The Letters (Carnage #4)(27)

As soon as Jimmie mentioned it, as soon as finally paid you some attention, I knew in an instant something was wrong.

And then everything happened so fast. You were sick, and then when I held you in my arms you were so cold and clammy. You just laid there, limp like a rag doll. I can’t begin to put into words the level of fear I felt during the few minutes it took us to get to the hospital.

I knew it was bad when they gave you a bed straight away. I held you, Georgia. I held you so tight in my arms, but I couldn’t stop you from shaking. I didn’t wanna let you go, G. I was so f*cking terrified that I would never get another chance, that it would be the last time I ever got to hold your soft warm body against mine, that I didn’t wanna let you go.

But then the convulsions started. George, I lost it. I f*cking lost it. Marley was holding me back when they wheeled you away. Fuck George, I knew the baby was gone. There was blood all over your jeans, and I knew what that meant, and my brain was sorta accepting that. But you, George? No, I couldn’t lose you. I wouldn’t survive, George. I wouldn’t f*ckin’ want to.

And then it was quite. After all the noise and chaos, they showed us to a waiting room and it was just nothing, silence.

Two hours I spent, contemplating how I was going to end my life if they didn’t come back soon and tell me you were ok.

You know I’m not religious, but I begged and I prayed to anyone that was out there listening, even the devil himself. Me for you George. That’s what I offered. My life for yours, but at the same time, I had to work out what I was gonna do if no one listened. I had two hours to work out exactly how things would go if you didn’t make it. I’d have to make sure you had a proper funeral, George. I’d be dying inside, but I’d get through it, knowing that soon enough, I’d be joining you too.

So, I would give you the perfect funeral, and then I would join you and our baby, George.

Then the doctor came and explained everything. Ectopic, fallopian tubes, rupture. Apparently, we were lucky, we lost our baby, but we got to the hospital in time to save you. I don’t feel too lucky right now, but I’m so f*cking grateful I still have you.

I love you, Gia, my beautiful girl. I love you so f*cking much. This next few months are gonna be hard. We’re gonna be sad, and we’re probably gonna fight and cry and blame each other. We just need to remember that when it all feels like it’s too hard or when it’s all too much, we’re Georgia and Sean. Sean and Georgia, and we’re meant to f*cking be.

Sleep soundly now. Tomorrow is a new day, and I will do my absolute best to make it a little brighter for you, because if your heart is as broken as mine right now, then I know just how much pain you will be feeling.

I love you, Gia, my brave and beautiful girl. I love you Baby McCarthy, I’m so sorry that we never got to meet you, but rest assured, you will be remembered with every beat of my heart. xxx



My head hurts and my face stings with the salt from my tears.

He hurt so bad after we lost baby M, and I was so selfishly wrapped up in my own grief that I never saw it. It was all about me. Never once in those first few weeks did I think about the fact that he had thought that he’d lost us both.

Aside from the anguish he conveys in this letter, I can’t help but notice the irony in the similarity of the way we thought.

He planned on getting through my funeral and then killing himself if I died. When he died, I attempted exactly that.

“Oh, Sean, life was so unfair to us, babe. Can you see me now? Are you watching me? I hope you’re happy for me. I hope I’ve made you proud.”

I pull a handful of tissues out of the box I have next to me and blow my nose.

Back in the early days, after Sean died, I was convinced I could feel him around me, but that’s not happened in a long time now.

Occasionally, when I’m in the car or the house by myself, I’ll be thinking of him and a song will come on that reminds me of him, but other than that, nothing. I wonder if it’s because he’s stepped aside. That would be such a Sean thing to do, to just step away and leave me to live my life, knowing that I have Cam and the kids to take care of me.

Zara Larson’s “Never Forget You” starts to play, and I laugh through my tears.

“Is that you? Are you talking to me through the songs?” I look around the room while I ask, but I get nothing. I don’t know what I was expecting but I can’t help but feel a little disappointed.

I throw myself down on the beanbag I’ve dragged in from the game room and start reading the next letter in the pile.



Why, why does it still have to hurt so bad?

When, when will it stop?

This hurt.

This ache.

I need it to go away.

I need it to never leave.

Do you feel it? This longing, the sense that something’s missing.

Or are you just numb? Numb and cold.

I hope you do.

I hope we share this misery.

Just one more bond to forever tie us together.



I let out a long sigh. I feel like we had so many “If Only’s” in our relationship, and as much as I regret the time we spent apart, it was all such a long time ago that having regrets over both our actions back then seems pretty pointless now.

Lukus Graham’s “7 Years” filters through the sound system, serving as a little reminder of how quick life passes us by.