Chapter Text
Two months.
Two months since little Poppy closed her eyes for the last time
Two months since her room sat empty, her dolls still on the bed and her scent of lavender and talcum powder slowly fading away
Two months since Elliot's world crumbled... and mine with it
God, I was shattered
She'd had a terrible illness..one of those that doctors call by long, cold names, but which really mean just one thing:
no hope.
We'd tried every therapy, every medication, every specialist that Playtime Co.'s money could buy.
Nothing worked.
The disease ran its course, relentless, and Poppy slipped away like a flower wilting before its time.
I'd been married to Elliot for two years. Two years since I'd entered that little girl's life. And she, with a heart as big as her smile, had accepted me without reservation.
Not because she needed a mother, but because she knew it would make her father happy.
She was so generous, so sweet... and now she was gone.
Those thoughts woke me.
They opened my eyes in the middle of the bedroom's darkness. A hot tear slid down my cheek and fell onto the pillow. I stared at the ceiling, watching the shadows the moonlight cast on the plaster. Then I turned my head to my side.
Empty.
The bed was cold. The sheets, barely rumpled, showed that Elliot hadn't slept there in hours. His pillow still held the shape of his head, but not his warmth.
(I sat up abruptly, a knot tightening in my chest the clock on the nightstand read 2:17 AM. A cruel hour—one where silence grows heavier and memories grow sharper)
(I got up)
The night's cold seeped into my bones the moment my bare feet touched the floor, so I pulled on the wool robe hanging from the chair and my old slippers. I went down the stairs carefully, each step a creak in the wood that broke the silence.
(And then I saw him)
(Elliot stood by the living room window, his back to me. Moonlight bathed his figure, tracing his slumped shoulders and the curve of his bowed head. A thin column of smoke rose from his hand. He was smoking. Something he hadn't done in years)
-Elliot?-(My voice came out softer than I expected, barely a whisper lost in the gloom)
(He didn't turn. He kept staring outside, at the frozen garden, at nothing)
(I descended the last few steps and walked toward him. The wooden floor creaked under my steps, and the night's cold slipped through the window cracks, making my robe feel thin)
-Darling-(I said, raising my voice a little)-What are you doing here?
-Nothing.
Just the smoke from his cigarette, rising slowly toward the ceiling.
(I placed my hand on his shoulder. I felt his body tense, as if my touch had pulled him from a trance)
(Finally, he turned)
(I saw his eyes)
They were red, swollen, with deeper shadows than I remembered.
He'd been crying.Crying alone, in the dark, while I slept. His gaze darted away at once, trying to hide the pain consuming him.
-You shouldn't be here-(he said, his voice hoarse, barely a thread)-You should be in bed, dear
-And you?-(I replied, feeling worry mix with a pang of helplessness.)-What are you doing here, Elliot? It's two in the morning. It's freezing cold. And you're smoking something you promised to quit when we married.
(He brought the cigarette to his lips and took a long drag. The lit end glowed in the dark, briefly illuminating his trembling fingers)
I couldn't sleep-(he admitted, his voice cracking)-Every time I close my eyes, I see her. I see her in the hospital bed, so small, so pale... and I can't... I can't...
-Elliot-(I said, squeezing his shoulder)-I can't stand watching you destroy yourself from the inside
(He let out a bitter, humorless laugh. His jaw tightened, the cigarette trembling between his fingers)
-You didn't know her like I did-(he said, his voice rough and cutting)-You didn't see her born.
-You didn't see her grow.
-You didn't see her...-(His voice broke, and he brought the cigarette to his lips with a sharp gesture)
(I took a breath)
-No.
(I shook my head gently)
-I wasn't there for those moments.
-But I was there for the last two years of her life.
-I saw her laugh.
-I saw her dance through the house. I saw her hug you every time you came home from work. And I also saw her smile fade, little by little.
(Tears began to blur my vision)
-I loved her, Elliot. I loved her as if she'd been my own daughter. And losing her broke my heart too
(He stood still)
(He lowered his gaze to the cigarette still held between his fingers. He remained there for a few seconds, watching the ash grow slowly, until, with a trembling sigh, he stubbed it out in the ashtray)
(His hand didn't move away. It stayed resting on the window ledge, shaking)
-I couldn't protect her...-(he murmured, his voice broken)-I was supposed to protect her
The words seemed to weigh heavier on him than anything else.
(I stepped closer)
-You did everything you could, Elliot
(He shook his head slowly)
-It wasn't enough
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke. Only the wind rattling against the windowpanes could be heard.
(Then he lifted his head and looked at me)
For the first time that night, he stopped trying to hide the pain.
His eyes filled with tears.
His breath shattered.
And, as if he had no strength left to hold himself up alone
(he took a step toward me and wrapped his arms around me)
(He squeezed my waist with a desperation that stole my breath. His fingers dug into the fabric of my robe, as if he feared I'd vanish from his arms if he let go. And I, without hesitation, clung to his shoulders. I felt his bones beneath the fabric of his shirt too prominent)
He'd lost weight.
He'd lost everything
-I swear...-(he whispered through tears)
(His voice sounded desperate)
-I swear on my life...
(His arms tightened around me even more)
-I'm going to rebuild our family
(I closed my eyes)
-Elliot...
-No matter what it costs.
-No matter what I have to sacrifice.
-No matter how impossible it seems.
-I will bring her back.
-I will make you hold our daughter again.
-I promise you.
(Tears soaked my shoulder)
(I could only hold him. I could only love the man in front of me)
(He squeezed my waist tighter, and I felt his hot tears soaking the shoulder of my robe. He cried, inconsolable, and I could only hold him. I could only be his shoulder to cry on)
-I love you, dear-(he murmured)-I love you, and I promise you everything will be alright. I promise.
I didn't answer. I just held him tighter, feeling the night's cold seep through the window and the warmth of his body against mine.
I knew Elliot was desperate. I knew his grief was blinding him. I knew there was no medicine, no therapy, no miracle that could bring Poppy back to life.
Or was there?
In that moment, as I held him in my arms and felt his desperation, I couldn't imagine how far he would go. I I only saw a broken man, a father who had lost his daughter, and I did the only thing I could: I loved him.