AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Aero remembered her pink bedroom and white toddler bed. They had called it her princess bed. He’d put it together himself on her third birthday because she was a big girl and had outgrown her crib. He swallowed hard, bittersweet images flitting through his mind of Nora jumping up and down on the tiny mattress, insisting Aero lay on it with her even though he was too big, and readingGoodnight Moonto her at bedtime.
He could still hear her little voice say, “I love you, Daddy,” and it made a tear escape, trailing down his cheek. He wiped it away and continued.
“Once she was settled, Sarah and I went to bed. I had a nightmare.”
His words were so quiet that Sam almost didn’t hear them over the waves crashing on the shore.
“I woke Nora up.” Aero whimpered slightly. “I didn’t mean to. Her room was right beside ours, and, you know, I was loud.”
“You didn’t do it on purpose, love,” Sam interjected, not liking the way he was blaming himself. Of course, she understood why he did. She could sympathize with the guilt and the belief that if he weren’t afflicted with those nightmares, Nora would still be there. A knot pulled tight in Sam’s gut as he continued his tale.
“Sarah and I couldn’t get her back to sleep. We tried everything, but she just kept crying,” Aero said, hearing Nora’s sobs clearly in his mind as if she were on the beach with him, little hands reaching out for comfort. He shuddered.
“Sarah thought she might fall asleep if they went for a drive. Nora, since day one, had always fallen asleep in the car. It didn’t matter if you drove five blocks or five hours, she fell asleep.” His lips twitched into a slight smile as he remembered her little face, serene in sleep as her head lolled against her car seat, little blonde pigtails poking out on either side.
“So they went for a drive,” Sam prompted, and Aero nodded.
“Sarah went without me. She wasn’t exactly happy that I’d woken Nora up.” Closing his eyes, he remembered Sarah’s tired blue eyes and the half-hearted smile she’d given him on her way out the door. The guilt gnawed at him, sharp teeth of remorse leaving raw, seeping wounds on his soul.
“They never came back,” Aero choked out, and Sam gasped, clutching his bicep.
“I was wide awake,” he said. “I didn’t sleep much back then. I still don’t.”
“I know,” Sam said softly.
“About an hour after they left, the cops showed up.” His stomach lurched, just as it had at the sight of two uniformed officers on their doorstep. He shook his head, feeling the cool, salty ocean breeze graze his skin, and pushed on. “They were hit by a drunk driver. The bastard t-boned the car on the driver’s side. He hit both of them directly.”
Sam was crying, silent tears dripping down her cheeks as her shoulders trembled and her heart broke with every word.
“The cops took me to the hospital. Sarah was already gone, but Nora…” Aero’s voice broke. “She was in critical condition. They put her in the pediatric ICU. I stayed with her.”
Sam couldn’t breathe. His story was coming out in such fast, choppy sentences that she was having a hard time keeping up.
“After a few days,” he shuddered, “they said she wasn’t gonna wake up.”
Sam covered her mouth with one hand, clutching his hand tightly with the other.
“I had to decide if I wanted to keep her on life support or let her go,” Aero whispered, and Sam let out a sob. She thought about her students, about Levi and Ashlyn, and the babies she might have one day. No parent should ever have to make that choice, and more than anything, she wanted to go back in time and hold Aero while he had his whole world torn to pieces in just a few short hours.
“My sisters were there,” Aero said, “and my parents. They loved Nora.”
“Of course they did.”
“I wanted to keep her alive. I thought if I could just have one little piece of them, then everything would be okay, you know?” Aero wiped at his eyes, but it was of no use. He was crying now, his shoulders shaking as he spoke his truth to the darkness of the sea.
Sam sat up straighter and pulled him to her, holding him tightly as he cried into the crook of her neck. Rubbing his back, she shushed him gently, feeling the tidal wave of agony escape him.
Aero cried for several minutes, the crashing of the waves covering the sounds of his pain.
He sniffed, sitting up and looking down at Sam. “They told me it wasn’t fair, that keeping Nora alive wasn’t the best thing for her, and I… I needed to let her go.”
Sam nodded. That was no life for a toddler, not breathing on their own or opening their eyes, never feeling the sunshine on their face or the grass tickling their bare feet.
Sam imagined a sterile hospital room, the sounds of medical equipment, and the hushed tones of doctors and nurses who had lost hope. She shivered, thinking instead of her classroom, with the colorful curtains and plethora of children’s books, the whimsical decorations dangling from the ceiling, and the little primary-colored chairs. That was where children belonged, not in a hospital bed.
“It was a Tuesday morning. I held Nora like this,” he said, showing Sam how he had cradled his baby against his chest, “and told her over and over that I loved her. Then, they turned off the machines.”
Sam let the tears flow, gripping Aero’s hand tight as he took on a strange, almost pensive expression.
