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A light mist settled over the ministry that late afternoon and all that could be heard was the relentless hammering of rain on the tiled rooftops, its incessant thrumming echoed and bounced off of the empty hallways. The air smelt fresh and earthy and filled the large corridors of the abbey as a cold chill settled into the bones of the building. A heavy and sombre feeling fell over the inhabitants. The normally lively halls and rooms of the ministry were silent, it was almost eerily quiet.
Rosemary was sat by the window in the room she shared with Copia, a large blanket covering her aching bones. She lacked an expression as she stared out over the gardens, watching as the world seemingly washed away with the rain. The gardens that once flourished with brightly coloured carnations were dull and lifeless to her, for the joy she used to see was gone, smothered by the looming grief that threatened to drown her. She shifted slightly, pulling the blanket around her. She could feel her body protest and groan as she moved, a pain that she wished would disappear and fade quicker than it was.
It had been two days since the loss of her baby. Copia and Rosemary were barely staying afloat in the aftermath and were desperate to escape the empty feeling they both felt inside. Their son had been born sleeping, a painful reminder of the fragility of life. Rosemary had gone into premature labour and what had come of it was a feeling that she didn’t know how to handle. She had spent the last two days blaming herself, trying to figure out what she had done wrong and why it had happened. It was nobody’s fault. A ‘freak accident’ as the doctors had told her. Yet, she refused to listen, it had to have been her fault.
As she sat there watching the rain, her face was tired and sunken, her eyes devoid of any sparkle she once had. Her cheeks were stained with the tears that she had shed, and her chest ached from sobbing. She looked like a shell of her past self; the lively and spirited Rosemary was no longer there. She felt two arms snake around her and gently pull her into an embrace.
Copia was careful as he moved her, afraid of breaking her as if she was the most precious and fragile thing he had ever touched. He pulled her against his chest and rested his chin atop her head.
“I’ve got you.” He whispered as he idly stroked her back. His warmth was a comfort to Rosemary, his arms felt like home and felt safe. He was not used to seeing her so vulnerable, so quiet and beaten down. The Rosemary he knew was a force to be reckoned with, yet this Rosemary felt like she was crumbling in his arms, and he wanted to do anything and everything to keep those pieces together and stop her from shattering. His arms tightened around her as he kissed her forehead. “I’ve got you.” He whispered again.
Rosemary’s grip on his shirt tightened as she curled up against him. “Everything hurts Copia. I don’t know what to do.” She whispered as she buried her face into his chest, wanting to be as close to him as she possibly could.
“I know, mia cara, I know. Is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all? Are you hungry? I could make you your favourite sandwich if you’d like?” Copia asked, desperately trying to do anything and everything to soothe both the physical and emotional pain she was in. His hand stroked her back as he held her tightly.
Rosemary simply shook her head. She just laid there against him; her heart broken. For the first time in her life, she didn’t know what to do, she didn’t know what would happen and she didn’t know how to stop the pain that she felt with her very soul. Instead, she listened to the rain that hit the window and the rhythm of his heartbeat as she rested against his chest.
Her mind began to wander, thinking of a time the two had been laid there together like that but happy. She thought of the joy that being sat there, his hands on her belly as they waited to feel a small movement inside. The way they would laugh and grin like idiots every time there was a mere flutter. The way that he would spend hours talking to her bump, telling the baby all about his day and singing soft tunes to him. The way he would pepper her stomach with soft kisses and make her laugh. She wanted nothing more than to go back to that time, to not feel the pain she was in that moment.
But it was impossible. The memories of the fateful night still lingered on her mind, she knew she would be unable to forget them any time soon, if ever. She had gone into labour during one of her sermons and had begun to bleed heavily by the time she reached the infirmary. She could remember the intense pain she was in and the fear in both Copia and the doctor’s eyes. She knew that something was wrong. Deep down, she knew. Her gut feelings had never let her down and she blamed herself for not listening to it before it was too late. She remembered the doctors leaving her in Copia’s arms, sobbing, as they carried away the small bundle in their own. She had never felt pain like that, and she never wanted to feel it again.
She was roused from her thoughts by the feeling of Copia’s hand in her hair, something he knew would calm her down. She turned her head to look up at him. She could see his pain, the worry in his eyes and the bags that had formed beneath them. She could see his stubble starting to come through after days of not shaving, too afraid to leave her side. She could see the love though. The way he looked at her with adoration even in their darkest moments made her realise that they would be okay.
“It’s okay to be sad, you know that right?” He said quietly to her, knowing her habit of supressing emotions.
“I know… I just- I’m afraid that if I let myself cry and feel like that, that I will never be able to stop.” She replied, laying her head back down on his chest.
“I will hold you regardless, mi amore.” He whispered and kissed her head again.
“We’ll be okay, won’t we?” She asked him, taking his free hand in hers. Outside the rain continued to downpour.
“We’ll be okay.” He replied with a sad smile, a desperate attempt to comfort her and provide her with solace and the knowledge that she was not alone.
She nodded and sighed deeply as she rested against him, watching the chaos of the rain outside. She felt Copia pull the blanket up around her some more, making her smile a little. She felt like she didn’t deserve him. He had put his own mourning on hold to take care of her as she recovered. She knew she didn’t deserve him.
“You can sleep if you’d like?” He asked her, he could practically feel the exhaustion radiating from her and he knew that her body was still coming to terms with the ordeal that she had been through.
It wasn’t long until she laid there, fast asleep in his arms. The room was quiet, and the sound of the rain and her soft breathing was all that could be heard. Copia stayed with her, refusing to move. He just laid there with her, stroking her hair gently and watching every breath she took. He had been so afraid of losing her too. Yet here she was, asleep and safe in his arms.