We don't talk about what I've just sang. In fact, I just get up and head into the kitchen. That was far too much. Far too painful. I need to numb myself again. I need to stop these feelings that I've kept away for eight years. I need...
“Your baby would be so proud to know that her mummy loves her so much.”
I grip onto the worktop as all the air in my lungs is forced out. I can't handle this. I can't handle all of these feelings. They're all going around my head, drumming in my chest, forcing themselves out of me. I can't let them out. I can't let them out. I can't...
I can't stop them any more.
I turn to Danny, who's stood in the doorway. He's watching me, waiting for me to make the next move. Waiting for me to finally let him in. I take a shaky breathe and push myself up onto the worktop, holding out my hands to him. He obliges, standing in between my legs with a firm hold on my hands. It's time.
“I had it all planned out, you know?” I say, feeling the lump in my throat forming already. “I had a couple of names all thought out. If we were having a boy, he would have been Dominic. And a girl would have been Lucy. Of course, I hadn't talked to Glen about them yet. I'm sure he had his own names that he'd thought of. But they were just such beautiful names. Dominic Power. Lucy Power. Because, of course, they would have taken his last name. As would I, eventually. If that was what he wanted. If he would have asked me to marry him, I would have said yes. We would have had a summer wedding, because I know how much he loves the summer. A small ceremony, with our closest friends and family. And I know he would have made such an effort to make it the most beautiful day ever. We would have had more children, who would grow up and live happy lives. Following in the footsteps of her mummy and daddy. And we would have grown old together, living in a little cottage at the side of a forest, with a view so breathtaking that you would swear you were looking into a fairy tale. That was going to be our life. Our beautiful life together.”
I feel his thumbs caress my knuckles, gently encouraging me to go on. His eyes have never left my face, always watching for any sign of a breakdown. I can't look at him any more.
“And then I had to get in that stupid accident,” I say, voice crackling with the tears that are threatening to spill. His hands leave mine and gently hold my hips, allowing me to bunch my hands in his shirt. “I had to want that fucking block of cheese that day, didn't I? I had to give in to my needs and get in that car. And then when push came to shove, I didn't fight hard enough. I didn't tell the doctors that they needed to save our little baby. If I'd have woken up that little bit sooner, maybe they would have listened. Maybe they would have worked out a way to save our little angel.”
“Nothing you could have done would have changed it,” he whispers to me. My eyes snap up to meet his, so much hurt coursing through my veins.
“You don't know that,” I force out through gritted teeth.
"I do, sweetheart,” he soothes. “What happened was meant to happen. And as sick and twisted as it is, there is always a reason for these things. We may never understand them, and we will try and put blame on something other than the cruel, harsh reality that is 'life'.”
“Life didn't take away my baby.”
“What did then, sweetheart?”
“I did. A decision that I made. I should have been stronger.”
His hands comes up to stroke my cheek as he shakes his head. “Oh Emie, you can't take the blame for this. You did nothing wrong. You were as strong as you could ever have been. You fought as hard as anyone in that situation could have. But there was absolutely nothing that you could have done any differently. It wasn't your fault.”
