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Even though my insides feel like someone has dented them with my stamping hammer, I can’t help but smile at the goofy man pretending to lose his balance so the little girl wins the game. There’s nothing wrong with Lucas’s balance. The man is a brick wall in a strong wind.
The love in his eyes…oh, God, the love in his eyes as he looks at her.
An image of him cuddling a tiny baby in a pink blanket flickers in my mind, robs me of my breath.
Who is she? The little girl.
Oblivious to me standing here, staring at them, the duo hops along the sidewalk like bunnies. Then he lifts her onto his shoulders and they walk away.
I don’t follow.
I just stand on the spot as though Medusa had strolled through the neighborhood and turned me into a statue.
But while my body might have turned to stone, my mind is buzzing like a swarm of bees. I have no idea who the little girl is. It doesn’t matter who she is. What matters is the pure joy on Lucas’s face while he was playing with her.
He looked at her as though she were his daughter.
The daughter I can never give him.
I should just get in my car and drive home. But my legs have other plans, and I walk along the sidewalk until I end up at a small park.
I sit on a bench and watch the young kids running and giggling, but not close enough for anyone to see me struggling because of the daughter I failed.
The gentle fingers of the midafternoon sun caress my face like an angel absorbing my grief. It helps a little, but it’s not enough. I’m not sure anything will ever be enough.
Several mothers are sitting together on a bench near the playground equipment, keeping an eye on the kids. The women’s smiles are echoed on their children’s glowing faces.
This is the life I’d once dreamed of, the life I’ll never have.
Deep down I know it shouldn’t matter. My business is flourishing. I’m more in control of my career than I’ve ever been. And I’m married to a man I love. He might not love me in return, but maybe eventually that will change.
But even though it shouldn’t matter that I can’t have children, a gnawing pain chews me up from the inside. I rest my hand on my lower belly and stroke my thumb where Lily used to be.
A tear drops.
So does another.
Things won’t get any easier over the next few weeks as I approach the anniversary of her death, followed two weeks later by the anniversary of Aiden ending his life. My grief will consume me. A grief for what I once had but lost in a heartbeat. Lost when someone got behind the wheel when he shouldn’t have.
That much never changes.
“Hi!” A little girl is standing in front of where I’m sitting. Her hair’s tied in two auburn braids, and she’s wearing a T-shirt with little duckies on it. “Hi! HiHiHiHiHiHi!”
“Hi,” I reply, smiling at her. It’s hard not to. I sniff and dry my face with my fingertips.
“HiHiHiHiHiHi!” She lifts her stuffed floppy chick for me to see. Clearly, she has a thing for birds.
“That’s a cute birdie. Does she have a name?”
“HiHiHiHiHiHi!”
“Hazel,” a woman says, approaching us. I assume she’s referring to the girl, not the toy.
“HiHiHiHiHiHiHi!” Hazel holds her arms up to the woman who I’m guessing is her mother. They have the same hair color.
The woman picks up her daughter and studies me for a second. “Haven’t seen you here before.” Her voice holds a silent warning. A mother-bear warning. And I flinch at what she must be thinking.
“I live in Maple Ridge. I was just driving through and thought I’d stop to get some air.”
