Destroyed(98)

“What’s that?” Clara whispered, her face glowing from the fire.

Fox spun around, hiding his back from view. His lips twitched into a soft smile, causing a flurry of butterflies to erupt in my stomach. “Family.”

I didn’t think I was capable of feeling so wretched or so hopeful all at once. He hadn’t just stolen Clara from me, he’d stolen my heart. I wanted to throw myself into his arms and tell him I’d do anything to bring his dreams to life.

Then my heart shattered. What will he do when I tell him about Clara?

The thought made me want to run and never come back. He’d hate me.

Fox stood up suddenly and headed to a table beneath a bright halogen. He tucked something under his arm and came back. Placing the dirty rag-wrapped present on the floor by Clara’s feet, he yanked the material off. Resting on the floor was the fattest, woolliest, perfectly created metal sheep I’d ever seen.

My heart cracked, splintered, shattered in my chest. And I knew without a doubt I would love Roan until I died.

Clara’s eyes bugged and her little mouth fell open in a huge grin. “My sheep!”

Fox nodded. “Your sheep.”





That night, after an afternoon of heavy contemplation about Fox’s story, I put Clara to bed. Hugging her tightly, I breathed in her fresh apple scent, praying with all my soul she would survive beyond all doctors’ predictions. That she wouldn’t have to leave me.

After hearing Fox’s tale, I wanted to tell him mine. I wanted to be as open and honest, but at the same time I didn’t want to. I had no happy ending to offer him. I didn’t want to break the little boy’s heart and kill him, so soon after he found a way to be free.

Clara coughed quietly, drawing my attention. Her beautiful liquid eyes shone from the bedside light. “Something’s wrong with me. Isn’t there, mummy?” Her high lyrical voice was hushed, almost as if she didn’t want to say it aloud.

My world crunched to a stop, but instead of wailing and cursing life for such unfairness, I clutched hard at calmness and hid my tears. Strength I didn’t know I had filled my limbs, keeping my voice steady.

Inside, I felt like a cracked china doll with broken pieces that would never be glued together again, but externally, I was a strong mother who would be there for her daughter till the end.

Running my hands through her hair, I murmured, “There’s nothing wrong with you, Clara. You’re perfect in every way.” I sucked in a breath. “And that’s why you’ll be leaving me soon. You’re too perfect for this world. Too precious. You’ll be called to somewhere much better than here.” I clamped my lips closed as a wave of grief threatened to make me break. “You have nothing to be frightened of. Promise me you won’t be scared.” She looked up, her large, dark eyes looking like an eclipse blotting out the light. “Why do I have to go? I don’t want to leave you.”

I had no answers for her. My mind was blank and worthless. “We never know what life will bring. But we won’t be apart for long.”

“Did I do something bad? Is that why I cough so much?”

Oh, God.

“You didn’t do anything bad. Nothing. It’s just your lungs, sweetheart. Some people are born with a different life path, but it doesn’t mean you won’t be happy and healthy. You’re just going to somewhere better.”

She lay quiet for a time before tugging on my fingers. “Will you be okay? When I’m gone, I mean?”

I gave up the battle to stay dry-eyed and kissed her soft forehead. “I’ll be fine. I promise. I’ll talk to you every day. You’ll be with me always.”

She sighed, pressing her face against mine. “Even though I might leave, I won’t ever truly leave you, mummy. I’ll find a way to come back and be with you. But you have to promise me you won’t be alone. I would cry to think of you sad because I left you.”

I couldn’t reply.

She squirmed upright, placing her slightly sticky hand on my cheek, just like she’d done to Roan. “Promise me you’ll fix him, mummy. He needs you.”

I didn’t want to promise something I couldn’t achieve, but looking into her urgent eyes, I found myself nodding and swearing on my life I would fix the man I was falling for.

Only after I’d told Clara a story, and unwrapped her sleeping figure from my arms, did I slide down the bathroom door and cried wracking sobs with a fist in my mouth. On and on, wave after wave of crashing sorrow.

I purged myself until no more liquid existed in my body.

Only once my body quietened from sobs, did I stand up and look in the bottom of the rubbish bin where I’d hidden yet another complication.

The two pink lines mocked me from the home pregnancy test. All my life I believed I had one chance at motherhood. That the brutal attack in my teens left me barren. All the doctors concurred I was too badly mangled to conceive again. The nurses stroked my hands and consoled me. I’d been offered counselling to come to terms with never giving Clara a brother or sister.

At the time, I didn’t care. Clara had been a mistake—a wonderfully joyous mistake, but one I probably wouldn’t do a second time—but as time passed, I found myself sad to think I would never bring more life and wonder into the world.

But just like everything, life had a way of knocking me on my ass with surprises.