How Do You Move On From Something Like This?

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Three Months Later

We've moved again. Andy and I thought it might be best for all of us if we were able to start fresh in a new house, one that wasn't tainted by memories of deceased moms or crazy murderous dads. It took us a bit to find one that we wanted. I insisted that the boys each have their own rooms. They tried to convince us that they'd be fine sharing so that the baby could have the other room and more nights than not, one of them was on the floor in the other's room, but I knew that as the trauma of what we all had been through wore off, they'd be happy we had gotten a place where they had their own space to retreat to. 

Charlie was in therapy, something that I had insisted upon. His nightmares were back and I didn't know how to help him. He would wake me up with his screaming and I would panic, thinking someone was trying to take him again. I'm pretty sure that I had slept on the chaise lounge that we had gotten for his room almost as much as Jacob had at this point, terrified to leave him alone for even a moment. 

Andy was really great about the whole thing, never making any of us feel like we were less then as we struggled to cope with the trauma and find our new normal. That meant slowly preparing ourselves for the arrival of our daughter. Yep, a daughter. I don't think I've ever breathed a bigger sigh of relief. The last thing this world needed was another male blood relative of Charles Hemlock. I love Charlie with everything in me but he was terrified that nature would be stronger than nurture and that he would turn out like our dad. Nothing I could say would make him feel better and it was something that his therapist was working with him on, at least that's what he told me. 

Andy and I were currently sitting on the floor in the nursery. He was attempting to put together the IKEA crib that I had picked out and I was folding onesies and placing them in the matching dresser. We had decided to do neutral colors on the walls and furniture and have blankets, stuffed animals, and curtains that were light purple, adding a splash of color. We were arguing about a name, something that we had been doing since the ultrasound when we found out she was a she. 

"What was your mother's name?" I ask him. 

"Marianne. We are not naming her Marianne."

"Ok. It was just a suggestion."

"What was your mother's name?"

"Rebecca. But I don't think I could name her that. Too many horrible memories. I love my mom but there's a lot of pain there still." And we're back to square one. 

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The following night Andy takes me out to dinner. I wasn't fully comfortable leaving either of the boys at home alone, something I was still struggling with after these last months, so Andy had them make plans with a friend so we could have time to ourselves. We were looking over our menus but I couldn't focus on the words. Instead, my mind taking me back to the confrontation with my father three months ago to a conversation that the others didn't hear because of the static over the mics, a conversation I swore Charlie to secrecy about. 

"He'll never truly love you, or the bastard child you're carrying. You're the reason his wife, the mother of his son, is dead. It won't matter that he was going to leave her. She's dead and it's your fault. He won't be able to let that go."

"You're wrong. You're the reason she's dead. You pulled that knife on her, not me."

"Are you ok?" Andy's question pulls me back to reality. 

"Do you and Jacob blame me?"

"What?"

"Do you blame me for what happened to Laurie? She's dead because I refused to end things with you. If I had just let you go, the mother of your child would still be alive."

"Where is this coming from?"

"Nowhere, just forget I said anything."

"No Kat. Tell me. Where is this coming from?" I recount the conversation my father had with me, my voice getting quieter and quieter and by the end of it I'm in tears. Damn pregnancy hormones!

"Listen to me Katherine." I refused to look him in the eye. "Listen to me." I turn and face him, looking over at him with the saddest eyes he's ever seen. "If you had ended it with me, and your father never murdered Laurie, I would still be in an unhappy marriage, hoping she would sign the divorce papers once they got written up. I didn't want her dead but things between us had ended long before you came into my life. I didn't say anything in the moment because we never had had a chance to talk about it, but she was seeing someone else too. All those weekend/week trips to DC, that was her going and seeing her whatever you want to call him. If I never met you, if I never knew what it felt like to love and be loved by you, I would still be unhappy, living with someone who had become a stranger. If I never met you, I would not be as complete as I am now."

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