Let Me In | Herophine Fic

Start Of The Season

HERO

August 11th

My eyes open slowly and automatically, like clockwork, like every other day my head turns to the left to see that it's empty. Still, after nearly three years, the other side of the bed is empty. My head turns every morning hoping, by some miracle, I'll wake up and she'll be there. Where she should be. Sleeping soundly. I pray every night before I close my eyes to find sleep that I'll wake up and she'll be beside me. But she's not. Just like every other morning. And she never will be again.

As I blink my eyes into focus, in the distance I hear footsteps. Scrambling across the hallway as they always do every morning before the door to my bedroom flies open. The blonde bundle of joy I call my daughter stands on the other side of the threshold just for a few moments before barrelling across the carpet to the foot of the bed.

"Morning, daddy!" Just like her mother, she's a morning person. All three of us are - well, were. Her blonde locks whip behind her as she jumps up and onto her knees on the bed, smiling happily.

"Morning, princess," she falls down beside me, smiling as she snuggles into my side. Her head resting on my chest. Pulling her flush to me, she squirms on the bed, until she can pull the thick white duvet over herself. Keeping both of us warm.

"How did you sleep?" I place a kiss on the top of her head. Reaching up to smooth her hair away from her face.

"Good. Are you playing football today?" I shake my head no. Going on to tell her that I'm just training today while she's at Summer Club at the school she's starting in September. All the current school kids and teachers are on summer holidays. Central London will be bustling for the next few weeks. Living in Chigwell takes us away from that noise and given I play for West Ham, any privacy I can get for me and her, I'll take.

"Not playing, just training today. Then I'll pick you up from Summer Club and we'll have dinner together. Daddy plays on Saturday," she nods, smiling up at me still. Strangely enough, my little girl loves football just as much as I do. Not that I blame her, it's a great sport.

"Are you going to score?"

"Maybe, sweetheart. Shall we go and get some breakfast?" She nods, wrapping her arms around my neck, telling me she wants me to carry her.

"Have you lost the use of your legs, little miss?" She nods, her lips pursing and her brows pulling together as if she's deep in thought.

"Well, I do apologise, Princess Mila. I didn't know. Come on, breakfast time," as I push myself up her legs wrap around my waist and I keep her on my hip as I push to stand and begin to pace out of my bedroom. Mila on my hip.

We wander down the hallway until we reach one of the many console tables lining the corridor. Only this one is different. This one is for her. My ex-girlfriend. Mila's mother, Sara. Exactly a week after she gave birth to Mila, she found a patch of skin on her left breast that just didn't seem right to her. She spotted it while nursing our baby girl. It wasn't right by a long shot. Within a week of me rushing her to the hospital, she was diagnosed with Stage 4 breast cancer and in that same appointment, we were dropped the bombshell that it was terminal. Spreading everywhere in her body which had just grown and birthed Mila. Mila had to have tests to ensure she was okay and thank God she was and still is. She's perfect, in every way. Just like her mother.

We were told there were no treatments available for her to even try. It was too far gone and the words the consultant used still haunt me to this day. He said to enjoy the time she has left as a family. How I was meant to do that knowing somewhere down the line the mother of my child would die, I'd have to bury her and raise our daughter on my own while being a widower, I couldn't tell you. Even now, almost three years down the line. Sara was only here for a year before passing away right in front of me. What added further to the blow was Mila had just turned one but she was too weak to celebrate. It's a time of year I both loathe and love.