I was babbling, trying to get everything out. But in the end, only one thing really mattered.
“The day you walked into my room at the hospital I knew you would change my life. I knew. I felt my soul reach out to you. I felt the beat of your heart inside me. I felt every bit of your courage, your strength, and your gentleness. You took my hand in yours that day, and you never let me go.”
The machines continued to beep, the lights continued to flash, and my wife continued to lay silent and still.
“You never mentioned the books I left you when you were in the basement.” I frowned at my own sudden recollection. “I knew you’d like them, because they were my favourites. Even as children, I bet you read to me. I know in my heart that you wiped my tears when I cried and you sang me a soft lullaby to make the pain go away. I feel that, Kloe, in the very centre of my heart.”
My heart wept and I clenched my teeth together when getting out the words became unbearable.
“You always watched over me, little wolf. And I hope to fucking God that you still will. Because I need you. Because if I think for one moment that you’re not here with me then I won’t be able to do this.”
My weeping became silent. My grief became silent. The beat of my heart became silent.
I felt it. Right then. I felt her, and I felt her love surround me. I felt her soul dance with mine, and I felt her pain cease.
I reached up and gently pressed my lips to her forehead, and I closed my eyes.
“I love you, my little wolf. I love you.”
My beautiful Kloe died three minutes later. And my soul died alongside her.
THE SMELL HIT ME AS soon as I pushed the door open, and I grimaced. Mail littered the front door mat and I bent to pick it up, tossing it onto the small table.
The house was dark, all the curtains drawn, and Anderson’s grief making even the shadows conceal themselves.
I didn’t want to do this, but I had to. It had been four days. Four days of hell that I never wanted to relive again.
Red whined and lifted her head from Anderson’s lap as I slowly walked into the lounge. Her tail wagged once and then she went back to supervising her master.
Numerous whisky bottles were laid about, a couple smashed and the shards of glass crunching under my feet. The ashtray was overflowing and I looked around for any signs of food.
Anderson never acknowledged me. I wasn’t sure if he was comatose or not but he didn’t move.
Anger and grief was a dangerous combination, and I stopped a short distance from him. He was laid out on the sofa, his eyes open but unfocussed. He wore sweatpants and a vest. Days of dirt and vomit clung to the material like a second layer of clothing.
Pulling in a breath, I slowly released it and braced myself. “You need to get up.”
He didn’t move.
“Your little boy needs you, Anderson. He hasn’t even set his eyes on you yet.”
Silence.
So I fisted my hands, steadied myself, and said the one line guaranteed to get a reaction. “What would Kloe think of you?”
My back hit the wall so hard that I swore he had fractured my spine. My lungs squealed in shock when his grip on my throat restricted their deep pull of air. I jumped when his other hand punched a hole through the wall beside my head.
“Kloe – isn’t – here!” he spat. I’d never seen so much rage and hostility in him before. It poured from him like he sweated pure hate, disgust leaking from his pores in abundance.
“No, she isn’t,” I choked around his hold. “But she’s in that little boy who really needs his daddy right now.”
Anderson blinked, rearing back slightly with the shock of my words.
“She lives with you in that little package of love, Anderson. She died to give him life. That isn’t his fault. It isn’t yours either. But it is. And it fucking stinks. But it is!”
His teeth snapped together and he shook his head. “But… she’s dead because he’s alive.”
Expecting exactly that, I nodded. “Yeah. But then, you could also say Kloe’s dead because you’re alive.”
The sharp words from my tongue hurt me as much as they did my best friend. His eyes widened in horror.
“Ivan would have killed you all those months ago, Anderson. Kloe fixed it. You would have imploded in terror if she hadn’t taken your hand when you left the Dawson’s farmhouse. Kloe fixed you. After Terry took her, Kloe fought with everything to keep your son alive. You created that little boy as much as she did. She didn’t get pregnant alone, Anderson. He was in her womb because you put him there!”
My own anger was boiling over and I thrust my face into his, my spit making him blink.
“HE’S YOUR SON! YOUR BABY!”
His head shook as tears fell from him.
“And he’s Kloe’s baby. He holds her soul, her spirit, her blood and her fucking strength. And now it’s about time you found yours!”
I pushed at him, moving his sagging body from mine.
And I walked away.