Relinquish - His Second Chance

Chapter Seven

Denial

Sebastian

I cannot bring myself to leave my room for two more days, keeping myself in the bubble of our room surrounded by our things, by her things.

I imagine her in the rocking chair in the corner, staring at me as I lay on her side of the bed, smelling her robe that's quickly losing its scent, our eyes connecting as I talk into the air.

"I love you, darling," I'd tell her, but she does nothing but stare at me in silence as if she's suddenly mute and unable to communicate.

I can see her on the toilet as I shower, something she had no shame in doing each morning, and again, I enlighten her of my love for her because the constant need begs for me to do so.

I can even hear her call my name when my eyes are closed, her soft voice surrounding me like a concert, pulling at my insides as I will it to be real.

She's very much still in this room, and I fear if I leave for even a moment, perhaps she might disappear, that she'll leave me for good, and I cannot fathom a world without her in it. So I've stayed.

Keeping myself hidden in the last place we were together.

But the time has come that I must leave, my mother, ragging on me something chronic, stroking the side of my face as I stare at the rocking chair that doesn't really house my wife, yet I see her there anyway.

"Baby, Melody needs her father. You're all that she has left," she explains to me for the third time in as many minutes. Her warm hand a reassuring sensation as I remember many a time Beth would do the same thing.

"I can't, mum. I can't leave our room," I tell her truthfully, yet in the same instance, I keep the extended truth from her.

"You need to; it's been too long. Hiding in here will only make things harder in the long run," she assures me.

Perhaps she's right, but why?

Why do I have to leave my wife?

Beth looks at me sternly, her eyes darting outside the bedroom. It's almost as if she's daring me to leave or warning me of something that's to come.

Does she want me to move on and live the rest of my life already?

"Let's have breakfast, son," my father's voice sounds from the doorway, my eyes leaving Beth to find him standing in his suit. He has Melody in hand, her little face a sight for sore eyes as she grins from ear to ear.

"Dada," she calls, struggling to escape my father. He puts her down, and she runs inside, right by her mother and their favourite chair, to come to me with open arms and excitement like you'd never believe.

Of course... she's not real, just a figment of my imagination.

Melody flies into my arms, encouraging me to sit up to hold her close, her tiny body comforting in a way I had forgotten as I squeeze her to me

"Pa-cake," she smiles to me. Excitement written all over her features as she points outside the room where she had just come from. And though my eyes only scan past her, Beth's smiling in the chair, a wave of elated emotion taking her features as she smiles exuberantly towards us being together.

"Pancakes for breakfast? No way, who made them?" I ask with matched excitement to Melody, though even to me, my voice is devoid of all emotion.

"Gamma," she points to my mother.

But, of course, that is my favourite breakfast, and she knows it. And what better way than to motivate me away from my room than with my favourite breakfast and my daughter?

"Shall we get up then? Let me guess, you want maple syrup?" I ask Melody as I find myself smiling down at her, a new lease of life instilled in me after seeing her for the first time in days.

It's sad to admit, though we've been in the same house, under the same roof, that I've made no time for her when she needs me the most.

My parents, as always, know what they are doing, and I'm up and out of my bed, watching Beth as I go. Knowing once I step outside of the room, I will have to stop pretending that she's real, that she isn't indeed with me.

The house seems somewhat empty as I walk down the stairs and enter the kitchen, which sounds strange, considering my parents follow behind me. Tina and Geoff are both sitting at the dining table waiting for the four of us.

Breakfast is served, pancakes and bacon, with syrup and fruit.

I snort, sighing inwardly that a platter has been made for the six of us when there's no real occasion for such a thing.

Melody eats almost immediately, tucking into her plate of food as soon as I place her down into her chair, and though my belly rumbles, I reach for the coffee instead.

"You look like s**t," my father announces.

"You need to shave," Geoff agrees, making me run my fingers over the overgrown hair that's sprouted on my face. The hair in question being a commodity, but nevertheless, something Beth had always loved.

"I'll do it later," I whisper to get them off my back, making the room fall silent as everyone eats breakfast.

"What are your plans for the future?" Tina asks me, her eyes calculating and her lips set in a firm line. Something warns me to bind my tongue, to say only the bare minimum. That the future isn't set, and she might well use anything I say against me.

"Grieve my wife, be a father..." I mutter unhappily.

"I think it'll be best if I take Melody home with me," Tina voices, her tone nervous and her hands shaking as she cuts her pancakes as if she knows she's poking a bear yet stands up before it anyway.

I eye her nervous movements, noting she's scratching the plate over cutting the already severed food.

That's what they brought me down here for, to tell me they are taking my daughter from the only home she's ever known?

From her only surviving parent?

"Absolutely not!"

"You're in no fit state to care for a child. Take the time to grieve. In the meantime, I'll ensure she's okay," she spits at me angrily.

This only makes me assess my father-in-law; seeing his reddened cheeks that enlightens me to the fact that he disagrees with his wife's stance for once.

And then I look at my father, his face natural, but his eyebrows raised.

He knew I'd disagree, yet he allowed Tina to make a show of herself just to prove... what exactly?

That I am more than capable of being the perfectly trained son he created, even in this state of perpetual unhappiness?

And then I look to my own mother; perhaps Tina chose to do it all wrong because if it were my mum offering me the reprieve to grieve alone, maybe I would have agreed.

But that's not what happened, and I won't agree to such a choice.

"No!" I shout, slamming my mug on the table, spilling the red hot liquid over my hand and the tablecloth as I seethe at my mother-in-law. "She stays with me in her home... she's my daughter."

"She's my granddaughter, Seb!"

"She's my mothers too. That doesn't mean she'll be going home with her. I've said no, and that's final."

Tense stares transpire across my dining table, all whilst poor Melody sits wide-eyed and fearful.

I'm not sure how much she understands, but I'm sure she realises on the most basic level that we are fighting about her.

"You're scaring my daughter," I adopt my work tone; it's low, sultry and menacing. Exactly what I need right now. "Melody will be staying with me; she will be living with me; she is my daughter."

Tina starts to cry, and it's then I realise that having Melody would have given her a distraction, that she was using the thought of caring for my child as an out to her grieving.

"I'm sorry, Tina. I understand this is difficult," I tell

her, reaching my hand for hers as it lays on the table open and waiting. "I'm struggling myself, I'm grieving my wife, and that's taking everything out of me... I cannot help you grieve your daughter. I'm not strong enough for the both of us," I admit.

"Will you let us see her?" She asks.

"Why wouldn't I? Every Saturday for dinner, as always," I promise, my chest constricting at the thought that she doesn't trust I would keep up the familial tie.

"Okay."

Her tears stream, yet she squeezes my hand and doesn't discuss the matter again. A silent agreement sitting between us that she understands, or at least is willing to step back and allow me to be the parent I'm destined to be.

I look up from the table, over at the kitchen, seeing Beth standing with a frown on her beautiful face.

She hates it when we fight and now's no different. Yet with her standing there, she gives me the strength to admit my wrong.

"I'm sorry, Tina. I didn't mean to shout... I was scared. I can't lose Melody, too."

"Oh, Seb," she cries, scraping her chair back to move to embrace me. "Life is so unfair," she claims.

"Yes. Yes it is."