I was never okay.
But I survived.
I survived an empty house and a hollow heart. I survived the sleepless nights and life without direction. I survived pitiful looks and women trying to gain my attention without any success.
I survived, but I wasn’t living; not really.
My heart was still back there, fifty years ago, in that small bedroom in our small town, dying along with her. It stopped beating the moment I realized she wasn’t with me anymore. All that was left was grief and missed chances, and a lifetime of sorrow every time I thought about that period of my life, and I thought about it a lot.
Now, as I stood in the city she so desperately wanted to visit, I wanted to beat myself up because I avoided coming here for as long as I could.
I often daydreamed, especially now in my old age, of what our lives could’ve been like. She probably would’ve gone all the way to the Olympics, while I played for one of the teams in the NHL. She would’ve been a star, the country’s favorite girl, because there was no doubt in me that every single person would’ve fallen in love with that bright smile and the starlight in her hair.
I wondered if our kids would’ve looked more like me or her.
Andrew had a daughter years after Sophie died, and every time that sweet child spoke to me, I could see pieces of my Sophie shining through her eyes. She had eyes the same color and high, regal cheekbones.
And I was her uncle.
Uncle Noah.
That’s the only thing I ever allowed myself to be.
I tried living the life Sophie wanted me to. I tried falling for another woman, but my eyes only ever looked for her in a room full of people, and every time my heart reminded itself that she wasn’t here anymore, it hurt just like that first time.
So I gave up trying to patch up the wound inside my chest. I gave up pretending and just went on, reliving our last moments together.
The vibration in my back pocket pulled me back to reality, and as soon as I saw the name on the screen, my lips pulled into a wide smile.
“If it isn’t my favorite girl,” I said as soon as I put the phone to my ear.
“Uncle Noah!” Ember, my eldest niece, yelled into the phone, her sing-song voice echoing through the line. “How are you?”
Ember was a tiny thing when she was born, but she played such a huge role in my life. In the period after Sophie’s death, all of us just went through the motions until Ember.
The first time she wrapped her tiny hand around my finger, tears burst through my eyes at something so innocent, so pure, and I couldn’t contain the happiness seeping through the pores of my body. She had her father’s eyebrows, her mother’s face, but she had her aunt’s eyes and her hair.
The first time Ember stepped on the ice, it was as if somebody catapulted me back in time, and I wasn’t seeing Ember—I was seeing Sophie.
Sophie in her white skates. Sophie in her pink tulle skirt. Sophie gliding over that ice as if she was born on it.
Andrew cried like a child, while Ember laughed, going in circles, keeping her arms in the air as if she was trying to fly. And now, years later, Ember looked more and more like what I assumed Sophie would look like.
She had that same stubborn streak in her eye when something wasn’t going how she wanted it to go. She had that same grace, same happiness, same light living inside her chest. And she made all of our lives better.
In the middle of our sorrow, the universe gave us a gift.
A gift wrapped in a pink blanket, and none of us could help but fall in love with her.
“I’m good, Em.” I smiled. “What are you doing on your phone? I thought you had your practice today.”
Ember’s love for the ice didn’t end that day when we took her for the first time. While none of us pushed her toward it, none of us tried to impose the lost dreams Sophie once had, Ember went on to become a National Champion. And now she was taking on the world, preparing for the Olympic Games with her partner, Damien.
“I am having a practice, but we’re on a tiny break right now, so I wanted to call you to see how everything is. Are you enjoying Rome?”
Ah, the million-dollar question. Ember knew about Sophie. How could she not? All of our houses were filled with Sophie’s pictures, Sophie’s medals and little memorabilia she left behind.
While she didn’t share my blood, she was like a daughter I never had. Maybe it was stupid, but Ember was like the daughter Sophie and I were supposed to have.
