Pete,” MacGyver said, looking at him, his eyes stormy and intense. “I just couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. You finding me here at the cemetery might have been the best thing that has ever happened to me. I finally get to release all those buried emotions from the past, and you deserve to know the truth.”

Pete looked around the cemetery, noticing the rain for the first time and how wet and cold it made everything surrounding them. The cemetery seemed so desolate and lonely in the rain, even with their presence there.

“It’s good to talk about loss,” he said. “It’s healthy. It’s part of the grieving process.” He thought about the grave and the single red rose MacGyver had placed there, its delicate petals now getting pummeled and battered by the rainfall. “Did you attend her funeral?” He asked.

“No,” MacGyver said. “I was too distraught—and ashamed, I suppose. I felt I was indirectly responsible for her death, that I had been the one to murder her by forcing those pills down her throat. I knew I was at fault. I knew I was guilty. I kept expecting and almost wanting the police to arrest me. I had killed her. I was insistent on that point. My actions led to her death.”

“But ultimately it was her decision to end her life,” Pete said. “You had no responsibility in that. She chose to react rashly instead of accepting that the relationship was over.”

“Maybe,” MacGyver said, shivering slightly, tendrils of his wet hair clinging to his temples. “Still, I didn’t want to confront her family. They knew I was seeing her at the time.”

“How long had you been together?”

“Almost a year. Can you believe that? If I had only stuck it out, made the commitment as I should have…”

“We’ve already been over that, Mac. You realized that you would never have made her happy. Perhaps it had already been a year too long being together.”

“Just imagining her family there, accusing me, knowing I was to blame for her death…I just didn’t need more pain. I already felt guilty and miserable enough on my own.”

“Do you regret not going?”

“Now I do. Now I would give anything to have been there. Actually, I would give anything to have her still alive.”

“I know you would.”

MacGyver folded his hands together and clenched his jaws. “Today is the anniversary of her death,” he said, sighing. “Every year, I come here to place a rose on her grave. It’s the least I can do, but it’s a gesture that I still care about her, that I still think about her.”

Pete nodded. “I think it’s a fine gesture, MacGyver,” he said. “It’s what I do, too, and why I was here as well, paying respects to a friend, letting him know I’m still around, that I haven’t forgotten. It may only be symbolic, and they may not even be aware that we’re doing it, but at least cemeteries allow us a place to express that grief, and our enduring love for the person we have lost.”

MacGyver looked at him, surprised. “That’s a beautiful thought, Pete,” he said.

“Well, you know,” Pete said, shrugging. “Come on, we’re practically drowning out here in this rain. What do you say we go someplace to dry off?”

“Sounds good.”

The two men got up and walked toward their cars in the parking lot.

***

The man had seen everything, watching MacGyver since he arrived at the cemetery, watching him from a distance through his binoculars. He saw how visibly upset MacGyver was, and how touching the scene was when he placed the rose on her grave. To him, it was all phony, a shallow display of emotion with little value, all of it coming too late to help her. It was difficult to restrain himself and his anger, wanting to exact his revenge the moment he saw him, pretending to care about her death when he never cared about anyone but himself, using her and throwing her away as if she meant nothing. Yet he knew he had to wait just a while longer. He had to remain patient. After all, he had waited seven years for this moment, and now it was about time to act.

“You don’t know what real pain is, MacGyver,” he said, “but you will soon. I will make you hurt. I will make you suffer for what you did to her. There will be no escape.”

To be continued…

Uh-oh. Bitter people are always scary! I fear for MacGyver's sanity!!

Wonderful chapter, MacsChick! Very interesting and the mysterious person seeking revenge is a nice touch Thank you!

Wonderful read.