Dear reader, we have arrived at the climax of the story. Thank you again for reading.

Chapter 27 December 23 2025

After a month on the pill, Whit knew some things were different.

It wasn’t anything dramatic. No sudden changes, no clear before and after. Just small things that didn’t seem to add up to anything on their own. His skin felt softer, maybe. He found himself pausing more, like there was a fraction of a second between feeling something and reacting to it. The constant background noise in his head, the low hum he’d gotten used to over the years, seemed quieter.

Or maybe he was imagining it.

His libido had dropped, or at least changed. That part was harder to pin down. It wasn’t gone, just… less urgent. Less demanding. Like it had been turned down instead of switched off.

His first therapy appointment had been underwhelming.

He talked. She listened.

If she had any opinions, she kept them to herself. No big insights, no diagnosis, no answers.

Only more questions. Like, “Have you considered how this is going to affect your marriage.” How was he supposed to answer that, Of course he had, that’s all he’d been thinking about.

Lucy had things on her mind as well. She’d been making a quick stop at the liquor store on the way home. Just light stuff. Just to help her not worry so much.

She could feel herself slipping back into old patterns of behavior. Her mind was overwhelmed by anxiety from a situation that was quickly growing outside of her control. Her husband was taking hormones, he was going to a therapist. He used to make fun of therapists, “A way to separate weak minded people from their money,” he had actually said once years ago when she brought it up that couples counseling might be good for them.

But more than anything she could tell, he was changing. He was on his computer all the time, reading forums, watching videos. In the past he would quickly hide his screen, but now he seemed to want to talk about it. It was all he seemed to want to talk about. Always going on about anti-trans laws gaining steam across the nation. He was reading a book by some transgender congresswoman. “You’re kidding me, there’s a transgender congresswoman?” Lucy asked.

“Yeah, Sarah McBride, her life story is amazing. Her husband was trans, and he died from cancer right after they married. It’s so sad.”

Lucy stared at him for a moment.

This was not her husband.

Then there was Grace. She was changing too, and Lucy knew their time with her would be ending soon. Grace was spending more time with her new friends, and apparently was dating a “non-binary person” named Evan.

Lucy had never felt more like a Mom than when Grace came to her with a question, “How do you know if you love someone?”

“Oh my God, tell me everything,” Lucy said. Evan was born a male, but now they were a “they.” Lucy thought this was kind of dumb, but she kept that to herself. Apparently, they were sweet, they were cute, and they were making Grace feel ways she’d never felt in her life, both emotionally and physically.

“Whoa, whoa, TMI.” Lucy said giggling like a kid again. Lucy imagined what she would have said to her daughter, if she had one, “If it’s love, you’ll know.” It sounded cheesy when she said it, but that’s the kind of thing a mother tells her daughter.

Grace had enrolled for the Spring semester at Shawnee College. She had her financial aid award letter. All she had to do was pass her GED, scheduled in early January. If she passed, she would start classes on January 12th.

On a less bright note her insurance payment was almost finalized, but Nick had decided to keep most of it. He claimed it had to do with the liability of the property, cleaning up the damaged trailer, and other expenses. Grace would be getting a few thousand dollars. Money that she desperately needed, but not the life changing sum she hoped for.

Finally Lucy and Whit’s short bout with internet fame had burned out, but Whit could not forget how he felt when Levi Hale asked him what he should be called. Almost every day he played the event back in his mind. But in his memory the faces in the crowd were longer and sinister. Hale was taller, his jawline sharper. Whit imagined herself standing her ground, she turned to the man and said, “Sarah, My name is Sarah Whitlock.”

Then there was Christmas.

For Lucy and Whit the month of December had always been a pressure cooker. There was no greater reminder of the soul crushing emptiness of a childless marriage than the sound of Christmas carols on TV, watching “Elf”, and “White Christmas” for the 28th time, and the 2 sad stockings hung side by side on the mantel.

Lucy watched Whit pull his Jeep out of the driveway. He was going to his second therapy session with a woman named Cassie. A woman he was telling all his secrets to, a woman that would convince him that he was a woman too, but the only way to be that woman was to move to New York or California, anywhere but Mud Creek, Illinois.

Lucy picked her keys off the table and held them tight. She’d already been drinking, just a little. She was good to drive, and there was somewhere she had to go, but she didn’t know how to get there.

There was an easy way to find out. Kill two birds with one stone. Lucy shouldered her purse and gripped the counter. There were rules against the thing she was going to do, but like husband was showing her, rules were meant to be broken.

***

Lucy pulled her car into Debbie’s driveway. She remembered the way to the quaint two story colonial well. But she made a quick stop at the liquor store and drove some backroads first to get her courage up. She walked down the driveway, her steps were fluid. She climbed the stairs then banged on the door.

Debbie answered, “Umm, Lucy right? Can I help you?”

“Yeah, I need to know where Nick lives.”

Debbie stepped out of the house and closed the door behind her. “Nick? My ex-husband? What is this all about?”

Lucy gave a short humorless laugh. “Well Deb, it’s about alot of things.”

Debbie crossed her arms, “Maybe you should start with one.”

Lucy stared at her for a second. Then it slipped.

“You see Deb, Nick’s decided to steal Grace’s money.

Debbie pulled back, “What are you talking about, Grace’s money?”

Lucy felt it pour out, “The insurance money from the trailer that fell on your daughter. Remember when I went and saved her life that night, when she was alone out there?”

Debbie felt tears in her eyes, and a white hot anger, “I have a son. Not a daughter.”

“You can shut the fuck up, bitch,” Lucy spit the words out before Debbie had finished. “You’ve got Jesus so far up your ass you couldn’t raise the child God gave you.”

Debbie could smell the alcohol on Lucy’s breath. She backed up against the door. “You need to leave right now before I call the police.”

Lucy grinned, “Gladly, just give the address.”

Debbie smiled, thin and fake, “Yeah, you should go talk to Nick, get out your phone. It’s 115 W Somerset Drive.”

“Thanks,” Lucy said and floated down the stairs. She stopped and turned around, “She’s a really fucking great kid. She’s going to college. I just want you to know that. Really fucking great, and you should be proud of her.”

Debbie took a deep breath as the small car drove out of sight. She swallowed, her jaw tightened. “A daughter?” she asked.

Her eyes burned, she blinked hard and shook her head.

“No.”

She turned and went back inside, closing the door behind her.

***

Lucy decided she needed more courage to confront Nick. She stopped for some at the Hick’s One Stop. then drove around a few backroads until it was truly good and dark before making her way to 115 W. Somerset Drive.

Lucy steered into Nick’s long driveway and then cut hard right into his lawn and drove across soft turf before stopping with her headlights facing into the house.

Before she was even out of the car Nick was on the front porch with a shotgun. “It’s Lucy, put the gun down,”she yelled as she cut the engine and stepped out of the car.

“Lucy?” Nick asked. “What the hell are you doing?” Nick turned and yelled back into the partially open door, “It’s Lucy.”

Nick watched as the woman took a few unsteady steps towards the porch.

Lucy stopped and put her hands on her hips, “Is that your new wife in there? Pretty young isn’t she?”

Bella came out in her nightgown with wide eyes, “I’ve called 911, the cops are coming.”

Nick frowned, “I’ll handle this, go back inside.”

Lucy chuckled, “Yeah, we have bid’ness to discuss.”

Bella shook her head and turned to Nick, “What the hell is going on?”

“Your husband owes me,” Lucy laughed, “For services rendered, and now he’s trying to screw over his own daughter,” she yelled maniacally.

Nick grimaced, Bella looked between both of them, “You… Her?”

Nick glanced down, realizing he was still holding the gun, “It was a long time ago,” he said, backing into the house. “Before I met you..” Nick sat the gun inside.

Lucy took another step towards the porch and almost fell down, “You just disappeared,” she said. “Like I didn’t even matter.”

Nick couldn’t answer.

Bella crossed her arms, and glared at her husband, “The cops will be here soon,” she went inside.

“Why are you keeping Grace’s money!” she yelled.

Nick stepped back on the porch, “Lucy, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said. “It’s going to cost thousands just to clean up the mess out there, then there was a lien on the property, and a deductible.”

All that information flew over Lucy’s head, “It’s so easy for you to just walk away from people. I’m not going to let you treat her the way you treated me,” she said.

Headlights turned into the driveway and Lucy staggered to her car, and grasped at the door.

“Wait, don’t.” Nick said and bounded down his porch putting himself between her and her car.

“Get the fuck out of my way!” Lucy said and pushed him. She immediately lost her balance and fell backwards, landing awkwardly on the concrete driveway.

“Lucy!” Nick yelled as he reached over to her.

The SUV stopped, its headlights illuminating the scene. A cop stepped out of the SUV and approached.

“Lucy?” he said looking down.

“Oww,” Lucy replied. She recognized the voice before the face, “Hi Brad,” she said.

Brad put his hands on his waist, “Lucy, I was hoping I wouldn’t be seeing you like this again.”

***

Whit sat in his recliner the TV was on with the sound so low he could barely hear it. At first he was relaxed, telling himself she was just out, maybe at the store. But after a few hours of her not answering he called her Mom, then he called Grace, who was out with Evan. No one had heard a thing from Lucy. Now it was almost 11 PM and he was seriously worried.

She hadn’t taken her belongings, so that meant she wasn’t leaving him. He kicked himself for not installing Life360 or something on her phone.

His phone finally rang, an unknown number.

A deadpan voice sounded through his ear, “Whit, hey. This is Brad Davis. I’ve got Lucy here.”

Whit stood up, “What happened?”

“She took a fall, just minor injuries. We’re at the ER.”

“Was she?” Whit couldn’t finish,

“Yeah she was intoxicated. Her car’s getting towed, the property owner wanted it gone, but isn’t pressing charges.”

Whit shook his head and, “Property owner?”

“Nick Miller, Lucy parked her car on his lawn and caused a scene. You should come down here,” Brad said.

Whit was already putting his shoes on, “Yeah, OK.”

“Sorry Whit, I thought this was over.”

Whit sighed “Thanks, it’s good you got the call.”

***

The ER was quiet, a few people were scattered in the waiting room, and a soft hush filled the space. The lights seemed to bright and hurt Whit’s eyes. He was quickly ushered from the counter by a very physically fit male nurse, Whit noticed his bright colored running shoes, they looked like something from the future.

The nurse turned and smiled, “We think she’s fine, minor sprained ankle, bump to the back of head. Possible concussion though so we’re keeping an eye on that. She should be able to go home soon.”

Whit wasn’t completely sure this was real, he nodded because that was what he was supposed to do.

He was taken into the curtained bay where Lucy sat in a bed, still in her clothes. She looked down at her hands folded on her chest.

“Hey Lucy, your husband is here.” The nurse announced. “How are you feeling? Still nauseous?”

Lucy shook her head side to side, “No,” she said meekly.

The nurse bent down over her, “OK, do me a favor, see if you can follow my finger.” Lucy watched the finger go back and forth a few times.

The nurse stood straight, “Great, she’s doing better,” he said. “We’ll get you out of here and at home soon.”

He left and Whit sat down in the chair near the bed. Lucy looked so small. An IV drop ran into a port on her arm.

“I’m sorry,” Lucy said quietly.

Whit took a deep breath, “What were you doing at Nick Miller’s house?”

Lucy’s exhaustion was almost overwhelming, she didn’t have the energy to lie, “We had an affair. A long time ago. I was pissed that he’s keeping the insurance money, and that him and Debbie didn’t take better care of Grace.” Lucy paused and looked towards the window, “And that he wasn’t interested in me.”

Whit’s mouth hung slack, there was a moment where he felt paralyzed, then a stabbing pain.

His voice was softer and quietly he asked, “You said you tried to cheat on me.”

Lucy began to cry, she dragged her hand across her face, “I lied.”

Whit felt the tears, he’d felt this before, but whatever he’d used to hold them back in the past was gone. “You lied?”

“I tried to leave you. Nick wouldn’t have me. He said he wanted a family and he knew I couldn't give him that.”

Lucy pulled the blanket to her face and blew her nose. Whit got out of the chair and took a couple steps back.

Lucy’s mouth hung open and she shook her head back and forth, “I’m so sorry. I’ve ruined everything. I can’t do anything.”

Whit looked at his hands.

There was nothing left, no plan, not a single constructive thought to fix this.

Just nothing.

She had never really looked at her hands before. Tears blurred her vision. “No,” she said. “I ruined everything. I lied, I’ve been lying for years. This is my fault, not yours.”

Lucy looked up and wiped her face, “No Darren, you’ve always been there for me. I’m the fuck-up. I’m the one who can’t stop drinking. I’m the one who couldn’t give you children.”

“Lucy,” she said quietly.

“My name is Sarah.”

No one spoke.

Sarah sat back down in the chair by the bed. She took Lucy’s hand and held it. They both dried their faces.

The curtain opened and the nurse poked his head in, “Okay, the doctor says you’re good to go.”

They drove home in silence at one in the morning past the empty storefronts and faded murals of a dying town. Mud Creek was asleep. Sarah noticed the time-worn Christmas decorations that had been hanging from the street lights for a month.

“Tomorrow is Christmas Eve,” she said.

Grace was waiting for them on the couch, she jumped up when they shuffled in the front door. “Where have you been? Why wouldn’t you answer?”

Lucy ignored her, she kicked her shoes off.

“It’s been a long night,” Sarah said. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

Grace heard something different in Sarah’s voice. She saw Lucy’s long exhausted face. She nodded and went to her room.

Lucy staggered into the bedroom and shut the door behind her. Sarah went to the couch, sleep came quickly.