Page 235 of Fighting Chance

MY FUTURE WIFE

MY FUTURE WIFE

*photo of Emmy*

KIERAN

my two beautiful girls

I loveyou sunshine

MY FUTURE WIFE

I love you too but I don’t feel very radiant

KIERAN

it’s okay love, you just have a few clouds passing through

Devastation doesn’t begin to cover what overcame Layla. Horror is more accurate of a description.

I’ve done everything to try and bring my sunshine back to life. To try and revive the piece of her soul that was so evidently taken that day in the doctor’s office, but nothing I do can ever repair it.

Have you ever had to watch someone you love go through something so utterly devastating that you watch their light leak out of their eyes? It’s not only taken a part of her soul, it’s robbed mine as well, because we are each others halves.

All the while, Layla is trying to act like nothing happened, but it’s like she’s a robot turned to autopilot mode. I can tell she doesn’t want to feel anything, doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t want to acknowledge any of it.

But when ads on the TV come on and there’s a baby, her eyes well with tears.

When we took Emmy out for ice cream and a pregnant lady walked in, she began to cry.

Anytime we pass a baby store, her body turns rigid.

Layla is trying to be brave, but she’s not allowing herself to feel the sadness. She’s trying not to burden me, and yet all I want to do is stand in front of her with my arms open wide and beg her to give me her grief.

I don’t know what to do anymore.

Hence why I’m here, knocking on her front door before morning practice.

Charlotte opens the door a moment later. “Come in, sweetie, I’ve got the kettle on.”

“Thank you.”

Her home feels different than the last time I was here, as ifCharlotte has been hit by the devastation of this as well and her home is showing the coldness.

“How is she doing?” she asks as she leads me to the kitchen.

Blowing out a breath, I take a seat at the kitchen bench. “I came to see if you had the answer to that.”

Smiling at me sadly over her shoulder, she says, “She’s been avoiding me. I’m afraid I know less than you do.” Turning back to the kettle, she pours two cups. “Although I know that’s on purpose. She knows I’d have a hard time not smothering her.”

“No such thing as smothering.”

She clicks her tongue. “Trust me, sweetie, there is.”

“How are you?”

Her shoulders droop at the question. “Not well, if I’m honest. I’m just—” She chokes on her words, her back stiffening. “She’s gone through so much as it is and this was just the final nail in the coffin. She didn’t deserve lupus, no one does, but to have lupusandbe infertile?”