Lost Without You/A Jordan Knight FanFic✔️

15

Then

Alice's parents took Lucy for the night. I brought Alice home. She went straight to the bedroom and locked me out. I spent the night on the sofa listening to her cry. In the middle of the night, I walked around the pool, eyeing everything the police had already inspected. Austin pulled a chair from the deck to the fence to help him climb over it. It was a miracle it didn't knock him down the deck stairs. It was heartbreaking that Lucy didn't hear him because he probably shoved it down the stairs like he did whenever he wanted to move something from one level to another. He was a busybody, fearless and curious.

The next morning, I unlocked the door. Alice had fallen asleep in a ball on her side of the bed, clothes still on, hands loosely fisted in her hair.

"I'm going to get Lucy," I said softly.

She didn't move, didn't say anything. But I know she heard me. I changed my clothes, the same ones that had been drenched from the pool and headed to Alice's parents' house.

"Jordan." Alice's mom pulled me aside as I stepped into the foyer. "Lucy said it was her fault." Concern lined her face.

I could hear the TV on in the other room where I assumed Lucy was with Alice's dad.

"No. It was on my watch." My throat tightened with emotion.

Alice's mom flinched, tears pooling in her eyes. "I'm sorry."

I nodded. "I'm going to take her home now."

"You left Alice alone?"

"She was sleeping. That's why I want to get right back home." I headed toward the living room.

Lucy's gaze made a slow trip from the TV to me, a sign that she wasn't right, that she was still in shock too. I knew I had to fix it—fix her as quickly as possible before the damage became permanent.

"Let's go home, Luce." It had been a while since I'd picked up my daughter like a little girl and cradled her in my arms, but that was exactly what I did that day. Without another word to Alice's parents, I exited the house and buckled her in my truck.

A few blocks from home, I pulled over and killed the engine.

"Look at me, Lucy."

She slowly brought her gaze to meet mine.

"I should have been home sooner yesterday. Had I been home sooner, Austin wouldn't have fallen into the pool. It's my fault. Mom knows it's my fault. Everyone knows it's my fault. If you tell people it's your fault, then Mom will feel like it was really her fault for leaving before I got home. But I should have been there. It was my fault. The blame is mine and only mine. I need you to tell me you understand this. I need you to promise that you will not ever try to make anyone think that is was your fault or your mom's fault."

"But ..."

"No buts, Luce. It was my fault."

"But he's ..." Her bottom lip moved uncontrollably as tears spilled down her cheeks. "H-he's dead."

I pulled her to me, hugging her tightly. "I know. It's my fault that he's dead. And I'm so very sorry for not being there. I'm so sorry I let this happen to our family. But we need to go home and be there for Mom. She's so heartbroken right now, and she needs you. Can you be there for Mom? Can you help her through this?"

In my arms, her head moved up and down a little bit. I didn't know if she could do it, if she could let her brain fully believe it was my fault and not hers, but I had to hope, I had to try.

When we arrived home, Lucy tiptoed into the master bedroom and crawled into bed with Alice. I stood at the entrance and watched as my wife pulled Lucy into her arms and clung to her for dear life. As much as I wanted it to be me consoling Alice, my arms holding her, I knew it had to be Lucy.

~~

We buried Austin on a Tuesday.

Alice clung to Lucy and her parents during every step of the way while I stood in the shadows, the guilty one. My wife couldn't even look at me. I kept my emotions in check as if my confession robbed me of all rights to grieve.

I woke early in the morning, from my new spot on the sofa, to take a jog. When I reached an open field, absent of anyone who could hear me, I screamed—roaring like an angry animal, so fucking pissed off at God for taking my son. For a few minutes, I let myself completely fall apart with anger and tears and the question why? Why Austin?

Then I'd walk home, taking time to catch my breath and regain my composure before sneaking past Lucy and Alice in our bed, to take a shower before heading off to work.

Work ...

That was all I did.

Alice didn't say it, she didn't have to, but I knew she didn't want me at home. She needed Lucy, and some days, her parents would come to visit and make them lunch.

After a week of sleeping with Alice, Lucy decided she was ready to sleep in her own bed again, which meant she expected me to sleep with Alice. So we did. We slept together with our backs to each other and an infinite chasm of grief, guilt, and blame between us. An ocean too wide to cross.

I knew it from the moment I confessed to her in the hospital.

"You need to get rid of the fucking pool," Alice announced as she poured a cup of coffee a few minutes after Lucy got on the bus for her first day of school. It was the first thing she'd said directly to me since Austin died. With Lucy home as a buffer, she would say things to Lucy that I knew were meant for me.

"What's for dinner, Lucy? I'd make enchiladas, but we're out of chicken. And I'm tired of all the covered dishes clogging up the fridge and freezer."

That was her way of telling me to go to the store to get chicken without actually looking at me or addressing me directly. It was her way of telling me to ditch all the food friends and family had left for us.

Apparently, she didn't find it appropriate to tell Lucy to get rid of the fucking pool. Lucky me. We were back on speaking terms—sort of.

Nobody loved that pool more than Lucy. Was it fair to get rid of the pool when it was her favorite part of summer?

"We shouldn't have ever gotten a ..." Alice trailed off.

We shouldn't have ever gotten a pool. Of course, she thought it. I did too, along with so many other things we should or should not have done. I knew it. And I knew she did too, even if she couldn't say the words or even look at me to start to say them. I didn't blame her for not being able to say them, not when I couldn't say them. Austin died and we ran out of words. The unimaginable gobbled up our place in the world, leaving us stranded with no road map for navigating life after losing a child.

"Should we talk to Lucy first?"

"It was her idea," Alice said, tightening the sash on her robe before taking her coffee to the bedroom where she shut and locked the door behind her.

So ... I filled in the pool. Built a firepit with surrounding gardens. And planted an apple tree (Austin's favorite fruit) with Lucy in honor of him.

I took care of the yard. Cleaned the house, washed the windows. I took care of the laundry and all of the grocery shopping, and I made most of the meals. Whatever I could think of doing, I did, asking absolutely nothing of Alice.

It felt like everything, but it wasn't enough. No amount of work or good deeds could undo what had been done. In her eyes, I killed our son, and it was unforgivable. It was never a measure of her love for me; it was always a testament to her love for Austin.