[ WP ] You come home from work and the house is empty . On the kitchen counter , a note says `` I did n't know '' .

It was hot out today. The kind of heat that that seems to singe your skin everytime you stepped into the light. The only reprieve being whatever cold drink was left in your cooler pressed against the back of your neck. 
 Work had been long today though. Nothing left in the cooler. The ac is broke and so are my truck windows. I'm gon na need a shower as soon as i'm home. I glance over at the radio clock beside my dashboard. 5:36. If I hurry I can be home before Paul gets back from work. 
 I grin to myself. Paul. He likes the way I smell with the days sweat still clinging to my skin. Says I smell like a man. Still, I like it better when he seems me at my best. 
 I hit the gas pedal in my truck a little harder. The countryside scenery speeds by as think about the past five years we've spent together. Gon na be my birthday next week. Maybe I'll make dinner tonight since I know he'll go all out for my birthday. Lasagna is his favorite. He'll like that. 
 I pull up to our little house with those idiotic blue shudders he likes so much. Character he says. I think it looks like shit. But then again, when have I ever been able to say no to him? I pull up the driveway slowly, trying to peer into the garage windows. See if that red camaro of his is in there already. He's had it since high school. His first car. Now that's how you know a man is loyal. First car, first love. Never left it for newer and shinier. 
 Nope. No camaro. I smile to myself real wide. I think its gon na be a good night. Shower, start dinner. A little music. He'll be surprised. I ca n't wait to see the look on his face. 
 I shut my truck off and hop down from the seat, grab my keys and walk towards the door. Envisioning how I want the night to go is making me a little giddy. As I open the door and step inside, I look towards the fireplace mantel. Just like I do everyday. 
 Huh. Its not there. That picture of us at my sister's wedding. I put it there so he's the first thing I see as soon as I walk in the door. Always been nice having the days troubles melt away when I see that smile. Did he move it? Maybe he broke the glass and hid it on me. That'd be like him. 
 I pass the mantel frowning. Figure I'll head to the kitchen first. Make sure I got everything I need before I clean up. Would ruin the surprise if I had to call him to pick anything up on the way home. 
 Something ai n't right here though. House seems empty. More things are missing. Little stuff. Knickknacks and the like. What the hell is going on here? Even that stuffed rabbit we got from the fair is gone... 
 I walk into the kitchen, slowly. I should n't be worried, I know. But I'm getting a bad feeling. Then I see it. On the counter. White envelope with something scrawled across it. My heart pounds as I walk to it. Probably just the light bill, overdue as usual. But I ca n't shake this feeling of dread. My hands stops over it. `` I did n't know,'' it reads. I do n't know what this means, but I know I'm scared... 
 Trembling, I pick up the little envelope that seems so heavy. My hands shake as I tear the letter open and unfold the paper inside. Feels like there's something folded into it. A picture slides out and falls to counter. Its a little girl with blonde hair. She's wearing a sundress with purple polkadots on white. She has a shy smile as she sits on a swingset, the sunlight making her hair shimmer the way the flash of a fish's scales do skimming just under the water. Makes it look like liquid lightning. I always liked that. I get the feeling she doesnt really like her picture taken. Thats okay. Neither do I. I was never any good at guessing ages, but I think shed be somewhere under 10.Maybe seven or eight. Hell, maybe even nine. 
 I put the picture down on the counter, softly. Turning back to the letter, I see its his handwriting. Clear and neat. Everything perfectly spaced and shaped. Its the only thing he's not a total slob about, I think fondly. 
 Dear Johnny, 
 I did n't know. I do n't know what else to say. I told you once that before I found you, I did n't know who I was. You made me see who I am and everything I could be. I want you to know that everything I ever become, I wanted to share with you. You're the whole reason I get up every morning and the only thing I want to see every night. 
 I got this letter last week. You remember Rebecca? Rebecca Waters, from high school? We went to prom together. Before I knew who I really was. Before you showed me who I really was. Well the thing is... That picture. Her name is Tracy. She's my daughter. She looks just like me. Got my eyes and everything. Rebecca didnt know how to find me after school ended. Finally hunted me down after all these years.Ai n't that something? A daughter, man. My own blood. 
 I do n't know how to say this. But she's my kin. I got ta be in her life.You know how it was for me growing up. I had no daddy, no family. Did n't belong nowhere. Until I found you. 
 I ca n't let her go through that. My child. I got ta do what's best for her. You know how folks are around where we grew up. They did n't except me. They did n't except us. And they wo n't except her either. Not without a proper family. 
 Johnny, I love you. I promised wed grow old together. Spend the rest of our lives in each other's arms somewhere on the lakeside. You have to know that's all I ever wanted out of life. Nothing more. I'm so sorry, and I'll never love anyone else. Not ever. I know I'll never feel alive again like the time we've spent together. But I got ta do right by my girl, Johnny. 
 -Paul 
 P.S. I'm sorry I took the picture from the mantel. But I wan na keep it. That way, if I put it somewhere where I see it everyday when I get back from work, it'll feel like home again. Just for a minute, when I see your eyes. 
 
 
 Hot. My eyes blur and I ca n't see the words anymore. Why does my face feel so hot? I'm not sure when I got down here, but I'm sitting on the floor. I ca n't see. All I can feel is the heat running down my face. My breath heaves. I ca n't breathe and all I hear is these pitiful little whimpering noises. 
 What would my father say right now? I have n't thought of him since he disowned me all those years ago. I know what'd he say. In that gruff, commanding military voice he always used with me. 
 `` Men do n't cry, Johnny. Men do n't cry.''
