I was happy.
I was laughing.
I could not believe they were with me again.
For those few moments, I felt whole in a way I had not felt in two years. There was no weight in my chest, no guilt choking me, no constant ache hollowing me out from the inside.
There was only them.
Only us.
A few moments later, Chloe hugged me and said, “It is not your fault, Daddy. Don’t blame yourself.”
Then Eva stood beside me and kissed me. Her hazel eyes looked deep into mine, and I felt the presence of her love as clearly as if she were truly there.
“I love you. We are both fine, and we miss you. We are watching over you every day. It’s time to let us go. Stop blaming yourself and find love again.”
Then they started walking away.
I tried to follow them, but my feet would not move. It felt as if they were rooted in the ground. Panic gripped my chest like a vise. I yelled out to them because I wanted to move, wanted to hold them, wanted to touch their faces, wanted to kiss Eva one last time and run my fingers through Chloe’s hair. Desperation ripped through me so violently that even in the dream, it felt unbearable.
They smiled and waved at me and then disappeared into the light.
The dream felt so real that when I woke up, I could still feel the ache of losing them all over again. A crushing pressure pressed against my ribs like a fist. I sat there for a few seconds in the darkness, breathing hard, trying to collect myself. Sorrow flooded my chest like water breaking through a dam.
I got out of bed and walked to my daughter’s room.
It was the first time I had stepped inside since the accident.
I sat down on her bed.
The white letters of her name on the pink wall stared back at me, and something inside me cracked open. I reached for her pillow and blanket and touched them carefully, almost reverently. The fabric was soft beneath my fingers, and that simple touch nearly undid me.
Her dollhouse stood in the corner, and the sight of it brought back memories of all the times I had sat on that floor playingtea party with her and her friends. I could almost hear her voice telling me which cup was mine and which stuffed animal needed more cake.
Tears rolled down my cheeks before I even realized they had started.
When I saw her clothes hanging in the closet, I stood and walked toward them.I touched her favourite yellow dress and brought it close enough to smell. The familiar scent of the baby powder Eva always used on her drifted into my nose. For the first time in a long time, I smiled through my tears. It was a small, broken smile, but it was real.
Wiping my nose, I left Chloe’s room and walked into my bedroom, straight to Eva’s closet. The scent of her clothes hit me immediately, and with it came a rush of memories so strong it almost knocked the breath out of me. I stood there for a long moment, letting myself feel all of it. Then I went into the bathroom. Her perfumes and makeup were still sitting on the counter exactly where she had left them.
Fresh tears rolled down my blotchy skin.
I walked back into the bedroom, sat on the bed, and covered my face with my hands for a moment because the weight of everything felt too big to carry.
Then I felt warmth spread through my body, almost as if someone were hugging me.
My shoulders relaxed.
I looked toward the sunrise filtering through the curtains, and I wrapped my arms around myself. For the first time in years, I felt a release of tension in my body. My heart felt full instead of hollow. Hope flickered inside me like the first light after a long night. It was quiet and fragile, but it was there. I could not explain it, and I did not want to question it too closely in case it vanished.
I knew then that it was time.
The next day,I checked myself into a private detox centre. It was going to be a sixty-day program. I was not worried about the restaurant because it would be ready by the time I got out. Jiya had told Jack that she had everything under control.
I needed to take care of myself.
It was not easy admitting that, but I knew I had to do it. I wanted to change. I wanted to get better. More than that, I was finally exhausted enough from living half-dead that the idea of trying to live again no longer scared me more than staying the same.
