Page 76 of Say You Want Me
“No.” I turn my head away and touch my stomach. “Not yet.”
Wyatt’s hand touches my shoulder. “We appreciate your help,” he says to them. “Why don’t we let Angie rest, and I’ll let you know if she changes her mind about a funeral.”
They bid their goodbyes and let me have my space.
A few minutes pass without either of us saying a word. I’m struggling with a myriad of things. I’m in physical pain for one, but my heart is broken . . . completely and utterly shredded.
When I sleep, I dream of her.
When I’m awake, I cry for her.
Everyone offers sympathy and support, but there’s nothing anyone can do to fill the hole in my heart.
“I’m not trying to push,” Wyatt says, breaking the silence.
“I know.”
“If you want me to be with you when you see her, I will. I’ll do anything you need, Angie. Anything.”
He’s trying. Hell, we both are. There’s no hiding how difficult this is for him. His tear-streaked face, puffy eyes, and constant worry is evident. I know he’s swimming in the same sea of grief as me. Both of us barely treading water. Both ready to be taken under.
I’ve gone back and forth on what I should do, but I think I know. “I want to see her.”
He nods. “Do you want me here with you?”
This will hurt him again. I know it’ll kill him. But I need him by my side.
“I don’t want to ask you to do it,” I say with a shaky voice. “I know it’s selfish, but I don’t think I can do it alone.”
Wyatt rushes forward, wrapping me in his arms. I don’t care that I’m physically in pain from his touch. I want him to never let me go. Right now, I can breathe just a little bit. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
I allow myself this comfort. I cling to him, to us, and to the ache that binds us together.
After we both collect ourselves, Wyatt calls for the nurse. She explains the process to me and lets me know what I can expect. There’s no way to truly prepare, I don’t think. How does a person ever ready themselves to say goodbye to their child?
No, I never held her and never heard her cry. I didn’t get to tie her shoes on her first day of school, but I loved her.
I named her in my heart.
I carried her in my belly.
And I gave her everything I could.
Now I have to say goodbye to her.
“WE’LL SEE YOU BACK ATthe house?” Mrs. Hennington asks.
“I really just want to go to bed.” I sit on the grass, picking the blades around me and wishing I could float away in the wind.
It would be so easy to drift, letting the breeze take me where it wants to go. Instead, I’m sinking deeper into the ground.
Wyatt, his parents, Presley, Zach, and Trent all stand around, looking unsure of what to do. Today we buried our daughter. This was the last thing we needed to do. The hospital explained that in doing this, we’d start to heal.
They’re full of shit.
It’s been eleven days since the accident, and it’s not getting any easier to accept what’s going on.
I’ve sat and cried, waded through unbelievable anger, and I’m slipping into numbness. Wyatt tries. Lord knows he wants to fix this, but there’s nothing he can do.
