Page 76 of Say You Love Me

THEN

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HUDSON

Since she’s been gone the house has been quiet. Even the way it usually creaks and groans has changed. The sounds are sadder somehow, as though the house itself misses her.

She’s coming home today. It seems like forever since I’ve seen her. We’ve talked on the phone a few times but our conversations have been awkward and strained. I would ask her how she was. She would reply that she was fine. She would ask me how I was. I would reply that I was fine. And then we’d fall into silence, the thickness of it gathering and swirling until it all became too much and I would hang up without even saying goodbye.

With a deep breath to brace myself, I push open the door to Calla’s room. Mum is here. She’s standing in the middle, framed by the window, clutching an impossibly small dress to her chest. She breathes in its scent as though it’s soothing. Fat tears roll down her cheeks. She hasn’t noticed me standing in the doorway, so I clear my throat, feeling as though somehow I’m intruding.

“Hudson.” She says my name as a sigh. She looks around the room, at the tiny clothes stacked in piles, the books and toys in boxes and smiles sadly. “It’s harder than I thought it would be.”

“You don’t have to—”

She shakes her head before I can finish. “It’s better if I’m the one to do it. I don’t think Finity should come home to this.” Her eyes well with tears again and she blinks a few times before fanning her face. “The last time I went to visit her, they said it would be best if she could come home to a clean start. All of this,” she waves her hand over the room, “it would only bring back memories. Memories she’d rather forget.”

“But don’t you think that’s a little strange? Shoving everything aside as though she never existed?”

Mum comes over and rests her hand on my chest. “Everyone deals with things differently. That doesn’t make it wrong. And we’re not forgetting she existed. She’ll always be here.” She pats my chest. “Always. Never forgotten. Always here.”

I swallow the lump of anger that sits at the base of my throat. “I just wish she’d talk about it.”

I can’t tell my mother the truth, but I think deep down she knows the struggle I’ve got going on inside me to forgive my wife. But she doesn’t know that every time I think of Finity, contrasting emotions surge within me so powerfully I feel like I’m being torn in opposing directions. She thinks it was a cruel accident and nothing more. Sudden infant death syndrome. That’s what the autopsy said. That was what it was ruled. But I can’t help thinking of the expression on her face when she begged me to fuck her. It’s etched in my mind for all eternity. The desperation of it. The need in her voice as she pleaded.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive her. I don’t think I want to. I’ve never said it out loud. I can’t. But it’s always there at the back of my mind, always gnawing in my gut.

“Things will be different once she’s home again, you’ll see.” Mum moves to fold more of Calla’s clothing.

I stare at the bright colors, wishing that tears would come, but I’m all out of sadness and now I’m left with nothing but anger.

“Do you blame her?” Mum’s question startles me. I want to lie. I want to say that I don’t blame my wife, but when Mum looks at me with those piercing blue eyes of hers, I can’t lie.

“She never checked on her.” My words are barked out as though the taste of them alone is bitter. “Calla was crying and screaming for hours and when she finally fell asleep, Finity just left her. She didn’t check on her. If she had…” I don’t finish the sentence.

Mum’s eyes are shining with sympathy, but her words surprise me. “If I’m recalling correctly, neither did you.”

“But she was her mother.”

“And you were her father.”

“But she stopped me. She wouldn’t let me—”

“I know it’s hard to accept, but there’s no point in placing the blame on anyone. It was a horrible, devastating thing that happened, but you can’t let it tear you apart. You two need—”

I can’t stand to hear any more words come out of her mouth so I hold up my hand. Mum looks at me with pity. It makes me feel guilty.

She starts folding the clothing again. “Are you going to be okay with picking her up? I can go if it would make things easier.”

I shake my head. “I’ll go. I need to go.” I go to walk out the door but Mum calls out to me.

“Hudson?”

I look back.

“She loves you, Hudson. She loves you fiercely. Don’t punish her for that. Forgive her, and while you’re at it, forgive yourself.”

I stand in the doorway, letting her words soak in but all they do is anger me. Finally, I shut the door without answering, knowing that the next time I open it, it will be nothing but an empty room.

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