Destroyed

17

Hazel

Happiness.

Such a farce.

I’d been happy—blindingly happy only twice in my life.

The first was when I held Clara just after she was born. She unlocked emotions and joy I never knew existed.

The second was when I landed a job at a prestigious company thanks to a forged resume. I might have earned the job with lies, but I earned a bonus in the first month thanks to my work ethic.

Both showed my life improving, both hinted at pleasures to come.

Then I met Fox and I dared to hope I’d have a third moment of happiness.

But just like everything, it was the brief interlude before the main event.

The eye of the storm.

The beginning of the end.

I’m pregnant.

Not a whoopsy daisy I was stupid and forgot to use contraception. Not a I was sick and didn’t use other precautions while on the pill. Not a I forgot to update my shot or my coil didn’t work or the condom broke or I forgot to take the morning after pill.

Nothing like that.

No, life found a way to create something from nothing, cementing a marvel inside a womb that’d been confirmed as sterile forever.

I didn’t believe in miracles, but I did believe in second chances.

And this was Fox’s.

Roan’s.

For three days, I nursed the news. I sat awake at night, running my hands through Clara’s thick hair, imagining a future where she’d survive and grow up with a baby sister or brother. I painted a fairy-tale where Fox could be touched and loved, and we created a wonderful family from a very dysfunctional beginning.

I wanted to tell him. I went through every scenario of how to announce the news.

Every time he looked at Clara with smitten eyes the words I’m having your child danced on my tongue, waiting to be said.

But I cradled the news with utmost secrecy.

You’re avoiding it because you don’t know how you feel.

My hand fell on my flat stomach. I would never terminate a pregnancy, but I couldn’t wrap my head around holding another child. Loving another child.

It felt traitorous to Clara. I felt unfit and unworthy, and it tore me up inside. I couldn’t love another cherub-cheeked baby—it was a betrayal to her.

Wasn’t it?

I threw up twice—not from morning sickness—but from guilt. Guilt for loving another child as much as I loved Clara. Guilt for replacing her.

That was my true issue.

My firstborn will be dead, but I’ll have another. I wouldn’t have the time to mourn, or the luxury to forget about life. I wouldn’t have the privilege of ruining my own world once Clara left me.

I would have to go on surviving, smiling, living, all for a baby I’d never thought I’d have.

And it made me fucking angry.

Angry to recognise how weak I was—knowing I would love this baby with everything I was, which wasn’t fucking fair to Clara. She owned my heart, body, and soul, and she would be dead.

I was dizzy, tired, and nauseous trying to come to terms with gaining a life just before I lost one.

Ironically, I kept my secret because of my own regret, but Clara was the one who made sure I’d never tell him.

It was Tuesday, and the club was quiet.

After a trip to the bathroom to yet again scream at myself to consolidate my stressed emotions, I entered the office where we were finishing some paperwork.

Fox sat at his desk, dressed in black, surrounded by black; he looked like the son of a scarred kind-hearted shadow.

Clara lay on her stomach, little legs flying, hands cupping her chin as she watched Nemo on the large flatscreen.

Fox looked up; a gentle smile graced his lips. “I’m done here. I was thinking we could all go out—maybe grab takeaway and watch the sunset?” He laughed. “Listen to me—never thought I’d say such a domesticated thing.”

Clara looked over her shoulder, grinning. “I want fish and chips. But I don’t want to eat Nemo, so make sure the fisherman doesn’t kill him.”

Fox shook his head, eyes glowing with love.

He’ll make an amazing father.

I flinched, taking in the domestic bliss in front of me. Despite his touching issue, Fox was perfect. Strong enough to protect, wealthy enough to provide, fierce enough to love with everything bared.

His snowy eyes met mine, and my stomach tripped over itself. The message he sent was lust. He wanted me. For the past three nights, I’d sneaked into his room once Clara was asleep, and I let him tie my hands before giving me all of himself. He fucked me, but made love to me. He gave me sweet and gentle wrapped up in brutal violence.

My heart fluttered, responding to his unspoken request. I wanted him, too. Not just now, but for always.

I want this. All of it.

Forever.

My heart switched from fluttering weightlessly to plummeting like a stone. My eyes fell on Clara. I hated my sad thoughts. I despised the weakness and perpetual grief.

Nothing lasted forever. I just had to embrace every moment I could and prepare myself for pain at the end. I would miss her like I would miss my own soul, but I would live on.

I would be the universe for another child who needed me.

The pregnancy had thrown my world off balance, and I hadn’t found my feet in this new gravity.

Fox deserved to know about the new life inside me—perhaps it would be enough for him to keep his sanity when Clara was gone.

You know that’s not true. Not possibly true.

Clara would rip a chunk of our hearts out, and we’d never be the same. My shining star would burn out and leave us in the dark.

Roan stood, pushing his chair back. The energy in the room increased as he moved toward me. My skin sparked in anticipation of his touch; my body warmed, preparing for his possession.

And then it shattered.

Clara coughed. Nothing huge, nothing scary or major. I thought nothing of it.

But the silence afterward sent icicles stabbing into my flesh. My eyes flew to her, almost in slow motion.

More icicles stabbed my limbs, drawing forth agony and terror.

Clara’s legs went from kicking in the air to sprawled, her little elbows gave way, and her head thunked against the carpet.

“No!” Shit.

Shoving past Roan, I threw myself onto the carpet and gathered her rigid form into my arms. Her little body was a plank of rigid wood. Her eyes rolled back, white and vacant. Her lips opened and closed fruitlessly trying to drag oxygen into her body.

“What the fuck?” Fox slammed to the floor beside me. His large presence crowded me, making me claustrophobic.

“Get back. She can’t breathe!” I hoisted her torso upright, willing her to suck in a breath. “Come on, sweetheart. Come on. You can do it. Please. Not yet. Come on.” Her lungs wheezed and clattered as a smidgen of air got through.

“Give her to me,” Fox demanded, shoving me aside to spread Clara onto her back. I toppled sideways, tears distorting my vision. “Call 111.” His blazing blizzard eyes met mine. “Go!”

Scrambling to my feet, I ran back to the room I shared with my rapidly fading daughter and upended the bag Clue had packed for us. Clothes, toiletries, and cuddly toys went flying. “Where is it? Where the fuck is it?”

I shoved aside items frantically until my fingers latched around the asthma inhaler. Charging upright, I raced back to the office.

Fox had one hand pinching her nose while he breathed a lungful of air into Clara’s mouth. Her chest rose, then fell as he leaned back and pressed the heel of his hand against her bony chest.

“That won’t work. She needs this. She needs the medicine.” I shoved his shoulder, causing him to shoot a hand out to stay upright. His back tensed as he fought whatever urges he dealt with.

Positioning my hand behind her neck, I looked into Clara’s rolling, panicked eyes. “Suck in, okay? You know how to do this.” A flicker of life returned to her gaze, and I pushed the inhaler past her blue-tinged lips.

Fox looked like a black-hole beside me, trembling with rage and dread.

“What’s happening to her?” he growled.

Ignoring him, I pressed the trigger, administering a cloud of medicine into Clara’s mouth. She wheezed, gulping what she could.

But it wasn’t enough.

Hot scalding fear replaced my blood as her little hand clawed at her throat. Her lips turned from blue to indigo.

“Lay her down,” Fox snapped.

“She can’t breathe like that!”

“Just do it!” Fox yanked Clara from me and placed her on her back again. Planting his massive scarred hand over her chest, he pushed down hard. Glaring, he ordered, “Do it again.”

With shaking hands, I placed the inhaler in Clara’s lips and stabbed the plunger. Fox slowly removed the pressure from Clara’s chest, effectively dragging the medicine into her lungs by manual force.

A second ticked past, then another.

“One day, when I grow up, I want to be a doctor, so I can stop people coughing like me.”

The memory came and went so fast, I barely acknowledged it. But my heart died with terror—I couldn’t let her go. No!

I couldn’t stand it. I had to give her another dose. I had to save her.

Then the silence was broken by her spluttering and sucking in greedy lungfuls of oxygen. She lurched off the carpet like a drowning survivor, drinking in air as fast as she could.

I slumped in massive relief, then sucked back tears as a bout of coughing hit, reminding me this time she’d stayed alive. But the next or the next…

Don’t think about it.

All I cared about was that she was alive and breathing again. I needed to stay strong and not focus on the unchangeable future.

Awareness filled Clara’s eyes and tears welled. She reached for me, and I dragged her into my lap. “I don’t like it, mummy. When will it stop?”

My stomach clenched. I sat rocking, peppering her forehead with kisses. “You’re okay. It’s alright. Breathe.”

Clara’s breathing slowly changed from rattling to smooth, and she rested her heavy head on my shoulder. Her body heat comforted me—reminding me I hadn’t lost her yet.

I didn’t know how much time passed as I drowned in memories of her. The joy on her face when I painted our bedroom with purple horses, the way her face screwed up when she sneakily stole a sip wine. Everything about her had been three dimensional animation. And it killed me to watch her fade to crackling black and white.

A lone tear slid down my face as I rocked and stared into the past. I lost track of where I was. I lost track of Fox. All I focused on was my slumbering daughter, balled tight and fragile in my arms.

My arms couldn’t hold her hard enough. I wished all my health and strength could filter into her through osmosis. I cursed God that I couldn’t trade my life for hers. The lump of terror that’d replaced my heart hung heavy and unbeating in my chest.

I jumped a mile when a shadow prowled in front of me. Fox dragged his hands through his hair, pacing with fury that sparked in the gloom around him. “I’ve given you time. I’ve sat here for the past hour watching you rock your sick child to sleep. I told myself to leave. To let you have time together. I’ve told myself I shouldn’t care this much for a child that I’ve only just met. I’ve told myself so many fucking things…”

He stopped and faced me with furious features. “But then I stopped telling myself things and decided I would stay. I decided that no matter what happens, I belong to you and that little girl, and I have the right to know what the hell is going on.”

Pointing at Clara fast asleep in my arms, he growled, “Start speaking. I know there’s something wrong with her, and I know you’ve been keeping it from me. Fuck, Hazel, even the kid knows she’s on limited time, yet you thought you could hide it from me?”

Clara made no move to wake, but I pressed a hand over her ear. “Keep your voice down.”

He scowled. “She’s not going to hear me. Can’t you tell the difference between normal sleep and sleep so deep you wouldn’t hear an atomic bomb explode? No? Well, why would you after your perfect life instead of being a prisoner where every sleep you rested like the dead hoping, praying, that you’d never wake up.”

His anger whipped me until I felt sure I bled from lacerations. He cut my soul just like Clara tore out my heart. “Don’t make me tell you. Not with her in my arms.”

Please.

I knew it was coming. I knew it would happen. I’d tried to prepare, to face the end with strength and even a trace of bittersweet happiness at the thought of her no longer being in pain. But I hadn’t been strong enough.

Sucking in a breath, I muttered, “I’ll tell you, but give me time.”

Keeping his voice low, he whisper-shouted with pent-up rage. “No more time, dobycha. Now. I want answers. Now.”

What could I say? I knew this day would come; I had hoped I could pick the opportunity and circumstance, which was ridiculous considering Clara had so very little time. I had so much to tell him.

Time had run out. For all of us. It wasn’t fair. None of it. A man I loved hated me. A child I adored was leaving me. I just wanted to lie down and indulge in waves of self-pity.

He’ll hate me.

But he deserved to know. I should’ve told him the night he shared his story. That would’ve been the correct thing to do.

I waited for the crushing guilt of keeping it from him, but a chill entered my bloodstream, granting an eerie peace instead. I was numb. Numb to the new life inside me. Numb to what Fox would say.

The only thing that entered my self-imposed numbness was my anger and grief about Clara.

“I’m going to own a horse when I grow up. Lots and lots of them. Including Pegasus.” Clara’s sweet voice ran around my head.

I looked up into his blizzard eyes. It was time for the truth. Time to break Fox’s heart.

He leaned over me, looking menacing and cold. His energy slapped me with seething anger. “Tell me.”

Before I could open my mouth, he stormed away and dragged another hand over his face. “Look, I’m sorry for being so fucking angry, and I want to console you and fucking support you—but you’ve been keeping this from me and I’m pissed.”

Spinning around, he faced me like a black hurricane. “So tell me the truth. What the fuck is wrong with her?”

I tried to stay strong, but angry tears leaked from the corner of my eyes. Making sure my hand was tight across her little ear and her eyes remained closed in sleep, I snarled, “She has PPB.”

“And what the fuck is that?” Fox growled.

Don’t say the C word. Don’t say it. It’ll make it true. Pretend. Forgot.

“It’s short for Pleuropulmonary Blastoma. She’s—”

Fox froze. “Cancer?”

I hung my head, fighting the tears, cursing my wobbling frame. Sucking a deep breath, I spat out the entire truth, the history, the fear, reeling it off as fast as I could. “I told you I bought her the star necklace on her fourth birthday. I couldn’t afford it, but I had to buy it. That was the first day she was admitted to the hospital from a coughing fit. She was so scared. So freaked out. After she was discharged, I would’ve done anything to battle away the terror in her eyes from almost suffocating to death.

“The next time was only a few months later. She’d gone from a healthy toddler to active child who would suddenly collapse in a coughing fit. She was diagnosed with severe asthma. We were given inhalers and oxygen purifiers and told to avoid certain foods. And for a while, it seemed to work.

“A few years went by with the occasional episode and two more journeys to the ER. Clara was a trooper. Never complaining, so strong willed and amazingly happy considering she had an array of tablets and inhalers to take and use every morning.”

I stopped. My lip wobbled, and I bit down on it, drawing blood, focusing on the pain. It helped mask the agony of remembering that day only a month ago.

Fox dragged his hands through his hair. “Go on. Don’t stop. I want to know all of it.”

“A month ago, Clara collapsed and the usual emergency inhaler didn’t work. She was announced clinically dead in the ambulance as we tore to the hospital. They managed to bring her back, but stole her from me for hours to perform tests. I had no idea what they were doing with her. I threatened to burn the hospital to the ground if they didn’t let me see her.”

I shook my head, remembering the exact afternoon as if it replayed in perfect detail before me. “Clara sat up in bed slurping on red Jell-O. She was awake, rosy cheeked, and happy. All my debilitating fear disappeared, and I felt as if life had finally given me good news. I’d done endless research on asthma in children and a lot of them grow out of it as they get older. I stupidly thought that the episode signalled the end, and she would never have another one again.

“That was before the doctors took me into another room and told me my daughter was dying.” My hands clenched and all the rage I’d bottled-up exploded.

I glared at Fox, not caring my cheeks were stained with tears. I wanted to kick and punch and kill. “That was the day they told me they fucking misdiagnosed my child. That she had Pleuropulmonary Blastoma and the tumours had grown so big they were suffocating her day by day. They said operating wasn’t an option as it’d spread to other parts of her body. They said the only choice was chemo, and that would only extend her life by a few months. They said they were fucking sorry and offered me counselling. They spoke about her as if she was already dead!”

Fox hadn’t moved. His body looked immobile, locked to the carpet. His eyes flashed with such livid anger I feared he’d track down the doctors and kill them himself.

“That was the day I died. I accepted your contract for a stupid fantastical dream of a trial drug in America. Something that has the power to reduce white blood cells and stop the cancer from spreading. But even if it worked, Clara is riddled with it. It lives in her blood. Killing her every second. That’s why I agreed to sell myself to you. That’s why I kept coming back. And that’s why I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want to admit my daughter was dying and I couldn’t save her. No matter what hope I chased I would fail.”

Fox tore his eyes from mine, pacing to the mural of the black fox on the wall. His hands opened and closed by his thighs. “How long?”

My throat closed up.

“Mummy, when I’m old enough, do you think I can have a puppy?”

Everything Clara ever wanted was in the future. When she was old enough. When she’d grown up. I never had the heart to tell her that there would be no Pegasus or puppy or university education.

Shit, I couldn’t do this. I would never be ready to say goodbye.

He spun to face me. “How fucking long, Hazel?”

Steeling every muscle in my body, I voiced Clara’s death sentence. “A few months.”

“Fuck!” Fox whirled around and punched the wall so hard his fist disappeared through the painting. “And you didn’t think to tell me? You didn’t think I ought to fucking know? For fuck’s sake! I’m in love with that little girl! You allowed me to fall head over fucking heels knowing full well I was about to lose the one thing curing me. She’s the key to fucking healing me, and you tell me she’s about to die!”

“Shut up!” I glared at him almost suffocating Clara in my arms. “Enough!”

Fox ignored me. Thumping his chest, he winced in agony. “You gave me everything, and I stupidly thought I had a future. A fucking family. I had something to strive for. Something to fight for. I was doing it all for her!”

He charged toward me, the harbinger of death and destruction.

I braced myself for his wrath. Kill me. Then I don’t have to watch her die.

He glared, looking so strong and invincible. Then something cracked inside him. He transformed from a broken, livid male to an unfeeling, unthinking machine. He willingly gave himself to the ruthless conditioning of his past—shutting down his hard won emotions.

The ease of which he regressed terrorized me. I screamed, “Don’t go back. Don’t give up. You love her. Don’t abandon her when she needs you the most.” Don’t abandon me.

Fox laughed coldly. “You think I’m abandoning her? Goddammit, I’m protecting her. You’ve torn my fucking heart out. How am I supposed to trust myself feeling so empty and alone? It’s Vasily all over again. Everyone I fucking love dies!”

“Mummy?”

My heart dropped into my toes, and I looked down to see a groggy Clara blinking in confusion. “Why is your hand over my ear?”

I laughed through the sudden onslaught of tears. “No reason, sweetheart.” I removed my palm, clenching my fingers around the heat residue from touching her. She looked worn out, pale, and entirely too thin. Her lips had never lost their blue tinge and she felt frail, unsubstantial, as if her soul had already begun the journey to leave.

My body seized. No…

“When I grow up, I want a sister. I want to dress her, play with her, and teach her all about horses.”

I couldn’t breathe past the rock in my throat.

Clara’s brown eyes flickered upward to Fox. “Were you fighting?”

Fox immediately dropped to his haunches, reaching out to take her tiny hand. “No, Clara. We weren’t fighting.” His eyes swirled with hurricanes and snow, glistening with rage and misery. “Just talking. That’s all, little one.”

She sucked in a wheezy, unfulfilling breath. Another cough bombarded her small frame. “Good. I don’t want you to.” Her eyes closed again, and we stayed frozen. I dared to hope she’d fallen asleep, but her little lips parted and a darker tinge of blue returned.

My heart ripped itself out, vein by vein, artery by artery as my body prickled with foreboding. She’d never looked so wraith-like, so ghost-like, so…

You can’t have her. Not yet. Not yet! I yelled in my head, wishing I could go head-to-head with the powers that be. I need more time. I’m not ready.

Her liquid eyes re-opened. “Mummy?”

A gut-wrenching moan escaped my lips, before I cleared my throat and forced my terror away. The part of me unbound by earth—the spiritual part—knew the doctors had my daughter’s lifespan wrong once again.

There would be no more months. No more days.

“When I grow up, I want to be just like you, mummy. You’re my best-friend forever and ever.”

I couldn’t explain the crushing, debilitating weight that took up residence in my chest. Horror scattered down my spine as tears prickled my eyes. “Yes, sweetheart.” I kissed her forehead, threatening away tears, drinking in her fading warmth.

“Do you think Roan would like my star? I can’t take it with me.”

Ah, fuck.

No. No. No.

I gathered her closer, rocking, choking on relentless tears. I hated everything in that moment. Every doctor. Every hope. I hated life itself. “You can give it to him when you’ve had a good night’s rest, Clara. Don’t fret about it now.” I kissed her again, inhaling her apple scent into my lungs.

“When I’m older I’ll look after you, mummy. Just like you look after me.”

Her eyes suddenly popped wide, looking intelligent and almost otherworldly. She stared right at Roan as if she saw more than just a scarred man, but a broken boy from his story.

A large cough almost tore her from my arms. Once it passed, she gasped, “Don’t fight with mummy, okay? And you can have my star.”

Roan cleared his throat; his entire body etched with sorrow. His jaw clenched while his eyes were blank, hiding whatever he might be suffering. The scar on his cheek stood out, silver-red against the paleness of his face. “Okay, little one.” His large hand came forward and rested on her head.

Clara smiled and her eyes held Roan’s before coming to rest on mine. Something passed between us—something older and mystical than an eight-year-old girl. I saw eternity in her gaze and it shattered me as well as granted peace. She truly was a star. A never ending star.

“I love you, Clara. So very, very much,” I whispered, kissing her nose.

She sighed. “I’m tired. I’m just going to go to sleep now.” Clara shifted in my arms as another cough stole her last bit of air.

“When I grow up, I’ll never be sad or lonely or hungry. And I’ll make sure no one else suffers either.”

I had never held anything as precious as my daughter as her soul escaped and left behind a body that’d failed her. Something deep inside me knew the very moment she left, and I wanted nothing more than to follow.

My own soul wept and tore itself to smithereens at the thought of never hearing her giggle or see her smile again. There would be no more talk of growing up or planning a future that had barely begun.

It was like a candle snuffing out. A snowflake melting. A butterfly crashing to earth. So many beautiful things all perishing and ceasing to exist in one cataclysmic soundless moment.

I didn’t shout. I didn’t curse. There was nothing to fight anymore.

It was over.

My daughter was dead, and Fox hadn’t moved a muscle. His heavy hand stayed on her head, fingers playing with strands of faded hair.

Silent tears glided down my cheeks. I never stopped rocking, holding the last warmth of my daughter’s body.

“Mummy, would you be sad if I left?” The memory came from nowhere and I curled in on myself with pain. “Yes, sweetheart. I’d be very sad. But you know how to stop me from feeling sad, don’t you?”

Her little brow puckered. “How?”

I scooped her up and blew raspberries on her tiny belly. “By never leaving me.”

I traced her every feature, from her heart-shaped face and full cheeks, to her dark eyelashes and blue lips.

“You left me,” I whispered. “You made me sad.”

Fox made a heart-wrenching noise in his chest and stood quickly. Staggering, he looked as if he would pass out. “This can’t happen. It can’t.”

His entire body trembled, hands open and closing, eyes wide and wild. He looked completely and utterly destroyed.

He needed soothing. He needed to let his grief out. He needed to find healing not just for Clara’s death but his awful past. But I had no reserves to console him. I had nothing left to give.

Fox looked at Clara one last time and every ounce of humanness, every splash of colour that Clara had conjured in him faded to grey, to black. “It isn’t fucking fair. It wasn’t supposed to happen. Not like this. Not so soon. Not like this!”

His rage battered me like a heavy squall and I couldn’t do it. I needed to remain in a little cocoon of serenity where I could say goodbye to my wonderful daughter. Hunching over Clara’s body, I shut him out. I opened the gates to my grief and let myself be swallowed by tears.

“I don’t want you to be sad, mummy. So I’ll never ever, ever leave you.”

The memory brought a tsunami of tears, and I lost all meaning of life as I tried to chase my daughter into the underworld. My ears rang as Fox howled and every good and redeemable thing in him died.

There was nothing left to say. Nothing I could do to change what had happened.

Turned out, I couldn’t save either of them.

“I can’t do this. I can’t—” Fox snapped with the brittle rage. He left in a flurry of shadows and sin, leaving me to pick up the broken pieces of my completely shattered life.