Unspoken.
The worst words, the ones that haunt you forever, are not the ones that you say. They are the ones that you never said, when you should've. I've waited years for an escape from my mother, and when I got it, it was for the reason I didn't want. Regardless, it was better than being with her. Now? I am with my aunt, the person who saved me, on her deathbed. The doctor told me that she didn't have long. They tried to save her, they tried everything they could. They recovered the bullet, but the bullet had a poison that was going to kill her. I was sitting beside her as her eyes fluttered open.
She'll never marry. She was the youngest of my father's siblings. Only thirty and she will never marry. She'll never get to walk down the aisle, wear a white gown, pick flowers and worry about a wedding and seating arrangements. She'll never get to say "I do." It would be another collection of words left unspoken. It would be something that a little girl named Clara Steele had hoped to say, but never will. A dream that would be nothing but a dream. A dream that would be nothing but a vision in her mind.
She'll never have children.
She'll never retire.
She'll never meet her soulmate.
She'll never find somebody to make her as happy as Jeremy had once made me.
Never.
"Don't cry." She told me, her voice husky. I hadn't realized I was crying. I wiped my tears.
"How can I not?" I asked, my voice shaking as I held a sob. "You're—"
"Dying." She answered, to spare me. "I know, but I've lived." She smiled. I shook my head. I looked down for a second as the tears started building.
"No, you haven't." I disagreed. "You'll never love. You'll never have children, you'll never retire, you'll never meet your soulmate, you'll never meet someone who makes you as happy as Jeremy did to me. You'll never get married, or have a wedding, or plan one, or worry about one. You'll never see me walk down that aisle. You'll never say 'I do,' and you won't hear me say it, either." I told her, now crying.
"That's true." She agreed. "But I've saved lives, made you happy, made your father happy, I've taken care of you, Anne." She smiled. "You're not my child by blood, but I look at you like you are. I've had a child, and I've raised her. I've raised you. I might not see you walk down the aisle, but I've envisioned it and I know exactly who'll be waiting for you at the end. I might not have done it myself, but Anne, you're wrong about finding someone who will make me love. You have. Maybe not like that, but you've made me love. I've planned weddings, but not my own. I planned your mum and your dad's. I've walked down the aisle, not in a white dress, but as a Maid of Honour. I might have not said 'I do,' but I've heard it, and that is all that matters. It's much more magical when you witness it, rather than live through it. Especially if you love the people that live through it."
"But how are you going to know how it feels to be the bride, and not the bridesmaid?"
"I won't, but I don't have to." I sobbed.
"Don't leave me." I begged her. I didn't think I could live if I did. I didn't think I could deal with more grief. There is only so much pain a person can take, and I've had too much in my lifetime.
"Anne, you've built your walls so high, and you've reinforced it so much that nobody could climb it or get through it, unless you let them. You let me. You gave me and Jeremy that privilege, and there is nothing more that I could ask for." I began sobbing uncontrollably as the tears strolled down my cheeks. "It may seem needy, but I need you to do one more thing for me."
"Anything." I answered her, attempting to stop my sobs.
"Sing me a song. Not just anything. Sing me the song that you used to hum every night when you were fourteen." She smiled. I nodded. I had stopped sobbing. How could she remember that? That was such a long time ago. I used to hum Autumn Leaves by Ed Sheeran. She closed her eyes, smiling.
