“No. It was… I didn’t really understand what was happening at the time. I remember having this deep, aching desire to hold Kane again. I kept thinking about h-how he died. Tormenting myself with it. I couldn’t stop.”
“I remember you getting up in the middle of the night one night because you thought you heard him crying. I found you in his room, sobbing.”
That memory is hard. “Yeah. I was terrified, too. I didn’t want to leave the house. I didn’t feel safe and I was so afraid something else terrible would happen. I was so messed up.”
“You were. But look how strong you are. Look at you now—stronger than me.”
One corner of my mouth lifts and I touch my fingertips to his face. “I don’t know about that.”
“Fuck yeah, you are. Women are so strong. Men are idiots.”
I huff out a laugh. “When I started feeling better, I wanted to help you. But I couldn’t.”
He nods.
“And that made me feel like a failure. I couldn’t help my husband deal with the grief of losing our child.”
“Fuck. That was becauseI wouldn’t let you.” His voice is ragged. “That was onme.”
Oh.
“Iwas a failure. I couldn’t helpyou. I couldn’t even help myself. When you needed me, I couldn’t fix you.”
“I didn’t need you to fix me.” I hold his gaze steadily although my voice wobbles. “I needed you to love me. Support me.”
He closes his eyes, makes a rough noise in his throat, and reaches for me. I move into his arms, climbing onto his lap and straddling him, wrapping my own arms around him. We sit like that for a long time, holding each other.
“I’m sorry, Ayla,” he says again in a low rasp. “I’m so sorry. I did love you.” He swallows. “I do love you.”
“I love you, too.” I drag my fingers through his thick hair. “When I saw your face when you were holding baby Marco… I knew. I knew you hadn’t really dealt with it.”
“He’s the same age… as Kane was…”
“Yes. It’s hard. It’s okay.” I draw back to peer at his face. Red-rimmed eyes meet my own.
“It wasn’t just me, trying to move on,” he chokes out. “It was everyone else, too. Nobody asked me howIwas doing. Everyone asked howyouwere doing. Everyone assumes the man can handle it. They didn’t want to talk about howIwas feeling.” He pauses. “That just reinforced that it was better not to talk about it.”
“I didn’t know that.” I lay my hand on his cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s just how the world is.”
“But it doesn’t have to be.” I lean forward to softly kiss him. “Can I ask you something else you won’t like?”
“Sure, why not.”
“I know you want to fix things for people. And I told you… how I felt judged when you tried to step in and help.”
He closes his eyes.
“It was probably like that with your sisters…? I know you wanted to look after them and keep them safe, and they probably wanted autonomy and independence.”
His eyes shift as he takes that in, then gives a slow nod.
“Something to think about, I guess.”
“Yeah.”
“And… that time…” My voice trails off as my throat clogs. I clear my throat and sniff. “That time we were arguing about getting over it and… and you were trying to tell me I needed to move on… and you said, ‘For Chrissake Ayla, he’s been dead longer than he was alive.’”
