The Only Way Out [Book 2]

Chapter 65 - Can't Take It Anymore

I thank him as he helps me sit down and I feel everyone's eyes on me. It's the 'I pity you but I don't know how to say it' stare and I hate it.

"Mommy, look!" Ferris happily exclaims, patting my arm and I put on my 'Mommy smile' before looking at her. "I have a, a, a cookie."

"Tell Mummy why you have a cookie, Love," Harry encourages her, but she just hums. "Is it because you were a big girl and ate all your vegetables?"

"Yeah! I'm a big girl," she proudly says before taking a bite of her chocolate chip cookie.

"That's right, sweet girl," I coo, brushing back her wispy curls and I feel Harry's hand on my knee.

"Your food's getting cold, Love," he quietly says and I lean over to kiss my daughter's head before turning to the table.

I look at my plate that has some brisket, mashed potatoes, green beans and a dinner roll and I just want to throw it at the wall. I can't eat the meat, the mashed potatoes probably have milk and butter in them and it hits me that I don't have to be on the special diet for my breastmilk anymore.

"What's the matter, Beatrice? Why aren't you eating? You need to eat."

My mom's worried voice and continuous questions make me wish I had run the water in the bathtub upstairs, while my daughter's happy giggles remind me of why I didn't.

I can't take this anymore.

"I'm going to eat in my room."

"Oh, Bea, please don't leave," Harry pleads, gently taking ahold of my hand to stop me. "We'll all be quiet, okay? Just stay here, with me, please."

I realize that everyone is looking at me, including my daughter and I reluctantly sit down. With Harry's reassuring hand on my back, I take my fork from the napkin and eat lunch with my family.

The time goes by with talk of the weather, the upcoming semester for school and trivial things and I'm glad no one's bringing up Sebastian.

It's just too painful to talk about him.

"Doesn't that sound like a good idea, Love?" Harry asks and I look up from my empty plate, giving him a questioning look. "Y'know, what Gem said about bringing Phillip over for a play date with Ferris this week?"

"Right, y-yeah, sounds good," I say with a smile, glancing at Gemma, but she's not smiling.

She knows it's my fault. Just ignore it, Bea. Maybe she will too.

Since my parents had the meal catered, we don't have to worry about the dishes and I'm grateful for that because I just want to get the hell out of here.

It's with several hugs goodbye that Harry, Ferris and I leave my parents' house and while I'm grateful for all that they've done for us, I need to get away.

As soon as Harry buckles Ferris in the car seat, the limo driver pulls away from the curb.

"Bye-bye, house!" Ferris happily says, waving her dolly all about and she drops it. "Uh oh. My dolly, Dadda."

"It's okay, Love," he kindly says, picking it up and he makes the dolly kiss her cheeks repeatedly and she giggles. "Here you go, Love. What do you say?" he asks and she thanks him. "That's my big girl," he kisses her head and takes his seat next to me. "You handled yourself rather well during lunch, Bea. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, and I'm proud of you too," I smile softly, taking his hand in mine. "I thought you were going to tell my mom to shut up earlier."

"I was," he chuckles, bringing my hand to his lips and he kisses it, "but that would've been rude."

"You would've said what we were all thinking, though," I shrug my shoulder and he chuckles.

"So how long until that one falls asleep?" he quietly asks and I look over at Ferris who is trying her hardest to keep her eyes open while she sucks on her thumb.

"First stop light," I say, resting my head on his shoulder and I close my eyes.

Before I know it, the driver pulls up to our house and we gather our things. While Harry carries our sleeping daughter, I grab the car seat and we thank the driver before exiting the limo.

The weather has turned slightly chilly and the clouds have rolled back in, so I'm glad we're home. Thunder rolls in the distance and I look up at the sky, wishing I could still see Sebastian's rainbow, but all I feel is a sprinkle on my forehead from the rain that's about to start.

I walk up the porch steps while Harry opens the front door and he lets me walk in first. I set the car seat down in the foyer next to the standing coatrack and he whispers that he'll put Ferris to bed. I nod as I shut and lock the door, watching him carry our sleeping daughter upstairs and I look around the house.

We're home, but it feels eerily different. It's quiet since Ferris is asleep and there's no baby crying. Then it hits me...there won't be a baby's cry in our house anymore, at least not for a while. I feel my eyes well up with tears at the hollow thought and I make my way upstairs.

I walk into our bedroom, flinching at the sudden clap of thunder and I sit down on the edge of the bed because I just don't want to do anything.

A tear rolls down my cheek as I look at the empty corner where we had Sebastian's bassinet and I remember that it's my fault and I just can't take it anymore. Words can't express the pain I feel from losing my son and knowing that it was my fault makes me want to scream.

I notice Harry walk into our bedroom in my peripheral vision and he closes the door behind him, but I don't look up. I can't even look at him because I know at any moment he's going to yell at me for letting our son die and I can't take the guilt anymore.

"Love, are you going to change out of your dre-"

"It was your fault," I blurt out, feeling my heart pound in my chest at what I've just said.

"What was my fault?" he asks and I look up from the floor, pressing my palms to the edge of the bed to help me stand up.

"It was your fault," I say again, watching him slowly piece it together.

"I hope you're not saying," he pauses and swallows harshly, looking me in the eyes, "Seb's death was my fault."

"It was your fault," I repeat with the same conviction, this time shutting my feelings down.

Thunder claps and my eyelids flinch, causing the tears that have pooled to roll down my cheeks. Almost immediately, the harsh pelting of the rain taps on the windowpane and the roof of our house and it makes this heartbreaking moment even more miserable.

"How can you say that, Bea? You can't believe that," he steps closer, reaching out his hand for mine, but I step back. "Oh, c'mon, Beatrice. Our son's death wasn't your fault and it wasn't m-"

"It was your fault."***

A/N: 😬

Much Love.
❤️❤️❤️❤️