Chapter Song - Let Her Go by Passenger
Regret, an emotion close to a virus. It lumps in your throat, and diseases every cell in your body, slowly taking over until it's all you can think about. All you are, nothing else exists, because the regret is all that ceases.
Almost a day has passed by since last night, and it took less than an hour of an empty house for the regret to settle in. Spreading it's toxicity and toying with my thoughts and mind, splashing me with our argument in every silent moment.
"Where's mummy?" Hallie asks me again.
The girls haven't been happy with me since that night, and I'm not surprised. I spoke out irrationally, I overreacted and said words that I wish I could take back. But I said them and let them hang, she tried to pry for me to calm down, but I let the anger take control.
"I want mummy," Bridie whines.
"Where is she? Why'd you send her away?" Hallie questions, the girls nagging at my sides and I sink my face into my hands.
Sitting up, I take in a deep breath. "I messed up, girls, big time," I admit to them. "I said things to mummy, words that hurt her and I should never of said them," I explain and they're silent.
"Why? Why would you hurt mummy?" Hallie questions, while Bridie sniffles, as tears pill in her wide eyes.
"Come here, Bridie," I try to lift her, but she pulls away. I deserve that, I deserve more than that. I don't deserve any chance to give an apology, I don't deserve forgiveness and I don't deserve to ever see her again after what I said.
After I wished death on her brother. With everything she told me, after all their hardships together and rough childhoods, I still said that. The anger was all I felt, my thoughts were all over the place and I should've sat down and calmed myself.
But I didn't. I lashed out and bit at the places I know are weak. I stabbed her where it hurts and didn't care, then I tossed her out.
The way she looked at me with such hurt, but still such hope. So much hope and I crushed it all, everything I held in my hand, including her heart, I squashed in a matter of minutes.
"I didn't want to hurt her, but I did," I say. "I got mad and let it control my words, which in turn hurt mummy in ways I'm not sure she'll forgive me for," I admit.
They're both quiet for a second, Bridie still sniffing as she fights a few tears. "Come here, sweetie, please," I beg Bridie and she comes over, wrapping her arms around my neck.
"Is she coming back?" Hallie asks, eyes wide and hopeful. Just like Daphne's.
I shake my head. "I'm not sure, baby," I say and she bursts into tears, along with Bridie.
Hallie crawls onto my lap and I hold them closely to my chest, both of them shaking slightly as they cry. "Daddy, you have to get mummy back," Bridie mumbles.
"I don't know if I can," I admit.
"But you love each other, you have to," Hallie adds, wiping her damp face.
I sigh deeply. "I can't force her into coming home, girls. It's difficult to face someone who hurt you," I explain.
"I miss her," Bridie whines.
"I know you do, I miss her too," I try and soothe my girls, rubbing Bridie's back as I caress Hallie's damp face.
As the two lay on me, their usual spark and excitement withered, making the guilt and regret stain further and cut deeper than a knife.
With the regret and guilt stronger than ever, the anger still flickers, but not at Daphne. My ex-in laws, the villains behind the last torturous hours.
Never would I have expected them to stoop so low, to frame Daphne's brother, because they were annoyed and angry about Daphne and I's relationship. As if they had ever approved of me in the first place, I'm not sure what I do with my life now affects them in any way.
It's not as if they ever cared about their own daughter. Ignoring her once they were home and behind closed doors, pretending she never existed. But when it came to public appearances, their wasn't enough words in the English dictionary to explain their love for their 'splendid daughter'.
Jennifer mentioned a few times about their true intentions, where their actual money comes from and how they're apart of a much darker New York underworld. One that spans deeper and further than even they're aware of.
It was the main reason she never wanted the girls near her parents, never wanting them to be used for appearances and later forgotten. I guess my final cutting of the thin ties was all it took to set them off, to show how money can really buy you anything if you have enough of it.
It was something I should've expected, but nothing you could even remotely imagine. They're low people using others for their own benefit and stabbing others in the back to gain higher power, but framing an innocent boy for revenge?
Just for the reason I'm dating someone else, that I'm no longer withering away in my own self pity and sadness for the daughter they never loved.
As of now the two are still hiding away, somewhere in one of their many estates across the country, but the two aren't the best in covering their tracks. Obviously, since it didn't take much to figure out Nick had been framed and a few officers were paid off to lie.
Those three officers were fired on spot and revoked of whatever power they once had. I visited earlier this morning and a part of me was hopeful I'd see a glimpse of Daphne, but her best friend made sure I didn't get a single peak.
And it makes me relieved she has people who care for her, who will protect with everything they have, even my brother stood his ground when I asked about her.
The ring of my phone cuts through the sombre silence, both girls sitting up with hope that it's their mummy. I wish it was, but I know it's not.
"It's just the police, girls," I tell them and they dim, laying back down on my chest.
"Yes?" I question into the phone, my fingers playing with the ends of Hallie's hair.
"Mr Thompson, it's Officer Yorke," the officer I spoke to earlier today introduces. "The Hyland's have been found and are being brought into the station. I'll be running further questioning on the two, but they'll be sent to trial for a myriad of crimes," he explains and I suck in a sharp breath.
"Alright. Thank you, Officer," I tell him, then hang up shortly after.
Just the solidification that my ex-in laws are crime syndicates, that they've been committed such crimes right under everyones noses for decades. They've been near my girls and I'd hate to think what would've happened to them if one of many times they asked for the girls to stay over.
What would've happened? Would they've been safe?
Stop, thinking about something that never happened and will never happen, isn't at all helpful right now. You have one problem at hand and it's your fault.
Even if she never forgives you, or you never get back together again. The chance to apologise, to beg and plead is all I want. But what I want doesn't matter, I can't do this just for me, I have to for the girls.
It's unfair to let them fall in love with someone and create a bond with someone whom they love with everything in them, to then rip them away, without at least trying to do something.
But not yet, I have to give her space. Give her time to think, time to settle, time for her to plan out her next moves in life. And I wonder if I'm in any of those plans.
I'd hope I am, but the chances are slim.
I never deserved her. Never deserved her joy, her sunshine and her happiness to life, even one that didn't treat her well. I miss her optimism, smiles, laughter and the home she creates wherever she goes and I miss the feeling of her home.
Because it's not where I am, or the house we live in, it's her. She's the one who created a new home for us three. When life was dim and a settled 'okay', she waltzed in and sprinkled everything with her magical love and warmth.
Then I stomped on it and turned it cold. Squashing the love and poisoning her warmth with my anger and anguish.
"Dan?" a deep voice echos down the hall, and I recognise it as Ben's.
"In here!" I call out, not wanting to move the girls from my chest. Entering the lounge, he looks at me with sympathy and anger. Mainly anger, as he should do.
"You look like crap," he tells me, but is fully serious.
I nod. "I know, and I feel worse," I reply.
"As you should, you're a fucking asshole," he scolds and I'm thankful the girls have fallen asleep so they don't hear his or I's foul language.
"Seriously Dan, what were you thinking?" he questions, taking a seat on the ottoman in front of me.
"I wasn't,"
"Damn right, you've wrecked her," he says and my heart twists. You've wrecked her.
I sigh. "How is she?" I ask, since I haven't heard a single thing on where she is or how she is. All of it swarming my brain and causing a bleeding graze inside.
"Hurt, numb," he answers. "She's been sick for the past day, so Mary's been taking care of her," he tells me, but still remains vague.
I nod. "Has she said anything? About me, I mean?" I ask apprehensively.
"No," he tells me straight. "Only wondering about the girls, I don't think she's ready to deal with all you said yet," he says.
"Not surprised," I mutter. "I don't know what to do. I don't want her to forgive me or the god awful things I said, but I can't live without her," I say, my throat tightening at the thought of never seeing her again.
"Daddy, where's mummy?" Hallie mutters up to me, half asleep and dazed.
I suck in a sharp breath, tucking a piece of loose hair behind her ear. "Go back to sleep sweetie," I whisper and she nods dimly, before laying back on my chest.
"I'll talk to her," Ben tells me. "For the girls," he adds.
I nod. "Thanks, Ben. Really," I tell him and he sends a small smile.
"I'll see you later," he pats my shoulder twice, giving both sleepy girls a forehead kiss, before heading out.
Relaxing back into the couch, the girls passed out on my chest as I sit in the emptiness of the house. The cool chill that's swept through and set an icy grey over the inside, all warmth drained away.
As if all the colour was stolen and I'm back in a black and white film.
I stare down at the girls, their faces peaceful and innocent. So little and hopeful for the world, ready to explore and set a stone path for their futures.
I don't want them growing up without a mum. I don't want them growing up without Daphne, and even if I get hurt from my own actions, I can't let the girls suffer.
Because I'm nothing if they aren't happy, it's all I strive for and Daphne makes them happier than ever. It's torture to introduce them to her, let them fall in love with her and then for me to push her away, because I was what? Angry?
I'm a fucking idiot and I want to punch whatever alter ego who thought saying those words, those cruel vile words to her, would do anything. How it would've helped any of the escalated situation at the time settle.
Grabbing both girls, I stand up and set them on either side of my hip, their faces smushed into my shoulders. I carry them upstairs, setting Bridie in her bed first, before walking through to Hallie's room.
Tucking her sheets up to her shoulder, I set one of her stuffed toys under her arm. "I want mummy," she mumbles, a small pout on her lips.
I wipe the hair off her forehead, leaning down and brushing my lips softly over her cheek. "I know, I want her back to, baby," I whisper to her. "But sleep, sweetie. Dream sweet things," I tell her softly and she snuggles further into bed.
Flicking off her side lamp, I gently shut her bedroom door, before heading down the hall to a place I've been dreading to walk into all day.
Shutting the bedroom door softly, I lean back on the wood, staring at the hollow space. Dreary, lonely and grey, exactly how it was before she came, but this time it's in mourning.
Ignoring her echos, I walk over to the kitchenette, grabbing a glass and pouring myself a glass of bourbon. The rich spicy taste floods down my throat, creating some life inside of me and warmth in my hollow body.
Placing my glass in the small sink, I rip of my t-shirt and chuck it elsewhere. "Shit," I walk over and pick it up, chucking it into the closet hamper.
Daphne always told me to pick up my clothes, I tend to just throw them to floor and leave it for later like I'm a fucking teenager. A habit I never grew out of, but she was strict on it, in her own adorable way.
Looking up I see her side of the closet, bright coloured shirts, dresses, and skirts all filling the dark oak cabinets. Compared to my dreary one of black and grey shirts and suits, her's is the entire rainbow.
I pick up of few of my strewn pieces of clothing, one of her t-shirts in the mix. Her favourite t-shirt to be specific, the first clothing I saw her in; her Yankee's t-shirt.
Drear and agony, the same feelings I felt when Jennifer died. All her things were still here, but she wasn't, just the essence of her touch and scent haunting me.
Though, this hits with a different type of dagger. A sharper one, with the loathing poison of my own venom.
Jennifers death was an accident. This is my fault. I spoke with hatred and let the anger of lies control me and send away the woman I love.
God, and the way I treated her when she was packing. The look in her eyes, the hope for me to change my mind and the love that was slowly crumbling to a dust.
I was so blinded by rage and lies, that the echoing crack of her heart didn't hit me at the time. Now it's a ghost, a evil ghoul haunting my every thought, every move, every action. I want it gone, but I know it's what I deserve.
A tear drips onto the navy blue Yankee's shirt and I reel out my thoughts, not even realising I'd been crying. My throat squeezes as if there's a noose around my neck, one made of thick black regret.
I fold her shirt and place it in her shirt draw, trying not to delve into all her other clothing and get lost in the remanences of her lavender vanilla scent.
Grabbing a pair of sweatpants, I head to the bathroom, passing her vanity filled with her perfumes and other products. All of her is here, but she's not and I don't if can live with another ghost again.
The hot water pelts onto my back, all my muscles sore from todays strain. I'm not surprised by the truth about Jennifer's parents and nor do I care. They're being dealt with, I only have one problem to fix or at least aid.
All her hair and body products surround me and it feels like a teasing menace, some god torturing me. I deserve it, I know, but don't they get i'm punishing myself enough for it?
I feel like i'm choking on my own mind, all the thoughts stuffing into my throat. Tightening it from the inside out, and stopping the air from feeding into my lungs and aching my tired heart.
"Fuck!" I yell, trying to silence my mind.
After washing my hair and body, I turn the shower off, dry off and slip on some sweats. I'm tired and need to sleep, but the thought of laying in an empty bed sounds terrifying.
It was another reason I couldn't leave Daph' in the hospital. I mean I didn't want her alone and without someone, but the thought of sleeping without her in bed sounded dreadful.
I stare at the unmade bed, before grabbing the quilt and her pillow, and heading downstairs. I'm not sleeping there, I'd rather sleep on a bed of thorns.
The couch thankfully isn't the worst thing to sleep on, but nowhere near the comfort of a proper bed. But torture isn't the most appealing to me right now, so I'd rather not.
Sleep doesn't come easy, as I continue tossing and turning until the moon pierces my eyes. Although eventually my drowsiness lulls me to sleep, forever hoping I wake up from this god awful nightmare.
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