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“Couldn’t we do this on a different day when I look better? Vinny, I just gave birth. I look terrible.” She shakes her head and holds the baby to her chest. That’s Vincent’s son.
She’s standing by the door. It’s the front door of the house, but I don’t think it’s this house.
“So, the first thing I want my son to know is his mother is a goddess and will always look beautiful to me, even when she thinks she doesn’t.” That’s him again, his voice, but I don’t recognize the lightheartedness and love in the tone. “Sorcha, just give your message. He’s two days old. What do you want him to remember most about today?”
Sorcha smiles and looks back at him. Her eyes come alive when she holds her baby closer.
“I want him to know how much I love him and that his father is the love of my life,” she answers, and then I hear something snap. The sound drowns out everything else as I turn to Vincent and see he’s snapped the ballerina in half.
He does it again. This time, blood trickles from his hand. He growls and grabs the remote, switching the TV off.
As he whirls around to face me, face hardened and teeth bared, I rise to my feet and swallow hard, feeling terrible for my intrusion on his privacy. I feel worse and shock fills me when a tear tracks down his cheek.
It’s then that I know. I know deep down what happened to her.
She died.
“Get out!” Vincent snarls, furious. “Fucking get out!”
Shame fills me as I rush out.
It takes me to my room, and I wish I could run away, run outside and never come back.
I’m bound here as long as I owe him.
And I just made things worse.
Chapter Sixteen
Vincent
“Fuck!” I bellow and throw the remains of the fucking figurine into the wall. The shards of glass bounce off it because there’s nothing left to break. Nothing left to crack.
A little like me.
I’ve played that video one time only. It was when I set up this room. It was just after I moved here.
I wanted Sorcha to have something, something that said I didn’t forget her. I couldn’t stay at the old house after what happened.
I barely went back to move out. Within weeks after her death, I got this place and moved away from the nightmare of what happened to my girl.
The last time I played that video, it left me in a mess. The same mess threatens to take me now.
It was hearing her voice. Hearing it on the TV, like she’s here. Like nothing ever happened. That day I made that video felt like we had forever to look forward to.
It took us five years to get pregnant with Timothy, and we went through so much we called him our miracle baby. We were planning to have more children, and that day felt like the start of something amazing I would share with her forever.
I never knew it wouldn’t be.
I wipe away another tear and feel disgusted with myself. Look at me crying like a pussy. Look at me pathetic.
When am I going to stop feeling like this?
Sorcha's gone. Forever. I can't bring her back, and I can't do anything.
I’m just left here blaming myself.
And damn Ava. Why the fuck did she come in here?
