Relinquish - His Second Chance

Chapter Five

Sebastian

I wake sometime late into the afternoon, inebriated with the world's worst headache spreading like piss across the marble floor.

Christ, why did I drink so much?

It's not like I drink that often, but my emotions are thick and constant, and I guess that perhaps I needed an outlet. I'm lost, not that that is any excuse to stoop so low, leaving Melody to her grandparents because I'm far too gone to string a sentence together.

Whilst I'm blind like that, I can pretend she isn't gone; I can glaze over the last three weeks of horror... yes, that's why I drank. To block everything out, if only temporarily. If only to be given a reprieve from my new reality.

It's time to get up, Seb. Time to be the man you promised her you would be!

That's easier said than done, though. I start with a shower, sobering myself below the stream of water that does nothing for me. Probably only rinsing the stench of alcohol from my skin as the toothpaste does my breath.

And as I shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, I noticed Beth's dressing gown still hung on its hook. My hand reaches for it in a moment of pain as I bring it to my face to sniff.

It still smells like her, and that's why I can't bring myself to get rid of it. In fact, all of her belongings are precisely where they've always been. I grab it, tossing it over myself even though it's a tight squeeze, and I wrap it around me, bringing the material up to my nose to smell her once again.

Fuck.

Why does it still have to smell like her?

I grip the bathroom counter, looking at my reflection, the pink material out of place on my muscular body, yet I couldn't think of anything better to dry myself in.

Smoothing my hands down the material, I remember all the times she wore this, all the times I peeled it from her body.

Closing my eyes, I pull on the pockets much as I used to when I wanted her to come closer. Surprisingly, paper meets my fingertips, arousing my senses as I stuff my hand in either pocket only to bring out two envelopes sprayed with her perfume. My senses are drowned in Beth as I note one is addressed to Melody and one to me.

"What is this, Beth?" I ask aloud, my heart racing at the mere thought that she had planted these here purposely.

As if she could foresee the fact I would find them... proving that she always knew what I needed. Could always foresee my next steps long before I could.

I stroke the paper, tracing Melody's name as I draw in a long and jagged breath before opening the envelope as carefully as possible, ensuring the letter's longevity.

And as I start to read the letter, Beth's voice narrates, making me look up to find her there, staring at me.

To my dearest Melody,

I'm writing this letter in vain, my child. For one day, you will not have a memory left of me, perhaps only something that your father has planted within your delicate mind.

It saddens me wholly to know that the mother that I am now will not be the mother that you remember as you make it through each year and every milestone that is headed your way. It depresses me that I'll miss the most critical years of your life and, more so, who you will become.

I'm sorry, my love, my darling, my sweet, innocent little bug. I'm sorry that I allowed this disease to take me from you. I'm sorry that I have left you motherless.

But do not fret, my child, for your father is more than capable of guiding you alone, for he is a good man worthy of taking on such a task.

I sit here now, watching you sleep in our bed, your brown hair fanned around you, your lips parted as you breathe evenly, that small and already tatty bear tucked beneath one of your arms that I made whilst I was still carrying you within me.

I once said you would never sleep with your father and me, and then the diagnosis came, and I knew I couldn't waste another night of not holding you close where you belonged.

And so the recession began, the need to hold you as I did as a newborn. The need to breathe you in with every passing minute of sleep. The need to watch you be, dreaming whatever things your sweet mind conjured up.

The feeling of wholeness you bring is unmatched by anything I have ever felt in my lifetime, bug.

Motherhood never called to me before your father, and I met, but as with everything else, he brought a new sense of need for everything I currently have in life.

The need for him.

The need for our home.

The need for our own family, for you.

We've been blessed more than probably acceptable, but we've also been doomed just as much.

Your father is a stoic soul; he's unable to admit to his feelings as readily as me. But Melody, he loves you just as deeply and fiercely. He loves you so hard that it hurts him to know he will be the only parent for a while.

I listen to him cry in the dead of night, and in that emotion, I know he will be the best father you could ever have wished for.

He loves you so hard, darling, that the thought of you losing me hurts him irreparably.

My time is nearly over. I can feel it, the depletion of my ability to stay awake. The energy it takes to do such mundane tasks that I used to take for granted...

So I need to write this now; I need to ensure you have something of me to keep, to hold dear.

This letter is your eighteenth birthday present.

And within it contains a safety deposit box code, the deeds to my apartments and my half of our home and a savings account that would have accumulated enough interest for you to live comfortably for many years to come.

You'll need for nothing, my child, and despite my lack of presence, I hope you find my forward planning somewhat comforting and reassuring regarding how deeply I love you.

I promise that despite my lack of physical presence, I am here. I have always been here, for I promise never to leave you for as long as my soul continues to exist.

I'll always be around you, guiding you, protecting you.

That warmth in your chest will be me.

Those red-breasted robins will be me.

The white feathers I'll leave as a sign that I was near will be me.

That sense of love in your darkest hour will be me.

I promise that I'll never leave.

I promise to be your mommy, even if in spirit.

Melody, I simply love you.

I love you beyond any words that I could ever write.

And yes, I know these words coming from a woman that you do not know probably mean nothing, and I've had to come to accept that.

I've agonised over the sadness that brings me, but I need you to know that right now, my world begins and ends with your father and you.

And I find myself losing sleep just to watch the pair of you for as long as I have left.

I love you.

Gosh, I love you so incredibly much, my child.

Happy eighteenth.

Love always,

Mummy x