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The wind roared in Alya’s ears, dulling the noise of the waves slamming into the bluff surrounding the beach. The smell of salt stung her nose, and tears stung her eyes. But she wasn’t going to cry again. She couldn’t cry again. If she did, she might not stop.
The waves kept tumbling over one another, slowly wearing at the cliffs. A centuries-long process. Much slower than the way every breath wore into Alya’s resolve.
Then Nino’s voice rippled through the wind, and her willpower crumbled. Tears slipped down her cheeks, but she hastily swiped them away before he could see. She didn’t process his words until his footsteps on the rocky shoreline ceased behind her, and she could sense him standing there, close enough that she could feel his warmth.
“It’s supposed to rain, Als. Are you coming inside?”
Alya shrugged, and Nino let out a slow breath that tickled the back of her neck. He took another step forward, and wrapped his arms gently around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.
He didn’t try to say anything more, for which Alya was grateful.
There weren’t really words for this.
Alya lost track of how much time they stood there. Eventually, the rain did start to fall, but the drops were small and unhurried. At least something in the world was still gentle. When enough drops had fallen that Alya felt them seeping through her T-shirt, she spoke.
“I had a name picked out.” She paused, but when Nino didn’t say anything, she continued. “I know we said we’d wait and see what she looked like, but I just...got distracted on one of those stupid websites. You know how the second you start googling baby things you just get the ads everywhere?”
“Yeah,” Nino said, his voice solemn. She knew he wished the same thing she did. That they could somehow make those ads go away, now. He shifted his position on her shoulder, leaning his cheek against hers. “What was the name?”
“Mélodie,” Alya whispered. She had to fight her body to get the name out. Her throat seemed to want to swallow it and hold it inside. To let it linger in the emptiness that filled Alya now. But once she managed to choke out the syllables, the rest of the words tumbled out as well. “You know how she used to move around so much when you were working on a new mix? How we used to joke that she’d come out dancing?”
Nino let out a small huff. It was the sound that passed for laughter between them, these days. “I remember.”
“Yeah, so…I figured...Mélodie. Then she’d always have a song to carry around with her, wherever she went.” Alya swallowed. “So she’d always have something to dance to.”
Nino sucked in a sharp breath. “I like that.” His voice shook.
For a while, they just listened to the waves again. Alya’s eyes fell to the edge of the tide, watching it rise and fall. It’s consistency unsettled her. She couldn’t keep living like this, stuck in this feeling. She needed something to change.
“It’s not fair,” she said. Like a petulant toddler. Like the one she wouldn’t be holding in her arms a few years from now. “It’s not fair,” she repeated, louder.
There was nobody else on the beach, and the only response was a seagull cawing from overhead. Nino’s arms tightened around her. He knew how she felt, but he didn’t at the same time. Alya walked around with the reminder of what they’d lost, in every kick she didn’t feel. In every time she saw her stretch marks in the mirror. In every breath and every step and every second of every day. The absence was there.
And Alya couldn’t help but feel like it was her fault, somehow. After all, she was the one who hadn’t even wanted this, in the beginning. When she’d told Nino, he’d been excited from the get-go. Even though they hadn’t planned to get pregnant yet. Maybe not ever. Alya had had other priorities, things she’d felt like she was losing. She wanted to travel more. To focus on her career. On her marriage, just her and Nino. And then maybe, if she’d done all that, she might have wanted a baby. Someday.
But the Universe had other plans, apparently. To make her fall in love with a tiny heartbeat and then to make that heart stop beating.
Nino would just be more upset, if he knew Alya blamed herself, so she kept that secret hidden. There were a lot of other reasons to be upset, in any case.
“I can’t even talk to Marinette,” Alya said. She was crying now. Again. Tears of grief, of anger, of shock. Shock, because there was no way she’d ever get used to this. “I’ve been ignoring her texts, since...since it happened.”
“That’s okay,” Nino said. “I’m sure she understands.”
“No. She doesn’t.” Alya was nearly shouting through her tears now. “That’s the problem. She can’t. I’m just so mad at the world, and at her, which isn’t fair. But she two healthy kids at home. She has everything. She’s freaking Ladybug, for God’s sake.” Alya probably shouldn’t have said that so loud, but she didn’t care right now. “And you know...years ago, before I knew it was her, I used to be jealous of the girl behind the mask. I idolized her, sure. But I also wanted to be her so badly it hurt. And then I found out it was Marinette, and I saw what it was doing to her, and God. Nobody would want that, Nino. But now...now she has another thing that I can’t have, and I just...I’m so pissed at her.”
Alya let out a strangled laugh before continuing. “Every time I see a picture of Emma or Hugo, I want to scream. I want to punch someone in the face, or kick a puppy, or...I don’t even know. And God, I love them so much, and they’re such cute kids, they used to make me smile every time I saw them, but now...I feel like I don’t want to see them ever again, which is stupid, right?”
The rhythm of the rain picked up, punctuating the silence after her words.
“It’s not stupid, Als.”
Nino paused, letting out a low hum that told Alya he was trying to figure out what to say next. She left him time to find them, because every word that spewed out of her was a fiery sort of pain, and she didn’t want to be angry anymore. She was just so tired of it, yet she couldn’t seem to stop.
When Nino spoke again, his words tore the breath right out of her. “They are cute kids, babe. But our’s would have been cuter.”
Alya wasn’t much of a crier, normally. She just wasn’t. She felt things deeply, when she took the time to really feel them, but usually she was good at finding perspective. She was good at feeling things, and dealing with them, and moving on with her life. But this wasn’t something like that. This was a feeling she was stuck in. A swirl of emotions, a tangle of threads. She couldn’t pick one apart from the next, so how on Earth was she expected to even start sorting through them?
Now, she lost it. She shook, sobs wrenching their way out of her chest. Her knees gave out, and somehow she and Nino ended up in a ball on the ground. His arms wrapped around her and he hummed soothing melodies in her ears as she cried. She cried until she had nothing left to give, and even though she was surrounded by water, by the ocean and the rain, she cried herself dry.
Her sobs abated to hiccups, and finally there was a slight reprieve. Her body feeding her a crappy silver lining in the form of endorphins. And wasn’t it cruel, how that happened? How after you cried, you somehow felt better? Like biology took a sick pleasure in the pain.
Nino pressed a kiss to her cheek, and she closed her eyes, leaning into it. Letting it be the one thing that tethered her to the future. To hope.
To love.
She wasn’t sure it was enough.
***
Alya smiled, but a part of it was missing. Part of it always would be.
They were back on the beach, that same beach she’d been on nearly three years ago, where she’d cried until she had nothing left to cry, and she’d half hoped the waves would magically sneak up and swallow her.
She didn’t feel that way, anymore, but it still wasn’t easy.
Now, she’d finally found a moment alone. She didn’t have many of those, anymore. Not that she minded.
“Hey.” A familiar voice came from behind her, again. Her smile widened.
“Hey, handsome.” She turned around and laughed when she saw Nino. “What happened to your hat?”
He scowled. “Henri stole it.”
Alya chuckled again, and looked over to see her son sitting on the beach beside Louis, Marinette and Adrien’s youngest. He and Henri had been born less than a month apart.
Henri tapped Nino’s hat against Adrien’s head, and Adrien was pretending to be knocked silly by the action, making a show for the two youngest kids sitting on the towel while Marinette splashed around in the shallows with Emma and Hugo. Even from this distance, Alya could hear Henri’s whoops of laughter. Louis was silent, staring at his father with a serious intensity.
Nino reached Alya, and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her cheek, and even though she didn’t need that feeling to tether her to the world anymore, she was still grateful for it.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m just…” She exhaled. “I’m glad we came back here. I needed to, you know? And I’m glad we didn’t come alone. But it’s just...a lot. I needed a minute.”
“I get that. Do you want me to stay?”
“Always.”
They didn’t talk about it, but they both sat down at the same time, their legs spread out in front of them, Alya leaning back against Nino’s chest, his hands resting on her thighs.
“I don’t know why it feels like she’s here,” Alya said. “I mean, when she was...she never actually came here, you know?”
Nino gave a soft hum of agreement. “I think it makes sense. She might not have been here, physically, but...she was a part of us here, I guess. Sorry. I’m not good with words like you, Als. Maybe that didn’t make sense.”
“No, it did. I liked that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
They sat for a while, just listening to sounds of laughter floating over the waves.
“I wanted to come here because I thought it might help me finally let go,” Alya said eventually. “But I don’t think I can. I still feel guilty, sometimes, when Henri smiles at me. As if being happy he’s here means I’m glad she’s not, you know? And I wanted to let go, so that feeling would go away, but it won’t, I don’t think. Not entirely.”
“No,” Nino agreed. “Probably not. I feel that too.”
“I just hope...I hope he doesn’t feel it, you know?”
Alya used to be carefree. She used to be the kind of person who sat back and let the chips fall where they may. She’d always though that she’d be relaxed as a parent, not hypervigilant, worried at any minute that something might go wrong.
“I don’t think he does, Alya. He’s a pretty happy kid.”
She glanced over in Henri’s direction and smiled. “I hope so. But anyway, I do feel...better, somehow. Sitting here. With her, kind of. It feels right. And wrong, and just...it feels. And for so long, after...feeling was hard. So...I’m glad we came.”
“Me too.”
Alya twisted around to see Nino. Her husband, her anchor, her tether. She smiled, and caught his lips with hers. She felt him smile against her kiss, before they sank into it, deeper and deeper, until they were interrupted by a patter of tiny footsteps against the sand.
“Auntie Alya! Uncle Nino!” Somehow, half of Emma’s body was covered in sand. It was tangled in her hair and stuck to her left leg, arm, and torso. It didn’t seem to phase her, she just accepted it, grinning widely. “Maman said it’s time for lunch. Come on!”
She held her hand out to Alya, who laughed and took it. Alya made a show of pretending Emma was actually strong enough to be hoisting her up. Nino pushed himself up behind her, chuckling.
Some of the grains of sand stuck to Alya’s hands as Emma ran ahead in front of them, heading back to join the others. For a second, Alya stared at them, almost sadly. She didn’t want to brush them away, though she wasn’t sure why. But Nino was reaching for her hand, so she wiped the sand against her swimsuit and took it.
When they got there, Henri was covered in sand anyway.