On The Run: Part Two

The Final Chapter - "The Truth About Forever"

Jake

Christmas.

Loss.

Like a thief in the night, it comes, it takes something from you, leaves so much behind – the trauma, the pain, and the weight – but unlike a thief, it never goes away.

I woke up suddenly; the same images that had been pressing on my mind for months, shaking me awake. Sarah, in all that blood; Chloe in that bed.

I reached over for her, but the space next to me was empty. As always.

Slowly, I slid out of bed and out into the hall. It was dark, almost eerie, and as I made my way slowly down the hall, I let the soothing sound of snoring lead me.

I opened the first door, and smiled as the starry lamp lit up their little heads.

Callum.

Emily.

It had been a whirlwind. After the hospital escapade, Sarah was haunted most of all. She needed something, and at first, she’d used me to fill the hole. She took time off work, and spent her time helping me with my cases.

Then one day, Jay called, and within three hours we had a set of three-year old twins. Their parents had died in a house fire and they were going to be placed in the foster care system, unless we adopted them.

So, we did.

It had taken them a while to warm up to us. Callum more than Emily. Within a month, Em was calling us mom and dad, but Callum not so much. He warmed up to Sarah first, however. They were both traumatized, and somehow, they found solace in each other. He couldn’t hide the fact that he loved her most of all.

I walked further down the hall until I reached the other door. Slowly, I opened it up and stepped in, the near pitch-blackness taking some time to adjust to.

“Hey,” she said immediately, stirring.

Chloe.

I grinned, “Hey. Can’t sleep?”

She sat up and turned on her bedside lamp, “Got milk?”

I walked over and handed her the glass in my hand. It was our midnight ritual.

I had never been happier in my life, than at that moment when the doctor said those four life-changing words: ‘We’ve got a pulse.’

Sarah had stilled in my arms, and all of us had stood frozen. It was like magic – the way her heart rate went up suddenly, the way the color came back, and the most alarming of all, the way she choked against the breathing tube, searching for air.

She was magic. Utterly and completely.

Like I said – Loss; it takes and it leaves behind. But when you realize what you still have, that loss, that weight, it’s a little easier to bear.

Sarah had taken the miscarriage really hard, and I could understand it completely. Something she was on the brink of having, something she felt like she’d lost by her own hand. She felt like she had disappointed me, everyone else, and most of all, herself.

But I’ll never forget the look on her face as Chloe opened her eyes that day. Sarah smiled. Her face lit up, the color rushed to her face, and despite the redness and puffiness of her eyes, they were alight with happiness, and she let out a breath. One huge breath, for all of us.