#it's been two years since my baby passed and i'm still as devastated as ever

[ddaengju]

my in-laws have had this cat for almost two years now. we come over semi-frequently and we've house sat several times since they got her. we're house sitting again this month and finally today, she purred for me. she sprawled out on the bed with me and let me give her chin scritches and let me pet her consistently 🥹🥹🥹 it's been almost two years and she's finally purring. she's laying in the bed with me and sleeping by my side. i feel like i've really won.

[amazinglyashy]

hi! i was wondering if i can request lads boys comforting their s/o bc their cat has passed. my baby passed today and i’m grieving really hard. thank you and have an amazing day🫶🏻

Moving this one up immediately in my box just to express my condolences. Your baby was very loved, I'm sure, and I hope you get through this tough time with care <3 I'm sorry for your loss. It's a tough time, regardless of who you're losing. My partner's grandpa passed a couple years back and I remember us crying, laughing and bowling, crying again, and talking a lot. Heck, I went to a craft store right after I heard the news and wandered around for two hours without any goal. I think I bought lolipop sticks. Take care love <3 You'll get through this. I know it's hard.

LaDS men when your pet cat has passed away

Xavier -

Since he lives so close by, your baby was his baby too, so he's devastated. Not equally so, he knows you spent more time with them, and you had them long before you had met him, but still- the pain exists.

The both of you are a bundle of blankets for a long while, just lying in the comfort and going through the both of your phones as you look for every single photo or video that has your cat in it, even just a little bit.

Lots of tears, but lots of laughs as well.

Everything is clear and apparent with every single memory the two of you go through- every little quirk your cat had, every little habit they had-

You both have a really nice time just talking about your cat, and any of the goofy mischief they used to get up to.

Of course you cry, and of course Xavier holds you through it. He knows how hard this is for you, and he knows it'll pass.

But until then, he's got you.

He's always got you.

Zayne -

He may be pragmatic to an extreme sometimes, but when it comes to grieving, he knows how hard it can be on the human psychic.

Not to mention on someone like you, who's already been through enough.

He'll definitely ask you if you want a hug, and if the answer is yes, he'll hold you, squeezing you so snugly and for so long that surely his muscle memory doesn't know a different position anymore.

Warm tea or cocoa, his old cardigan on your shoulders, pillows and blankets surrounding you on the couch, and just…

A lot of care.

If you ask him for any opinions or advice, he probably won't be able to give it to you. He doesn't want to risk anything coming out abrasive when you're still so tender, so he'll settle for condolences and anything comforting he can think of.

"I know it hurts. And you can try as you might, but the hole they left won't ever manage to be blocked out. All you can do is keep going, and hold their memory close."

Sylus -

Deep breath, it's going to be alright.

Loss is definitely something he's familiar with- and it's partially why he doesn't have anyone of his own. Mephisto may have a personality, but he's also mechanical. There's no way for him to disappear, because every bit of data in him gets saved, just in case.

But there's also no way your cat will disappear either, because Sylus has saved every memory of her, to make sure you will always have something should this day arrived.

He just didn't expect it to come so soon.

Doesn't matter what job he has, it's left to Luke and Kieran. He's by your side to care for you in whatever capacity you may need. He takes a lot of initiative, but he also asks you a lot of questions too. He doesn't want to risk making you uncomfortable, and he knows you're extra tender right now.

A lot of physical affection if that's what you need, and a lot of ideas to help you through it- whether he takes you out somewhere to help distract you from the pain, or goes through old memories with you to help you grieve through it, he'll do anything.

For as long as you may need.

Rafayel -

He hated cats.

Except for this one.

That was partially your fault, but also partially the darned cat's fault for being such a love.

He's devastated, both for you, and for himself.

He'll hug you- kiss you. Anything he can think of that usually cheers you up, even though he knows there's really nothing that's going to help right now.

He's been there, he's experienced loss. He knows what you're going through, and unfortunately- he knows that also means there's not really any helping it.

Someday when you're ready- could be in a month, could be three years from now, it doesn't matter at all him- he'll make you probably one of the favorite gifts you'll ever receive from him.

It's a portrait of your past baby, flowing full of life and color with eyes that sparkle almost as well as theirs did back when they were still around.

Almost.

And sometimes, 'almost' is more than enough to help ease the pain.

[theageofsims]

This is gonna be a shit post, but that's what I do around here.

So there's been 3 deaths. Yes -- 3.

How can this happen? Ya girl don't even know. So much is happening off my watch and to say that I'm not literally out there trying to pick my faves and runner-ups in this legacy would be a damn lie.

For starters -- Delaney. Somebody fucking tell me HOW Delaney even died though. I didn't even think vampires could actually die outside of burning up from the sun (if they aren't immune to it) -- and she was immune to it.

I knew they could die because her aunt passed away randomly about two months ago and I was going to work that into the storyline, but I had to get everyone into a new save (and been struggling making sure everyone is related where relations need to be especially since family trees have been broken).

But I didn't care about her Aunt -- I literally spent an entire like 8 hour game session awhile back when Delaney was still a teenager, to make sure she became a master vampire. Her father Timothy isn't even a master vampire (yet???) and at the rate he's going, he's closer to a damn demon rather than a vampire at this point.

I can't.

I wasn't around like at all for Delaney's childhood and most of her teenage years because I was off with the others.

It's whatever. That's just how I roll. I don't pause the aging of the Sims. They out there living their lives. Shit is gonna happen, but I had plans for Delaney.

I spent like 3 hours one night chatting with a friend about bullshit in-between us coming up with NINE boy and NINE girl names for Delaney and Coleman's unborn children.

They were supposed to have 9 children.

I don't know what happened in the original save, but Delaney was pregnant with 3 girls -- only one baby showed up after a massive glitch during her giving birth. That's why in the storyline it mentions she lost two children. What happened to them? I don't even know. I never ever had that happen.

Then she was supposed to have another set (of triplets). All nine children were supposed to be 3 sets of triplets. Well I made a mistake in MCCC, so she got pregnant with just one child... Another girl, which is Helga.

She was supposed to have 3 sons next. I had their names all picked out and ready to go... And then I find out she passed away. 😒

The game says she died of electrocution, but how? From lightening? They had no appliances or tvs in the house. Whatever the case, I just said she got stabbed in the heart by a vampire slayer because how else are vampire stories and their deaths typically told?

Fuck this game I'm through. 🤣😂🤣

I am so tired of planning shit that never ends up happening, but I also will NOT control these Sims more than I am within this legacy so they can just keep right on fucking with me! 🤣😂🤣

I knew something was going to happen to Delaney. I didn't know what or when, I mean -- she's the youngest sim to have passed away in my legacy, aside from her two daughters that never were meant to be.

I say this because she was constantly eating human food because she couldn't ever satisfy her hunger. She had that one trait -- or one of those food traits. The same as Lani (her mother) and it's like she was constantly in a state of hunger.

And then I made her a guilty drinker because she was supposed to be this like horseback rider at some point in her life so I was like oh she can just plant plama and harvest them -- and be fine.

Well -- ya girl wasn't fine. I don't know how many days she had left because she became an adult, but I'll know when I check in with Dakota (her twin sister).

Sunny, her late Aunt passed away like her first day as an Adult and I was devastated especially since Taro passed like a week before.

But anyway...

Clearly I made Coleman's death happen. I did use the random generator to find out if Timothy should be the one to end him. The random generator said yes and then I said well wait -- should Timothy end him or turn him? And the answer came back to end him so I said ya know what? Ya boy Coleman has GOT TO GO...

And that's what happened.

Now... Listen. What happened to Gavin was NOT supposed to happen to Gavin. I tried so hard to get him to safety.

I don't know what's going on with the fires in the game, but the incense is out there killing Sims. Just facts at this point. 🤷🏽‍♀️

I know I have a mod that fires do not start from fireplaces -- for years now, but I never had such an issue with incense.

I know I've had it happen, but the Sims are able to extinguish themselves or call the fire department. Sulani and Gavin couldn't do either -- and wait, Sulani's ass caught on fire, too! 👀👀👀👀

I was like OMG... I know this is NOT happening to me right now.

Well -- it happened.

But at least Sulani was finally able to extinguish herself.

And wait -- I wrote it that she tried to save him as in she dragged his ass out the house but in game he was OUTSIDE and he still got killed by the flames!

She was inside engulfed in flames and was able to extinguish herself at the last minute, but him? Not a chance. 😒☹️

[marcelllyn]

Unexpected proposal

I think I'm obsessed with Dean Winchester and I don't blame myself for that, because he's so… Maybe this will become a fanfic with more chapters, depending on my mood. Language: English (is not my first language). Synopsis: Colette is an old friend of Dean who is going through an identity crisis. When meeting Dean again at a diner, he ends up making an unexpected proposal. Warnings: Nothing but cute. Nasty review.

I was sitting there in a diner that smelled like old grease, drinking the worst coffee of my life. A cup of coffee and soggy toast with sour jam. Observing the people passing by on the street, every time a person in a suit or dressed in a work uniform passed by, my chest sank. Everything seemed so far from reality, as if I were a leftover piece of the puzzle of life. And let's face it, living off his father's inheritance wasn't going to be a good thing forever.

I needed a job, even though being a waitress, a store attendant, a dishwasher was getting repetitive, I wasn't able to keep a job, and I also couldn't finish any of the three colleges I started, money wasted.

Focused on the street, taking small sips of coffee, the world seemed to slow down when a black Impala parked in front of the diner. My memory wandered to simpler times.

I closed my eyes for a few seconds, remembering the memory of driving an old friend's Impala, the way his face looked disappointed when I scratched a little on his car. How could I fall madly in love with someone that day.

I opened my eyes, took another sip of that greasy coffee, -How must he be today? -I thought. I imagine that Sam, one of my few friends from school, must be going to college, now his brother, the feeling that even if he wanted to he would never be able to leave that life. Life I've always been interested in, ever since I met Sam eating alone in the cafeteria when he was twelve and invited him to my house for cookies almost every day after school.

When he and his brother disappeared after spending two months in the city, I remember being devastated and crying for a few weeks before I got over that I would never see them again. Well, I saw them again five years later when I moved away.

I woke up from my trance of memories when the entrance bell rang. My eyes widened when I saw him, majestically well, adjusting his leather jacket, running his hand through his blond hair. I could feel my jaw wanting to drop, his beauty was always jaw-dropping, it's no wonder my sister already had it. My stomach knotted, maybe from the coffee, maybe from the spoiled jam.

Dean leaned against the counter, I wish I could go over there and maybe say hi, but at least I know if he remembers me, and even if he did, what would he talk about? My life hasn't changed much since the last time we saw each other. The only big change was that I was now more like some kind of current nomad.

I stared at the cup, I felt embarrassed that I didn't have anything innovative to say.

—I can not believe. — That charming and mocking voice took over me.

I pictured Dean, smiling like a fool.

— Colette Schmidt!, or rather, Lety! — He leaned on the table. — I could recognize you from a thousand meters away, with that huge nose.

I snorted and motioned for him to sit in the yellow armchair in front of me, and he did so. I could hug him, but I knew he was never a fan of hugs or touching in general.

I narrowed my eyes, taking in every point of her beauty.

— He's older. — I commented.

— And that's the first thing you say to an old friend? - He laughed. — I'm still at my peak.

— And when haven't you been? — My smile was big, he could make me smile like an idiot just by looking at me. — Where have you been?

— Around— His vague answer left me unsatisfied, I lightly kicked his calf under the table. — I was walking around with Baby, no big deal, you know.

— Is Sam with you?

— I'm going to see him at college, can you believe he's really going to college? — He said with a slight frown.

— Sam was always smart, you'd imagine. — I took a sip. — Hunting?

He wrinkled his nose and said:

— Do I need to answer? — He said with a harsh tone.

I shook my head.

— What is the name of the college?

—Stanford University. — He measured me with his gaze. — Did you let your hair grow?

— And I stopped straightening. — I could have run my hand through my curls if my hand hadn't been so greasy.

— It was very beautiful. What are you working with?

I swallowed hard, I shouldn't be ashamed to expose my situation to Dean, I mean, he could never judge, after all, he's not in a position to do so. But I was afraid he would look at me with disappointment, the same way he looked at me when he was teaching me how to drive and I scratched Baby by accident, that look was fatal.

— I'm not doing anything at the moment.

Dean groaned in pleasure when the waitress placed his plate of waffles and some fruit on the table.

— And why aren't you working? — He put a piece of strawberry in his mouth.

— I don't find anything that interests me, everything seems futile. Something common people do, you know? — I provoked.

— Have you ever tried being a stripper? — He smiled with his mouth full.

I let out a satisfying laugh, one that I had been holding back for a long time.

— You know that I wouldn't even be able to do it if I wanted to, you've already seen me dancing.

— As your prom date, I say that you, in addition to being the first person who made me wear a suit, were the first person who also managed to make me end up in the hospital for stepping on my foot.

— Imagine doing a twirl on a stick? — As soon as he said it, Dean started looking at the ceiling with a satisfied look on his face.

— And what lingerie would you be wearing, in detail? — His eyes closed tightly as he bit his lower lip.

I took the opportunity to grab a strawberry from his plate.

— A pair of Scooby-Doo panties, a bra with images of severed heads.

He glared at me.

— Ruined the costume, even though the Scooby-Doo panties weren't the worst thing. — He stuffed a forkful of waffles inside. —But the way you are, it's quite possible that you'll hit some innocent person in the face with your heel.

I tried to get another strawberry and Dean looked at me like a rabid dog and patted my hand three times. We were silent for a few minutes, his eyes narrowed. The silence began to become uncomfortable as he chewed like a hungry child.

— It's strange, seeing you like this, meeting you again after five years. — He commented.

— Yes, it's thinking that in the past, well, it's… Never mind. — He shook his head, shaking off his thoughts.

He knew where he wanted to go, but that whole thing should stay in the past.

— I haven't changed much other than my hair and some tattoos.

— That's not exactly what I meant. — His eyes widened. — Calm down, did you say tattoos?

— I made some. — I lifted the sleeve of my blouse. Showing a small tattoo of the Metálica band logo. — It's a little cheesy, but I really like the band.

His face turned white as if a ghost had just walked past me, which would be harmful if it weren't for Dean Winchester.

— Who are you and what did you do with the real Collete? — He held my arm gently. — You hated Metálica!

I smiled like a fool again. His hand wasn't exactly soft, but it was definitely a good session.

— I was very strange.

I let him finish eating, the closer he got to finishing, the more an emptiness began to appear in my stomach, a feeling of abandonment. I would rather never see him again if he were to leave on the same day, on the same morning. At least the last time, Dean knocked on my door at one o'clock in the morning with Sam to say goodbye. The second game was the one that hurt the most, after all they had stayed by my side for a whole year, but apparently their father had decided to leave the city in a hurry. He wiped his mouth on his napkin once he was done.

— Anyway, where are we going now?

My gaze lit up.

— What?

— Take a drive, talk until we get tired of talking.

He gets up, leaving an insulting tip, and we leave that disgusting diner.

♡

Dean then did something unimaginable, he opened the car door so I could get in.

— This is new. — I mocked.

— Don't get used to it.

I got in the car, it felt like time had stopped. Dean sat down on the bench and started the car.

— Where do you want to go?

— I have no idea. — I looked at the back seats. — Is that a pair of panties?

— I swear it's not mine. — He grabbed my face and turned it forward. — I didn't know I would have visitors today.

— Didn't you have time to hide the panties that your lovers leave as souvenirs? — I scoffed.

—exactly! — He put a tape on the radio.

— Wow, do you know it's the 2000s?

— Shut up. — Your hand covers my mouth. — I want to see where you live.

I looked at him suspiciously, he was always a mystery, he was never very open, but there are things that never change.

—Dean. — He said suspiciously.

— Don't be like that. — He pouted. — I just want to see your house, without ulterior motives.

I nodded.

♡

I guided him to my house, a small apartment in an area that looked like Batman would be murdered if he stepped foot in that place.

—No judgement. — I covered his eyes while I opened the door. — And take off your shoes.

— This hallway smells of so many things. — He mocked.

I opened the door and the smell of lavender entered my nostrils like a perfume bomb.

— Everything is so tidy. — He threw himself on the sofa. — A living room with a view of Gotham, a kitchen and a bedroom.

— I don't need much. I don't even spend that much time here anyway.

Dean got up walking down the small hallway, ignored the bathroom and went directly to my room.

— Cute room. — Throw yourself on the bed.

— Dean, those dirty clothes on my bed! — I mumbled, laying down next to him.

— Your bed is more uncomfortable than the seat in my car.

— The sofa is more comfortable, I admit.

He pulls me to him, I rest my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

— Ready for a question bomb?

—Ever…

— Is the rent up to date?

— Yes.

— Falling in love? Or a very close friend?

— No. — That was sad, all my friends were going away or dying.

— You don't have a job and nothing keeping you here, why don't you just leave?

—And where would I go?

— You could go with me to Sam's college and then see if he likes anything there.

I sat up in bed, blinking repeatedly quickly.

— You are crazy.

— I thought you already knew. — Laughed. — Seriously, your company would be good and I hate seeing how unhappy you look.

— Dean, it's been almost five years since we've seen each other and now you're asking me to give up everything I have to go traveling with you?

— You only live once, and, in fact, we could go without seeing each other for ten years and still, when we saw each other, it would be the same as the last time.

— But this is crazy. — I sat on the bed. — You're a hunter, and I have a life, an apartment.

— Lety, you have an apartment, but not a life, that's survival. — He snorted. — You know, fate, even if I don't believe it, may have made me go to that diner that smells of old grease just to meet you again.

— That was the biggest nonsense you've ever said to me.

— I know. — He murmured. - Accept my invitation?

— Promise not to hunt on the way?

— Only in case of emergency. — He sat down on the bed. — Speaking of hunting, do you still remember some of the things I taught you?

— Of course, it’s impossible to forget. — My body shivers with the memories. — I remember everything you ever taught me. — I murmured. — I need some time to think about your proposal.

— It just won't take long, I'm starting to get worried about Baby.

Jumping out of bed, he started rummaging through my closet.

— Where are there towels here?

— Third drawer.

He opened the third drawer, and looked at me with a mischievous smile.

— Stop looking at my panties!

While Dean took a shower, my mind worked on the possibility of going with Dean, but my rational side begged me to continue my mediocre life. How I wanted to say yes, but leaving all my comfort to go to another city and then being aimless seemed crazy.

The noise of the shower stopped, Dean appeared in front of me without a shirt, focused on putting on the belt of his jeans. My mind seemed to be stopping, his tattoo showed on my chest, I remembered that I have one like it on my chest. Through his pure influence.

— Have you made up your mind?

— Why do you want to visit Sam?

— Family thing.

— What am I going to do when I get there?

— There will be things, believe me. Don't worry so much.

— What kind of things?

His face fell and he sighed deeply.

— I'm just worried about not having enough money.

— Your father gave you a lot of money, I imagine, you'll manage.

I sighed. I wanted to go with him, I really wanted to. I loved his presence, it would be nice to spend time with him and Sam again.

— I think that's it. — I shrugged. — I will, but no sleeping with women in the car. I will not sleep on the same bench where you fornicated.

— The car is mine. — He mocked. — No driving, no eating in the car.

— But what if you're sleepy?

— Then I'll stop so we can sleep.

I opened a smile, looking at her belly, I felt a tingling sensation. Get rid of this feeling as soon as possible.

— Help me pack my bag, I’m terrible at organization.

— Unfortunately, as I'm going to drive, I have to take a nap. So, when you're done, let me know and make sure Baby is okay every five minutes, okay?

[lucreziaq2001]

•TV show: "Criminal minds".

•Content warnings: Mentions of a baby who died in his mother's womb around 37 weeks into the pregnancy, his mom going through the whole pregnancy without a partner or spouse by her side (by choice), her having to give birth to her son after having found out he had passed away, her having to leave him at the hospital and go back home, mentions of a baby's funeral, her feelings after the loss of her baby (grief, wanting to isolate from her friends and many others), her accepting to meet her friend's newborn baby, but entering into a delusion in which that child is her son, her baby watching over her from Heaven and praying she'll be okay one day and her finally letting out all her feelings with one of her two closest friends helping her.

•This One Shot is an AU in which JJ and Will's second baby didn't die and was born alive in mid 2011. I named her Margaret because Maggie, the name JJ said she would have given her in the show, is not a full name, it's more of a nickname and it is her nickname here too. Emily also didn't go through the "thing" with Ian Doyle and JJ didn't have to leave her team in this story.

•I know JJ and Will weren't married yet in 2011, but to make things easier for myself, I chose to refer to him as her husband, since that's what many people do in my country with live-in partners, mostly if they have kids together. I hope this doesn't bother you.

•I don't fully know how maternity leave works in the USA, especially for an FBI agent, so I made those details up. If you know more about this, feel free to correct me, though.

•I don't know if Emily was religious in "Criminal minds", but even not religious people say that their dead loved ones are in Heaven, so I used that word around the end of the story.

•Tags: @lex13cm, @golden1u5t, @arabellavernierwrites (who helped me write this a pretty long time ago), @asolitaryrose3, @oneshotnewbie, @whotfskai, @marril96, @babiebom.

Until they'd meet again

On July 5, 2011, her first day back at work after her five-weeks-long leave, when Emily Prentiss walked into the bullpen, the first thing she would have liked to do was scream as loud as she could.

Why?

Well, because not really knowing what to say to her, all her co-workers and friends just asked "Are you alright?".

What Emily would have wanted to say was "No, I'm not! Who the hell would be alright just one month after their baby's death?!?", but to avoid worrying her friends and most of all, knowing they wouldn't have been able to understand what she was going through, what she ended up telling them was just "Yes, I'm okay".

She knew they didn't believe her, also because she wasn't able to look them in the eye while saying that.

Most of them were FBI profilers, after all.

Analyzing human behavior was their job.

None of them pressured her to open up, though, and Emily was partly happy, partly annoyed by that.

Less than half an hour after she had arrived at the office, she was already convinced that the worst part of her day was going to be having to stay at work, around people who didn't know how to talk to her, but shot pity-filled looks at her every few minutes, while all she actually wanted to do was go back home, the only place were she would have been alone, lay in bed and just miss her baby boy.

Her beloved Isaac, whom she had gotten pregnant with thanks to a sperm donor, had died in her womb in late May of that year.

His mother had found out about that on May 28, exactly thirty-eight weeks into her -at least until then- healthy pregnancy.

Hearing her doctor say "I'm so sorry. There is no heartbeat" had been more devastating than anything she had ever been through to Emily, and finding out she still had to deliver her son was even harder.

After two days spent locked up in her apartment, mostly crying and staring mindlessly at the TV, in the late afternoon of May 30, Emily had gone to the hospital to give birth to her much loved and wanted little boy.

The next morning, at 10:40 am, Isaac William Prentiss had come into the world, lifeless, but still perfect in his mother's eyes.

For the next two days, Emily held him every second she could, trying to memorize every single one of his features, talking and singing to him and taking more pictures than she could have counted.

Then, the time had come to say goodbye, and leaving Isaac to the nurses while she went back home was one more heartbreak for her to deal with.

For almost five whole weeks, she stayed cooped up in her house, only going out on the day of Isaac's funeral and one evening because her friend Penelope had basically forced her to go out with her.

That night, Emily had just wanted to go home as soon as possible, but on her first day back at work, in spite of her still very present heartbreak, she craved nothing more than to have normalcy and a healthy routine again.

That was why, although it had only been a little over a month since her son had passed and she would have had the right to three more weeks of paid leave, she had insisted on returning to the bureau.

There, however, everyone was tip-toeing around her, going the extra mile to make sure everything within their job maintained some sense of balance.

The team was trying their hardest to provide stability to the grieving mother Emily now was.

The next day, however, their friend and co-worker JJ, who had given birth to her daughter Margaret just three weeks prior, had decided to come see them.

She hadn't brought the baby with her, but she knew she was going to have to bring her up at some point.

Everyone else on the team had already been to her house to meet little Margaret for the first time, and JJ was now nauseous at the idea of having to find a way to invite Emily's freshly broken heart.

"Emily" she said, tapping softly on the door to her friend's office "Can I talk to you real quick before I go back home?".

Hardly looking up from her papers, Emily nodded and just responded with "Of course".

JJ timidly entered the room, still unsure of how to say what she wanted to tell the older woman.

"I thought now would be a good time to talk to you about this. As you know, I just had a baby. If you refuse, I understand. I want you to do what's best for you now. Don’t feel pressured or think that you somehow have to spare my feelings in any way-" she started to explain, but Emily soon interrupted her.

"JJ" she told her "You can ask the question".

JJ swallowed intensely.

"Would you like to meet my daughter?" she then asked.

Even though she had given her friend permission to ask her that, when she heard those words, Emily felt like she had just been punched in the stomach.

She tried to hide the fact that that question had knocked the wind out of her, but even a brief mention of a baby was enough to send her back into the pit of despair she was actively trying to claw her way out of.

"I can’t wait" she still forced herself to say, giving JJ a half-fake smile.

She was genuinely happy for her, but also fighting a losing battle inside.

The idea of her friend's new baby stormed up inside Emily.

She remembered what it felt like to hold her little one for the first time, his soft skin, his tiny fingers and toes and his impossibly long eyelashes.

He was perfect, but no screams had come from him.

Unlike all the other babies there that day, he hadn't been born alive.

So much of Emily was happy that JJ was getting to experience becoming the mother of an alive baby for the second time.

One of the most precious things life could offer was in the palms of her friend's hands.

But still, heartache consumed her.

She was devastated that there was still so much life and beauty in the world, when she had just had to experience a death so earth-shattering.

The idea of meeting JJ's baby made Emily's heart race, but still, she agreed to do it, and a few hours later, there she was, sitting on JJ's couch, an evening full of homecooked meals and genuine conversation leading her up to that point.

"Here she is, Auntie Emily" JJ told her with a smile on her face, placing her baby girl into Emily's protective arms.

The older woman's first reaction to that was a chuckle of disbelief she just couldn't hold in.

Her mind twisted at the memory of her own sweet baby, the one that she had been grieving so violently over.

She wasn’t sure what it was, motherly hormones or just pure reality-distorting heartbreak, but she felt like she was holding her late son.

That thought poisoned her mind, the maternal instinct pumping through her veins, her heart intertwining with the one of the baby in her arms.

"She’s perfect" Emily whispered, overcome with emotion.

"She is, isn’t she?" JJ replied with a smile on her face, taking a seat in a chair across the room, keeping an affectionate eye on the two of them.

"You're just the sweetest thing, aren’t you?" Emily then cooed, completely enamored with the infant in her arms.

She felt like she was getting sucked deeper into the sickening hole of motherly grief.

She didn’t feel real anymore and to her, the baby she was holding wasn't JJ's daughter.

It was her son.

Her innocent child she should have protected from all things evil in the world.

Now she had a second chance, and anyone and anything that would have even tried to harm that baby would have died at her hands before being able to come near the child.

"You just need someone to keep your little heart safe, sweet boy" she cooed as she stroked the baby's big, round cheeks with love "You need your mommy to keep you safe".

By that point, JJ had become weary of her friend's behavior, since she had witnessed a shift behind her grieving eyes.

"Will, how about you go upstairs to see if Henry is sleeping?" she decided to tell her husband, mostly wishing to salvage the image of her co-worker, not wanting anyone else to have to witness what she pretty much knew was coming.

"I can protect you, my son" Emily then promised, still looking at the baby with so much love in her eyes "As your mommy, I swear I won’t let anything ever hurt you".

"I think it’s time she goes back to bed, Honey" JJ tried to tell her, wanting to get her baby back into the hands of someone with a more present mind.

"I can’t" Emily replied, her eyes filling up with tears "I can’t have my baby taken from me again".

"Don’t you want us to have our baby back?" Will, who had come back downstairs by that time attempted to ask her.

As a response, however, Emily shook her head.

"No, he is mine!" she then exclaimed "I have to protect my baby!".

"Come on, she needs some rest" JJ told her, gently rubbing her back.

Suddenly, Emily’s brain felt like it could have exploded.

It was so full of heartbreak, confusion and despair.

The thoughts that had been racing through her mind for weeks pounded on the walls of her skull, desperate for an escape from the pain that brewed in her mind.

She just wanted something she could hold on to, something that she could have a second chance at, something that would stay alive.

"No, I can’t" Emily told her, tears streaming down her face by that time.

All the sternness in her voice had disappeared and there was nothing in her tone except pure defeat.

That was when JJ knew she wasn’t just talking about the baby.

She was talking about everything she had experienced since the day she had found out Isaac had passed away.

Everything that had swept her off her feet in the tornado of losing a child.

She couldn’t do it any more.

She couldn’t live with that missing piece in her life.

She couldn’t plaster on a smile and show up to work like she hadn't just lost the person she loved the most.

JJ was careful, removing her baby from Emily’s arms and quickly giving her to her husband, who took her upstairs to give the two women a moment alone.

"I can't do this" Emily sobbed, her figure collapsing entirely against her friend.

Her body heaved violently as everything that had been building up was let go.

The excruciating experience of losing her baby boy had broken her.

Maybe one day there would have been a way out of all the pain she was experiencing, but at that moment, everything around her seemed dark and the only good things were JJ's arms around her and the fact that in a way, she still had her baby boy in her life.

He was watching her from Heaven, loving on his mommy and praying for her to be able to find peace and the strenght to wait until they were meant to meet again.

[harryforvogue]

Part Three | Chapter Nineteen: A Death In The Family

August 1919

Newport, Rhode Island

We're dragging suitcases out from the hotel room, Harry's eyes glued to the glass windows that display everything beneath us. People walking calmly down the street, babies being pushed in their strollers, laughter heard from all these stories below. His eyes don't move even when I shut the door a bit too hard, glancing at him sheepishly and ready to apologize. He doesn't flinch, brows furrowed as he watches the state of Rhode Island habitants.

Unsure about what he's thinking about, I reach over and gently grasp his hand with my free one, tightening my fingers with his. He blinks and glances at me. With a firm squeeze, his wedding ring cuts painfully into my skin, but I don't say anything, nudging my head towards the long hallway to signal our departure.

Harry looks down the hallway and nods. "We're going home," he says.

"Yes," I say, examining his face to see what those words have caused. He doesn't seem upset or happy. It's just a statement. We're going home. "Is there anywhere else you want to go?"

Harry shakes his head. "Is there anywhere you would like to go? I feel as if I've dragged you through this vacation."

I stop walking and smile up at him, shaking my head. "I promise I wasn't dragged anywhere. I went willingly and I loved it."

Something darkens in Harry's eye when he stops walking as well, standing beside me, rigid. For a few seconds, he glances back outside and then turns his body towards me, giving me his undivided attention. He releases my hand and wraps his arms around his torso, insecurely. "But if we weren't to go home, is there a place in mind you'd like to visit?"

"I'd go anywhere with you," I tell him.

The shadow in his eye lightens as his eyebrows raise. To my surprise, a blush passes over his face.

"Oh, God," I gasp comically, reaching out to grab onto his jacket lapels. "Are you blushing, Styles?"

"Shove off," he says, but there's a smile on his face. "You know what I mean. I know you'll go anywhere with me, but I'm talking about right now. Is there anywhere you would like to go?" He pauses and frowns. "Somewhere in a 50 mile radius because we're low on funds."

Would I like to go anywhere else? I think about it for a moment, releasing Harry's jacket and letting my arms fall back to my sides. This country, though I've been here for two years, is foreign to me. It was lucky for me that all the places we visited had familiar faces and I went with Harry, but I couldn't imagine doing it alone. I think there are a lot of places to explore, but right now? Where do I want to be right now?

Harry smiles, leaning against the windows. He puts his suitcase down and holds his hand out. I automatically reach my arm up to put it in his outstretched hand, but the back of his knuckles grazing against my cheek stop me. "Shall we go home then?" Harry says softly, tucking my hair behind my ear.

Yes. That's where I'd like to go. Home, with Harry. I've accepted this new normal. Has he? I study him and his gentle, encouraging smile.

"Are you okay with going home?"

"Of course I am. I think it's time we make it our home."

"Our home?" I say faintly.

He drops his hand and tucks it into his pocket. "I'm a little ashamed to admit this, Annaliese, especially since you had to suffer these past three weeks, but I never really considered that house our home. Of course, it's where we live, but I never...liked being there."

"Why didn't you ever tell me that?"

"You'd be devastated," he says in a voice that suggests his answer is obvious. "If I told you that, you'd be unsure what to do and I never wanted you to be that way with me."

"Right. Still, it's not like you hid it well. I think I just tried to ignore it because it would make me feel like I was doing something wrong. Maybe we shouldn't go back to square one with this conversation."

Harry kisses the top of my head. As we're talking and walking past the rooms, one of them opens somewhere ahead of us. Too immersed in the conversation, we don't notice the figure walking towards us.

Harry jumps at the sound of his name ringing through the hallway. With narrowed eyes, he tries to seek out who's falling him. his defense is up immediately, scanning the area for the enemy who knows him by name,

A man stops in his tracks and looks at Harry and then looks at me, brows furrowed and lips pursed, watching and examining us. He steps forward and repeats, "Harry? Is that you?"

A look of recognition briefly crosses Harry's alert face and he peers down at the shorter man. "I'm sorry, I can't seem to remember your name."

The man's expression clears at the sound of Harry's accent. "Oh, Harry, it is you!" He sticks his hand out and Harry slowly takes it. "I'm James Alderon. Your father's friend. Oh I don't think I've seen you in about, what, 10 years? My, you've grown."

"James Alderon," Harry repeats, shaking his hand. "Yes. Yes I remember you. You lived just in the other town, didn't you?"

"Yes!" James says excitedly. He turns to me. "This is your wife?"

I smile politely at him and feel Harry's hand tighten protectively around mine when I stick my other hand out. "Pleased to meet you. My name is Annaliese."

"Annaliese!" he repeats, patting my hand as he shakes it. "Nice to meet you. Wow, it feels awful to be so happy in a time like this, but I never thought I'd see you both here. I didn't know you lived in here!"

"New York, actually," Harry answers, finally providing a smile. "And yes, these are difficult times, aren't they?"

James takes his hat off and presses it against his chest, expression suddenly sad. He ducks his somewhat bald head down and then picks it back up, a respectful gesture, but Harry slants me a confused look instead. I offer him a startled shrug in return.

James continues when he looks up, "Yes, well, everyone goes through it. We can't expect them to be around forever, right? I remember when it was my relative. You don't get over the burden, but it definitely gets better as time goes on."

"Yes," Harry says slowly, one eyebrow twitching. "It's quite difficult, isn't it?"

I know Harry has no idea what the hell this man is talking about.

"It is. And it happened when you were so young!" James puts a hand on Harry's shoulder and my urge to laugh immediately dissipates. Harry's hand tenses in mine and then squeezes tightly to the point where I have to touch our linked fingers with my other hand to silently beg him to let go. He does and then runs his run over my palm as an apology.

James doesn't stop there. "Well, my wife and I would be happy to help if you need anything. Here!" He rummages through his pocket and pulls out a pen and his business card. He scribbles his address down and hands it over to Harry. "Please don't hesitate to come by. My wife makes the most amazing shepherd's pie. Do visit us, yes?"

"Thank you," I answer, smiling brightly at James. He nods, satisfied, putting his hat back on his head. "If we're ever back in the city, we will definitely come visit you. It's nice to see a friendly face. We're quite far from home, aren't we?"

"We are," James agrees, sighing deeply. "And now this trial is placed on you two. I can't imagine--"

"I'm sorry," Harry interjects a bit suddenly, "I didn't ask when you arrived in America."

The shorter man glances at Harry, removing a handkerchief to wipe sweat from his forehead and neck. "Unfortunately during the war, my business went under and we're here to start fresh. Like you two, it was a risk to come here, but with the grace of God, we've been doing quite well for the past three months. It's my wife and I's wedding anniversary."

Harry nods, but doesn't look satisfied. He's very perplexed.

James says, "Well, I must be off now, but Harry." He reaches out and touches his arm again, patting roughly. "Your father was a very strict man, but there's no doubt he loved you very much. I'm so terribly sorry for your loss. So sorry. Have a good night, both of you."

He smiles at me once more but I can't remember if I smiled back or not. Then, he walks around us and I hear his footsteps become fainter and fainter. I stare at the place he stood, frozen, afraid to check Harry's reaction.

Harry's father? Fear strikes through me. After last night, will this news ruin Harry's progress? More grief piled on top of the already existing grief must be excruciating, and a death of a parent nonetheless. Oh, God, Harry.

Harry's hand slips from my grasp, alerting me, and I feel him sway so I jump into action and stand in front of him, holding my arms out in a "stop'' gesture.

Harry looks at me blankly. "What are you doing?"

I put my arms down. "I thought you were gonna fall."

His expression is unreadable, eyes distant already. He's looking at me, but just barely. "Annaliese. Did he just say my father is dead?"

"Yes. He did. Oh, God. Harry I'm so--"

He raises his hand and inhales sharply. "Don't say sorry to me." His fingers quickly loosen his tie, stumbling and getting his fingers caught in the fabric. He undoes the buttons of his coat. "Can you check my pulse?"

I take his arm and place two fingers on his neck. A steady, strong pulse. His skin, however, is clammy and he looks as if he's about to either vomit or collapse. "You're okay, Harry," I say hesitantly, running the back of my hand along his neck to catch his sweat. "Let's go outside and get some air. You look pale."

Harry blinks slowly, not moving. And then he frowns. "Did I hurt your hand? Show me." He reaches for my own wrist and examines my fingers, adjusting the wedding band.

"I'm okay," I gently tell him, holding onto his arm. "Harry, I think you're in shock so let's go outside."

"I don't... I don't know how to get there. Annaliese, he said my father is dead."

I begin to tug him. "I'll help you."

"You said I'm in shock. I'm not. When you're in shock, there's a medical procedure," Harry says when I force him to sit on the bench outside of the hotel. I unbutton his buttons and give him room to breathe. His chest is rising and falling much more quickly, but he doesn't show the discomfort on his face, just, well, shock.

"I didn't mean physically," I assure him, pushing his hair back. "I mean you were shocked. That's very frightening news. Look at me." His vision flickers over to me. "Talk to me."

Harry faintly blinks. "Talk to you about what? I'm not upset."

Despite his words, Harry's eyes well up with tears and he rests his hand on the area his father wounded, eyes wider than before. Now, it settles in. His breath hitches in his throat and he looks at me for quick assurance, which I apply to him, resting a hand over his face, kissing his forehead gently.

"He's dead," Harry says, swallowing. "Gone. I'm not going to see him again."

Once Harry's tears start, they don't stop, but he's also not openly crying or sobbing. The tears just flow from his eyes as if small rivers flowing downstream, nothing in their path or anything to stop their journey.

"Did he say how he died? I don't remember."

"He didn't," I tell him, gently wiping his face with my handkerchief. "Do you want water?" I get up and put my bag besides Harry to show someone is still sitting there. "I'll get some water. Hold on, just—"

"No," Harry quickly says, grabbing my wrist firmly. "Don't. Sit down."

I do, worry spreading through me. He's quiet again, and I know what comes with him when he's quiet.

But I give him some time to gather his thoughts, his knee bouncing with anxiety and nervousness. Finally, he looks at me while I'm staring at his hand on my wrist.

"Annaliese. I just want to go home."

I pick my head up and look at him, his eyes still shimmering with tears. My shoulders fall, hands gently holding his face. "I know, mon cœur. And I will get you there, I promise."

He's frantically blinking. "Right now?"

"Absolutely."

"I want to go. I want our bed. I don't want to think about him."

I slowly stand up, monitoring his reaction. I hold my hand out and let him slide his hand from my wrist to my fingers, nodding at him once.

"Let's go to the station. Just four hours and we'll be home, okay? Can you hang in there for four hours?"

Harry looks at me confusedly as if my words aren't making sense to him. "Yes," his mouth says. "If you're there with me."

***

Harry's been very quiet, but after an hour on the train passes and he's had some food in him, he turns to me and reaches for my hand, bringing it into his lap. I've been ready to give him my full attention, but when he stopped answering me, I thought it would be best to give him some space.

"I don't know how I feel."

I squeeze his hand, swallowing the hard lump in my throat. "He was still your parent."

"Exactly," Harry says, expression taking a turn. He's angry, I realize with a sinking heart, his cheeks red and his eyes blazing. "Just because he was my father doesn't mean I should feel upset about it. But I do feel upset. I want to cry, Annaliese, but I also don't want to. I don't want to feel this way for a man who hurt me for no reason."

Harry glances up at the ceiling of the train, working on his breathing to keep himself calm. his hand is getting more sweaty by the minute.

"He wasn't a father to me, but he was still human and when I think about him, I have memories of him in my mind because he existed in my life. And he was there during the worst times, but Annaliese, the problem was that he was there and I'm the person I am today because of him."

"You aren't suggesting you're not a good person, are you?" I quickly interfere. "Harry. You are the person you are today because of your mother, your sister, your friends, and all the wonderful people you have met in your life. They make you up, not your father."

My words are getting to Harry's head but I'm not sure if they're sticking. "He was such a bad person."

"He was. And his death does not mean you forgive him for what he's done to you, okay? You are in no way obligated to mourn someone who caused you pain just because he was your parent."

Harry takes a deep breath and looks back at me. "So why do I feel sad?"

The sound of his voice makes sad as well, a slight whimper to his words. "Why do I feel so sad if he hurt me so bad? I don't want to feel this way. I want to be happy."

"Because," I tell him softly, "he was still your father. Do you remember that night in London when it was raining really hard and you told me that you'd rather have your father than one like mine. Having a bad father is better than having none at all."

"I was very stupid for saying that," Harry says with a crack in his voice. "I'm sorry that I said that."

I shake my head. "The point is that you still believe that and I understand. He was bad, but he was a parent, and those are big shoes that nobody can fill except the parents who are assigned to you. We're not allowed to pick who our parents are, Harry."

"He couldn't realize that when he decided to have me? I didn't have a choice in the matter either, so why couldn't he have used his choice and not have had me?"

"Oh, Harry, but then I wouldn't have been born either. You told me years ago that we were born for each other."

His nose is red as well as his eyes. He's biting on the inside of his cheek, sniffling softly. "You're right. If I wasn't born, I wouldn't have met you. I think meeting you was the best thing I could have done."

My heart jumps to my throat. I will never get used to him saying things like that again.

"And you're right that he had an impact on me, even if it were a bad one. I think I'm also sad because I'm mourning my younger self. He was so small and stupid. I was just a kid thinking all adults were like him. I can't believe how dumb I was."

I rest my head on his shoulder. "We're all dumb when we're young. We learn from our parents and what we see is what we think the world is like."

"The world is like my father," Harry says quietly, turning his head to look out the window. "Nobody cares about anybody unless they do something for you. It's like the war. Nobody's ever done anything to wrong me from the enemy line, yet I'm fighting someone else's battle. Why should I do that? I used to think about this all the time at night. Why am I fighting on someone else's behalf, and you know what I realized? It's because all the people who wage the wars are cowards who tell us to go to fight. If we don't we're the cowards, but what normal person wouldn't be scared of walking to their death? I would talk about this with my company. Especially Nedjem because he was so young.

"We'd tell him that the world isn't really like this and not to become a pessimist, but the world is in fact like this. Everything is a transaction. You lose your soul to win something for the bigger picture, but have I ever cared for those things? The transaction is unfair. And now I'm left with all these memories and I don't know what to do with them but endure them because they're not currently happening but it's all in my head still.

"It's the same with my father. I haven't been in contact with him for years and as far as I'm concerned, he's been in the past for all those years, but I've kept those memories of him. And it's unfair because everything that happened has been unwillingly. I didn't ask for all those things to happen and I should be allowed to be angry about it, right? I didn't ask to be beat by him, I didn't ask to go to war, I didn't ask for my friends to die, and I didn't ask to hurt you all those months, but it happened, and it's still happening and I don't know how to stop it."

I listen, biting down on my lower lip to keep it from trembling.

"I know it'll stop one day, though," Harry continues, sniffling once more. "Because I have good things too. And I try to tell myself that it's really healthy to have those little things, those little happy memories, but why are the bad memories always the most unforgettable ones? Life is unfair, Annaliese."

"It is," I agree quietly. "I'm really sorry, Harry. I wish I could take it all away."

"Me too. I've got you though. I'd rather have you than a hundred other people."

I twist my head into his neck and inhale his scent softly, pushing myself closer when he wraps his arms around me and kisses the top of my head.

"You're all I need," I whisper, holding onto his dog tags.

"Let's make some friends. Literally. We can have two children and we'll be good for the rest of our life, friend-wise."

I pull back in shock and eye him. "That's your worst idea yet, Styles."

Harry quietly laughs and then takes a deep breath. "You're right."

"Have you changed your mind about children?"

"Hmm? No, not at all. Not just because I wouldn't want any, but it's the same reason we talked about earlier. That child wouldn't have a choice in picking its parent and I am not in the right state to be a parent. Why would I impose that on a child?"

"That's very true," I say. "Was that the reason why you didn't want to have kids before too? We used to talk about it."

"It was that. Partially. The other part was that I just hate children."

Giggling, I hold his jaw, tilting his head down towards me. I press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth and then his bottom lip.

"I missed your weird humor."

"Humor?" Harry asks, eyes shining. "I am completely serious."

"You work with children!"

"That's different. I'm not raising them. I'm teaching. I don't want those things in my house."

"Fair enough."

"You're the same way."

"I don't hate children!"

Harry nods. "You're good with them. But I'm glad we agree on that at least. Children are just not for us."

"What about a pet?"

"What kind of pet?"

"Maybe a cat?"

Harry thinks about it for a long time. "Maybe two cats."

"I like that idea."

We look out the window at the passing ocean, holding each other, eyes squinted due to the intensity of the sun. Harry occasionally presses kisses to my temple and after a while later, I close my eyes, too tired to keep them opening and staring into the sun.

"Thank you for coming with me," Harry softly says some time later, his chest vibrating. "And thank you for not giving up on me."

"The day I give up on you is the day hell freezes over. You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not."

Harry chuckles and doesn't say anything more.

***

By the time we arrive at home, it's well into the afternoon and Harry and I are both dragging ourselves into our home. Unlocking the door is like a breath of fresh air. We both inhale and place our bags down.

After we both shower, Harry and I find ourselves in the bedroom we used to sleep in that just became mine after he returned from the Western Front. To my surprise, Harry doesn't say anything, rolling his bag in and starting to take his clothes out. He removes the dirty clothes and separates them on the floor, intently working.

And when he's finished, he takes all his clothes and begins putting them in our closest. Catching on, I also begin putting my stuff away on my side, biting back a smile whenever I pass Harry. We're both finished just half an hour later, looking at our room proudly. Harry turns and looks at me with bright eyes, raising an eyebrow questioningly at me.

"Thank you," I whisper, wrapping him in a hug. My arms ache from how hard I hold him and then my ribs hurt from how he returns the hug. "You're everything to me."

Harry presses a soft kiss to my cheek and whispers back, "We're finally home, Annaliese. Come lay with me. I'm so tired."

[rachelhargrovearchived]

"Honestly? It makes me feel a lot worse to know that I just didn't even factor into your thoughts once. After I had told you how I felt about you. That's pretty shitty to know how little I mean." Rachel had thought by telling him her feelings he'd needed time to think through it when he said he'd needed time. And she'd stupidly waited and waited and waited until now where he confessed that he hadn't been thinking about it at all. She wiped at her eyes, her breath still shaking as it dawned on her even more how insignificant her existence was to Max. She hated allowing herself to get so worked up at the idea, but having thought they were significant to one another it really was only making her realize more just how little she'd meant to him from the start.

She felt her heart squeezing in her chest as she listened to him share once again how he'd felt in those months and Rachel just had no way of turning back time. Rachel just stayed silent, looking at the ground as he spoke, her eyes shut as she tried to focus all her energy to this moment. At his question she felt herself laugh through tears, shaking her head. "I don't know. I'm horrible with closure. They say time is suppose to heal all wounds. Sometimes that's true. I just was mistaken that you felt something towards me too. And honestly it's pretty hurtful to be told all I wanted from you was sex when I told you quite a bit about myself and I thought you liked me for it. But like I said, I must have misread the situation. Because you're making it out to seem like all we were was friends. So I guess I just need to compartmentalize what I thought was happening with what actually was happening." Rachel was also horrible at compartmentalizing too, she was really quite terrible at a lot of things. She was wonderful about feeling things though, just for people who didn't feel them back.

Rachel had thought that this information was so significant of a bond that they shared but now it just all felt like she'd held it back for him and none of it really mattered anymore. Her shoulders sagged a bit as she knew that this wasn't really going to bond them together much anymore. But at least someone would know it and maybe that might be good. "Ever since I can remember, the thought of being a mother was always part of the plan. About five years ago after years of trying with my husband, we decided it would be good to go to a fertility specialist. My husband was in lovely health, my uterus was a hostile environment for a baby. I was diagnosed with endometriosis and was told that I was not a good case for any type of IVF or other treatments. And I know there's adoption and surrogate and plenty of other ways to be a mother, but the news that I couldn't carry a baby, something I'd just thought was a fact for me was devastating and instead of looking for the support of my husband, I shut him out. I felt horrible about myself and I hated myself and thought that he deserved better than me even if he told me that wasn't the case and then I filed for a divorce, the loss was too great of a barrier then for me to pass." She tried her best to breathe, realizing just how emotional this still made her. "When I moved here it was after a year of regretting the decision to divorce him and there was quite a lot of stress and a lot of things I was going through that I hadn't realized how much pain physically I was in. I go to meet my new gynecologist and in the first visit they see something abnormal. A week later I learned I had stage 2 ovarian cancer. I had surgery and they took out my ovaries and fallopian tubes. I've been in remission for two years now, but it left me feeling even more...barren. I can't understand the type of loss you went through and I very much wanted something before I was told I couldn't have it, but I also am never going to have it the way I dreamed up in my head when I was a little girl, and my heart is never not going to ache when I see a pregnant woman or hold a sweet little baby. Like I said, I know there's other options and I am not putting my nose up at those options because they're wonderful and maybe some day I will, but I don't know if I'll never not feel broken in some way."

@max-cortez

Who was he to tell her how she felt? All he knew was that doing such a thing had not been an intentional move. A vertical crease formed between his brows, confusion and frustration settling deep in his bones. His lack of romantic experience, at least in the sense of official, was little excuse to the damage he'd inadvertently caused. While she waited for something more, he'd been looking elsewhere without a second thought. It was unfair, but in his defense, he hadn't known better. "It was never about not caring or having no respect for you. I didn't know that you were waiting on that conversation and I don't know if that makes any difference, but I didn't mean to make you feel like you didn't matter." His tongue moved to moisten the side of his mouth which now felt far too dry. While he couldn't return the feelings she wanted, or step up to be the man she had wanted him to be, he wanted to remain friends, given that she had any interest in all at such.

The tattoo artist sucked in a shallow breath, his teeth nipping at the inside of his cheek as he called back on the months prior. Months where he'd been wrapped up in another woman, the woman who had been the mother of his child, and how the rest of the world had faded away. "What we went through was difficult. I didn't know how much I wanted something until I didn't have it anymore. I wasn't trying to play a game or string you along." Honesty had never been a problem for him, despite what their conversation seemed to convey. Had he known that those very words were what she needed to hear, he would have spoken them. "And how do you get closure?" It was a quiet request, one he wondered if she even knew how to answer.

He waited for the truth to come, but when it didn't, he frowned. Was it a lack of trust, or was she asking him to wait until fire wasn't coursing through her veins? "If you don't want to tell me, I get it, but you can't drop something like that and then leave it be." Or she could and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

@rachelhargrove