The Thistles of Rose

3 • Honest

♕ Rose ♕

"Have you...gone into the nursery yet?" My mother speaks from the phone. I speak to her every single day and when I can't, I get really upset. It feels nice to have someone to talk to, properly.

With Luca, I don't reveal too much to him because I know he's hurting too. I feel horrible. I've been so cooped up in getting revenge for our little boy and dealing with his loss that I haven't been paying that much attention to him.

"No," I sigh, folding my laundry, "my last breakdown was 3 days ago and I know if I go in there...it'll push me off the edge. I'm just tired of crying all the time and it feels nice to not have done that for a couple of days, you know?"

"I get it. You've let it out but if it comes again, don't hold back. It'll only make you worse," she smiles and her hazel eyes soften, "you still hurting?"

"Not 'cus of that. I erm got my period back last week," I inhale a breath, "I didn't even know. I thought it was just internal bleeding but when I went for my check-up, yesterday, the doctor told me that my menstrual cycle is back to normal."

Her hand covers her mouth as her eyes fill with tears, "I'm so glad to hear that your body is healing properly, Rose. That's actually a miracle."

"Let's just hope it carries on like this," I speak distantly and my eyes focus on the dark wall. My hand rubs over my belly which once held my son in it.

I lost my tummy quite quickly from all the training that I did and from my depression. Unfortunately, I'm now an unhealthy weight which is very concerning to my doctors but understandable.

The gunshot wound has visibly faded but I won't ever be able to forget that. My c-section scar has healed and is now quite red. The doctors keep giving suggestions on how to remove it but I don't want to.

My c-section scar is more than a reminder, it's a memorial.

"It will don't worry," she smiles softly, "hey, I gotta go but I'll call you tomorrow, yeah?"

I hardly grimace at her and she says, "I love you, Rose. Take care."

We hang up the phone and I finish putting away our laundry. Grabbing the iPad, I go downstairs to sit in the living room, enjoying the warmth of the house compared to the winter, November air outside.

My eyes catch sight of the tattoo on my left wrist and my heart becomes heavy. I fixed it up. There's now a little dove holding the stalk of the oak plant in his mouth.

I'm doing this for you, Oakley. I'm doing your orphanage.

I've only got a couple of things left on the list to do and then it'll be all ready. As of now, I just submitted the inscriptions for the plaque that will go outside the building.

The Oak Shelter.

In memory of Oakley Atkins and Baby Armani.

May the light of their shining stars brighten many more souls.

I never thought the dedication would be to two of the most important people in my life; my best friend and my son.

"I know you're taking good care of him for me, Oak," I sigh, swallowing the boulder in my throat and staring up at the ceiling, "you're not alone up there anymore."

He hated that. His parents had left him alone, I left him alone. Whereas now, he has my little boy with him to keep him company.

"I love you both so much," I feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I use every morale in me to push them down and luckily, I succeed. I'm not going to ruin my longest-ever streak of not crying yet.