Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Kaitlyn’s face appeared, but she didn’t say anything as she played with a set of plastic farm animals.
“Kaitlyn,” Gwen said, urging her to look at the camera.
Her head popped up, brown curls bouncing wildly. “Oh, hey, Daddy.”
My finger still positioned over the mouse, I had to fight the urge to pause it.
That was how our conversations worked.
She’d talk.
I’d pause it to respond.
I’d press play and she’d talk again.
And I would be able to pretend that she was somewhere with Gwen, happy and living her best life.
Only today, I couldn’t pretend anymore.
I’d sat on that couch with Gwen and Nate, reality finally feeling like a reprieve.
I had no idea where the day would take us. But I’d done everything I could think of to prepare for court that morning. Still, I worried that it wouldn’t be enough. It wasn’t Wednesday, but I decided to spend a few minutes with my girl before heading out.
The video Gwen had sent me the first time I had gone away to get help, months before I lost her in the mall, continued to play.
Kaitlyn’s round face hardened and her brown eyes narrowed. Leaning forward on her elbows, she put her button nose only a few inches from the camera. “This was the worst week ever! I hate school. Hate. It. First, they told us Mrs. Rowell isn’t coming back to school. She had that stinky, rotten baby and forgot all about us. Babies poop their pants, Dad! All of us in class use the potty like big kids. But nooooooo, Mrs. Rowell wants to stay home with that, that baby. And then they made Mr. Ward our teacher! He’s the worst!” she cried, finally leaning back in her chair so I could fully see her again. “I hate him. I don’t even want to go to school anymore. But Mom said if I stop going now, I’ll never be able to be a chicken nugget maker at McDonalds when I get older. It’s not fair. I just want Mrs. Rowell back.”
My chest got tight, the grief damn near crippling me just like it always did when I heard her say those words. This time, however, the pain that sliced through me was sharper than ever before.
I just wanted her back.
I’d tried for eighteen years though, fighting against an unstoppable future in which she would never grow up. And for what? To hold the very essence of her captive in that house with me?
I’d listened to Nate laugh and talk proudly about his sister, and I’d seen my baby girl’s determination in Gwen as she rebuilt that restaurant from the ground up. They were outside this house, and Kaitlyn was not only alive, but she was living—through them.
Before she’d passed away, I hadn’t wanted her to spend her life trapped by my grief. I’d wanted so much more for her because there wasn’t anything in this world that could stop her from being great. Except for me. It was part of the reason I’d let Gwen go—to spare them both the pain of living in the darkness of my sorrowful shadow.
But rather than trying to find the light to help me escape, I’d trapped her in the darkness with me. And that was a disservice to not only my daughter’s memory, but to the entire world who had never gotten to meet her.
I couldn’t do it anymore.
I couldn’t sit frozen in this house, waiting for the impossible, while ignoring all of the incredible possibilities that were still out there. Kaitlyn didn’t need me anymore, but the world still needed her. And every day that I sat alone in my self-imposed prison, I let her die all over again.
And that was a fucking tragedy.
“Did I show you Fiona Iona yet?” Kaitlyn asked as she lifted a plastic tiger sporting a doll’s tutu around its midsection toward the camera. “She’s a ballerina. Mom said she’s going to get me some glue and pink glitter so we can make her shoes. I don’t think the glitter will work though, because she needs to be able to take them off when she goes to work. Hang on. Let me show you her sister.”
She started talking a mile a minute about her toys and their lavish nicknames, which I’d memorized over a decade earlier.
As I studied her beautiful face, working hard to commit every feature to memory, a tear rolled down my cheek. “I’m so sorry,” I said as she continued to babble on. “I am so sorry Daddy couldn’t save you.” My voice hitched, the words feeling like razor blades in my throat as I struggled to get them out. “But I have to go now. I can’t keep doing this, kiddo. I can’t let you keep doing this. You deserve to be free. We both deserve to be free.”
My shoulders shook, a sob tearing through me. “I need you to know that I love you. In the past. In the present. And for my entire future. I will carry you with me. Every breath I take will be for you. Every time my heart beats, it will be for you. And every smile that your mother and crazy little brother put on my face will be for you. But they need me now, baby. And I need to be there for them, the way I can’t be there for you.” A guttural cry sliced through me, and I hung my head. “Just…please know that I love you. I love you. I love you so much, Kaitlyn.”