I cry for the loss of my chance to show her she didn’t break me.
I cry for the loss of never getting to scream my pain back at her.
I cry for the loss of the woman who gave me life.
I cry for the loss of never feeling a mother’s love.
I cry for the loss of my mother.
Because at the end of the day, she was my mother and I loved her.
The sky weeps with me, washing away the ashes that are left after I have burned away every fear, insecurity, and ounce of pain andsorrow this woman left me with. I realize at this moment that I have been chasing something that has been right here within me all along. I have been chasing a rebirth. Waiting for some grand apology or confrontation to finally feel like I have shed my past and become who I was always meant to be. But the chase was pointless, because here I am, at my mother’s grave, and I see that it was in me from the beginning. I didn’t need to run. I just needed to stay still. I didn’t need to chase my phoenix. She was always within me. I just needed to accept her.
My skin is wet, my curls are drenched, my body is tired. But my mind is quiet. Finally.
My past is there. It always will be.
But it's quiet. It’s settled.
It’s not my cage anymore.
I stand, letting the rain fall over my face, looking up and spreading my arms wide. I’m free. And despite everything, my cries turn to laughter.
“Where is she, Gage?”
“Still in Aurora. Been there since last night.” I can hear his keys clacking on his keyboard. He is vigilant. A hawk in the sky, keeping watch over her. Now that we have her number, he was able to track her cell phone. I won’t let her disappear this time. She’s running, and I understand why.
The way she looked at me when Nat made her announcement. It was like she was feeling safe, re-building brick by brick with me, and then a fucking wrecking ball came in and destroyed all her trust. It hurt almost as much as her leaving the first time. But this time, she can’t hide from us.
I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for her, especially now that I know she can’t have any more children. She is aware that I have always wanted a big family, and she is probably thinking that Nat can give me that. And she isn’t wrong. But I don’t want Nat. I want her.
I want my son.
I want my daughter.
I want my phoenix.
She just has to realize that I can and will have them all. It’s not going to be easy. This clusterfuck of a situation is exactly that—a painful mess—but I lost Leo once, and I cannot do it again. So as much as she wants to make this decision for me by removing herself, I won’t let her.
I’m on shift now, so I can’t reach out as much as I want to, but I have been sending text after text, reminding her that I am still here.
I go to a storage closet and dial Ski. I know he will keep me posted on her, even if she won’t reply.
“Hey, Ev. She’s still here.” I can hear the change in his voice at having Leo in his presence. I can hear it because I know exactly what it feels like. She lifts and relieves our burdens and worries. Just having her close is life changing.
“I know. I’m tracking her.”
He gives a soft chuckle at this. “I figured as much. Just thought I would tell you anyway.”
“How bad is it, Ski? Don’t sugarcoat it. She won't reply to my texts or calls.”
“You haven’t lost her yet, boy. But you two have some serious talking to do.”
“I’m aware. I just have to get her to talk to me first.” I run my hand down my face. Stubborn woman.
“She went to her mom, Ev. It may be a little bit before she can face you. She had some personal healing she needed to do before she could heal the wounds that you and Natasha have caused.”
“How is she, after that?”
