Chasing Forever(Chasing Series #4)(24)

I did as she asked, stepping forward to sit on the wheat colored, linen rocking chair.

She made a cooing sound, comforting her. "Papa is here, mi angel." She then angled her body low, handing the baby over, while I nervously tried to cradle her in my arms in an awkward manner before shifting her a bit to lean against my chest, pressing her cute cheek on it.

The nurses stayed for a few minutes, making sure I had everything I needed before they gave me their kind sympathies and exited the room.

I couldn't stop staring at her with such profound feelings of love and wonderment-fear and pain. My heart broke even more when she puckered up her lips and made a sucking sound.

"She's precious, isn't she?" I looked up and found Lucy halfway across from me with disheveled hair and red cheeks, watching me with tears streaming down her face.

She made a small nod before coming towards us, stopping a few steps away as if she wanted to be here, and yet, she wanted to give me space to mourn as well.

"She's beautiful, Toby."

This would be all of what I would remember her by. There wouldn't be photos of her first tooth, the first step, first birthday …  I wished that there was some small something I could do to make her live. Watching her tiny, fragile frame, I felt that it was all my fault she hadn't been carried full-term. The reason why she was dying, too, because, at twenty-one weeks gestational age, she didn't have the necessary immune system that could shield her from infection and all other dangers.   





 

"When I first saw her, I asked her one thing, and that was not to give up on me yet." Gazing over her sweet face, I ingrained it in my memory, knowing that I would forever miss this little angel of mine. "She tried …  all I asked was for her to try, and she did … "

She was swaddled with a warm, pink cloth. Her small, frail body so warm and so light, weighing almost nothing, as if she was made of air.

"She's a good girl, but she doesn't have enough energy to keep fighting. She probably misses her mom."

Just then, I saw her eyes blossom slowly, lifting open. Dark eyes stared right at me, as if she knew, too-that we didn't have that much time to get to know each other. Wetness pooled at my eyes as I cherished this amazing encounter I had with my baby.

Reaching for her arm, her hand somewhat hung on to my forefinger as she blinked at me.

"Hi, sweet pea," I murmured, choking on tears.

This …  this was killing me inside. I wanted to save this tiny, beautiful girl, and yet, I didn't have the power to do anything. It was out of my hands.

Just as the doctor had ordered, I started to say a prayer.

Her eyes penetrated my heart, and I hoped to God that, whatever happened after death, someone or something would guide her, make sure that she'd be safe and secure and out of harm's way.

Extreme sorrow racked my body as I slowly rocked the chair, lulling her with my warmth, comfort and blanket of love.

My heart spoke, reciting a sweet poem I had read before by some unknown poet.



I felt an angel near today,

Though one I could not see.

I felt an angel, oh so close,

Sent to comfort me.



I felt an angel's kiss,

Soft upon my cheek.

And oh, without a single word

Of caring did it speak.



I felt an angel's loving touch,

Soft upon my heart.

And with that touch,

I felt the pain and hurt within depart.



I felt an angel's tepid tears,

Fall softly next to mine.

And knew that as those tears did dry

A new day would be mine.



I felt an angel's silken wings

Enfold me with pure love.

And felt a strength within me grow,

A strength sent from above.



I felt an angel, oh so close,

Though one I could not see.

I felt an angel near today,

Sent to comfort me.



From a distance, I could hear Lucy softly sobbing. Her sadness made mine a hundred times worse than imaginable, but I could deal with my pain later. Every second counted with my baby, and I didn't want to waste thinking about my own misery when she herself might be in grave pain from declining bodily functions, a simple thing like breathing.

"Don't be afraid, little one. Mama's going to be there to meet you. She'll start taking care of you from now on, okay?" She opened tiny slits of dark brown eyes before closing them again. "You have nothing to worry about any longer. It's going to be fine." My thumb brushed below her bottom lip, noting that it was the same width as my fingernail. She was so adorable. So beautiful. And I wanted to keep her more than anything.

The next time she tried to open her eyelids, she barely lifted them halfway. I couldn't describe it, though by some unforeseen power or maybe just instincts, I knew she was almost there. She was hurting and I knew I had to let go.

"Try not to forget me. You're in my heart. I'll always remember you."

My lips touched her forehead, soft and warm. "Goodbye, little princess," I chokingly whispered. "Someday, I'll see you again."

Quietly I wept, never leaving her.

It was about an hour after that when the nurse came back and checked her pulse before she confirmed that she had passed.

When it was time for them to take her away, I protested, begging to have more time with her, but they insisted that it would be unhealthy for me if I kept on rocking the chair, pretending as if she was still alive.

Lucy had to intervene, pulling me away and into the other room, holding me as I wept harder in her arms.

"I'm going to miss her."

Her hand stroked my back, comforting me. "I know you will."

The baby had been a blessing even if I hadn't seen it that way in the beginning. She had shifted my axis, and I wasn't sure how to move on from here.



The days went like a blur with the arrangements. Amelia's family held a public and private wake, so everyone could say goodbye to her in a closed casket. My friends were there, giving their support, but I chose to avoid them all, including Lucy. At that point, I had no words to say; not even for small talk and nonsense.

My parents were also present, and though my mother apologized for being so crass and inappropriate that time in the hotel towards me and Amelia, I barely acknowledged it. Sometimes, even if someone crossed the line, a heartfelt apology just wasn't enough. She'd be lucky if I granted her anything in the long run. As of this moment, I didn't want anything to do with her and my father. They were scoundrels underneath all the expensive baubles and ostentations.   





 

The events that had taken place before the funeral meant nothing much to me. Most of these people were acquaintances and social friends. Most chose to be there to network, to be seen by the upper echelon of the Spanish society, and of course, to gossip.

None of that was real. Not until the funeral.

It was one thing seeing Amelia's casket go six feet under, but watching them put the tiny casket into the ground killed whatever was left in me. I was hurting gravely and I ought to cry, however tears simply didn't come, and it made me feel even more frustrated.

I felt cold. Angry. Bitter. I was filled with darkness and nothing could make it go away. Truth be told, the darkness that settled in, running through my veins and fueling the hate I had for everyone, actually felt good inside my heart.

Craving the cold comforts of darkness, I wanted to curl up in a dark place; to be left alone with my thoughts and bottles of bourbon and whiskey to soothe the ache in my body.

I had been too late when I had ultimately realized that I wanted that baby. I loved everything about her. Everything had been too late.

I had nothing else to live for other than regrets, one after the other.

Right after the funeral, my friends and I all left in Blake's jet and headed for home. They all huddled over in one section as Chad excitedly discussed the theme and design he wanted to do for his baby's room. Apparently, the baby was arriving soon and he was going to be a father. Hooray for that. I somehow thought it insensitive that I was grieving over my own while he celebrated the birth of his. I should be angry-maybe I was a little bit-but the fury I wanted to happen didn't escalate because I knew deep down he meant well. And I also knew before all of this crap went on, he'd been wanting to have a child. It truly was a celebration for them. Not for me.

I was glad that they respected my wishes to stop asking annoying questions. How often did they have to ask if I was hungry? I wasn't an invalid that couldn't function to get my own meal had I been famished. After that tiny fit I had with them, they stepped back-a little. They were giving me space, though not for long.

Seeing Lucy get up from their little intimate cooing about color schemes, heading towards me, I almost grunted out my frustration. The last thing I needed was to talk to her. After that night of crying in her arms, I didn't want to look even more pathetic in her eyes. Besides, she was becoming too touchy, and I didn't want to get back into my old habit of craving her touch like an addict. I was surviving without her, and I'd rather keep at that.

"Hi, is it okay if I sit next to you?" she asked, smiling as if we were the best of friends.

I could easily fall into her trap again, but what use was it if I was already trapped in my own demons? "Did you need something, Lucy?"

"I was thinking, if you need any help with your house, I could help arrange and clean. The first week is going to be hard for you; I thought it would be a good way to be productive and distract yourself."

She wanted to clean? "I'm fine, but thanks for the offer."