I feel empty. Complete and utter emptiness entraps me, holding me to this altar as my heart begs to be set free from grief’s torturous shackles.
I don’t know how much time has passed, but I cry until my tears run dry and my fists feel bruised from slamming them on the altar. In a crouched position with my cheek pressed against the altar’s floor, I open my eyes to find my dad standing off to the side.
Blinking rapidly to clear the resurfacing tears, I sit up when I realize I’m not hallucinating.
“Dad,” I whisper, crying even harder when he comes closer and kneels beside me.
“Hi, Taev,” he greets, his voice cracking when he says my name.
“I thought I saw you the other day,” I tell him as tears stream down my cheeks.
He reaches a hesitant hand out and wipes away my tears before admitting, “I was there.”
My brows pinch in confusion. “How did you know?”
“Jackson has been, uh, keeping me up to date.”
I rear back slightly in surprise. Jax hadn’t told me he’d been in contact with my dad. When I moved to Nashville after my miscarriage, I left everyone and everything from Minnesota in my rearview. Up until Jackson brought me back from Paris with him, I’d only come back here for concerts.
“So you know the two of us are still married,” I say warily.
“I do. And I can’t say I’m surprised that Jackson didn’t file the paperwork for the annulment.”
“I guess in hindsight, I shouldn’t have been surprised either,” I admit sheepishly. While Jackson’s family may have all been shocked to find out we were married, my dad has known since just before I left. It was foolish of me not to follow up, but I probably would’ve had to ask for my dad’s help again or gothrough Kyle, and whenever it came to Jackson, Kyle would turn cagey.
“Why are you here, Taev? What led you here this morning?” my dad asks.
Shaking my head, I look down at my hands in my lap. “I’m so lost, Dad.”
I pause, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth. It’s fitting, really—being here with my dad who also happens to be the man I grew up listening to each week as he gave his sermon. The man who helped raise me and guide me in my faith that I have since let go of.
God, I can’t even remember the last time I was inside this church. It’s been years.
Taking a deep breath, I decide to lay myself bare. “I’m broken, my heart is shattered and it hurts. I’ve never felt pain this visceral that wasn’t physical. I’m wounded, but it’s all invisible, and it makes me feel like I’m going crazy. Wave after unbelievable wave of grief and heartache crashes over me, and before I can rise to the surface to catch my breath, another one pulls me under. I’m drowning in agony all while the love of my life tries to pull me from the water. But I can’t see past this storm of sorrows that keeps circulating. Help me understand, Dad. Why is God punishing me?” Gasping for breath, tears stream down my cheeks as I search my dad’s eyes for the answers I’m seeking.
He reaches out to wipe more of my tears before taking my hands in his. “I’m not sure why you’ve been dealt these cards, Taev. I’d usually encourage those grieving to find solace in God’s presence, but I’m not sure that’s what you’re willing to hear right now. What I will tell you is that when your mother died, I wavered in my faith. Tell me what brought you here, specifically.”
“There are only two. There were fourteen but now there are only two. And that doesn’t even mean either of those two embryos will become a baby I get to hold in my arms. For nearly ten years I’ve questioned why my baby was taken from me. My body keeps failing me, and I’m so damnangry. I only got one chance at an egg retrieval and now I may never have a child of my own. And I can’t stop the intrusive thoughts from reminding me that Jackson would be better off without me. Not only am I holding him back with my cancer diagnosis, but now I’m burdening him with my infertility.”
My dad doesn’t hesitate as he throws his arms around me and holds me right there on the steps of the altar in a church that worships a God I’m not entirely sure I believe in anymore.
But maybe that’s not true.
Something orsomeoneplaced Jackson back in my life after all these years apart. It wasn’t just happenstance that I performed at Bennett and Scarlett’s wedding after having just been diagnosed with cancer.
Maybe God didn’t want me to go through this battle alone.
And maybe, just maybe, it isn’t God that has stolen more from me, but the cancer.
Pulling my head from his chest, I look up at my dad. “I think I’ve been blinded by my opponent, Dad. I can’t fight God, but Icanfight cancer. Mom lost her battle but I refuse to follow in her footsteps in that aspect.”
“You won’t,” is all he responds, and we sit in silence as I stare up at the light shining through the stained glass windows surrounding us.
We sit there for what feels like hours until I’m pretty sure my knees will never heal from the soreness. Finally, my dad breaks the silence. “I’ve got to get going now, Taev. But just know this: you are stronger than you could ever imagine. From the moment you came into this world prematurely yet still cryingwith piercing screams, you’ve been a fighter. Take strength in knowing youcanovercome this. Youwillovercome this, I know it with every fiber of my being. And when it seems impossible, try to have faith that your two embryos will be fighters too.”
“I love you, Dad,” I tell him for the first time in far too long.
Instead of being met with silence like I had been for years, my dad wraps me in his arms one last time and whispers, “I love you too, Taev.”
