Page 152 of Nineteen Letters
So much time had passed, and the day I found you sitting on the side of our bed sobbing your heart out, I didn’t even link your tears to our loss. That is until I noticed you were holding those tiny socks in your hand.
Without hesitation, I wrapped you in my arms, but my comfort did nothing to ease your heartache. It almost broke me to see you like that, and it brought everything flooding back.
“Talk to me, Jem? Tell me what’s made you so upset?” I asked.
“Today is my due date,” you replied through your tears. I hadn’t even realised, and that knowledge had meconsumed with guilt. You hadn’t been yourself all day, and I hated that you’d been going through this alone. “Today I should’ve been holding my baby instead of these damn socks. It’s so unfair.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”I didn’t know what else to say.
I held you for what seemed like forever, all the while fighting back my own tears. “Can you get rid of these?” you eventually asked, passing me the socks and wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “It hurts too much to look at them.”
You were right, they would’ve been a constant reminder. I didn’t want you to forget our child. I knew neither of us would, but I knew I couldn’t bear to see you like this again.
While you were in the shower, I ducked outside. My hand hovered over the bin, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw them out. I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t. In my heart, it felt wrong.
The following day, I went to buy you some flowers, but I walked out with a rose bush instead. I wanted you to have something that would live on forever. I didn’t mention that when I gave it to you, but I’m pretty sure you knew why I’d done this. You even planted it in a pot instead ofthe garden. I can only assume it was because you knew our existing garden would eventually go along with our little shack.
I’d chosen white roses. The lady at the nursery had told me white roses not only symbolised remembrance, but also innocence, purity, and youthfulness. It seemed fitting. We still have the rose bush. It’s the one growing in the large blue pot on the front veranda.
Before the accident, you used to cut off the flowers when they were in bloom and place them in a vase beside our bed. Without even realising, you still do this. Out of all the flowers that grow in our garden, these are the ones you always choose.
Every time you do this, my heart smiles. For me, it just proves that your memory is still with you … it’s just tucked away somewhere deep inside.
Despite everything we’ve been through since that day, we made it. It took a few years to get there, but as that old saying goes, ‘Good things come to those who wait’. You finally got your wish … Your pigeon pair.
Words can’t even express what that means to me. Your happiness has, and always will be my priority. I’m blessed that you chose me to father your children, and to be the person you spend the rest of your life with.
Thank you doesn’t quite seem enough for everything you’ve given me. You and our children are the light in my life, and the love in my heart. I promise to always be there for you, Grace and Bailey. Always!
I love you, Jemma Isabella Rosalie Spencer … right down to the depths of my soul.
What we had is far too beautiful to be forgotten.
Yours always,
Braxton.
A huge smile graces my face as I pop my head around the privacy curtain in Jemma’s room. Our son is lying contently across her ribcage as she feeds him. The look of love I see on her face as she stares down at him makes my heart clench in my chest.
I stand there quietly for a few minutes, just watching. My life couldn’t be more perfect.
Her eyes light up when she finally notices me. If I could bottle that look, I would. “How long have you been standing there?” she asks.
“A few minutes,” I reply as I walk towards the bed.
“I was hoping you’d take my advice and sleep at home tonight.”
“Not a chance in hell. Besides, I told you I wouldn’t be able to sleep without you beside me.”
Leaning down, I place a soft kiss on her lips before gently running the back of my finger down Bailey’s sweet face. He looks just like his mother with his dark hair, cute nose and full lips.
“How was Grace when you dropped her off?”
“Missing her brother, but your mother’s cupcakes were a good distraction. When I left, she was eating popcorn and watching Frozen with your father.”
“Poor dad,” she says with a sympathetic smile. “He hates that movie.”
“Makes two of us,” I chuckle as I sit down on the side of the bed. “How are you feeling?”
