Ryan's POV
Her little fingers touch the smooth surface of the framed picture that is too large for her to hold. She's lying down on my bed, examining the picture with her curious eyes, that are an exact copy of her mother.
"She looks beautiful." Admiration is clear in her voice, even though she doesn't know who the woman in the picture is. It was taken on the day of our wedding, in a church. She was radiating with happiness and I was happier than her to see how glad she was to marry me.
I try to speak, but no sound comes out. It's not like I expected her to say something about the picture. When she found the picture over my cupboard while jumping on my bed, I didn't think she would ask anything about it. But, it's hard to not give a second glance to such a beautiful woman. I nod in agreement to her words and wait for her to ask something about my wife.
"Who is she?" My mouth turns try and my tongue sticks to the upper walls of my mouth. But, I still manage to speak.
"She's your momma." I say, nervously. Her usual cheerful smile is absent as she stares at the photograph.
"Where is she?" She asks. Most single parents would feed lies about how the other parent has become an angel to watch them from heaven. But, I won't do that. I won't lie to my child just because it would make her feel better for this one moment. It's better to face the truth than to be comforted by a lie.
"She's dead." I say, my voice partially shaking. I hope she didn't notice it.
"What is that?" She asks, with confusion. My little girl is always full of questions, most of them I have no answers to. I want to be completely honest with my daughter and tell her the realities of life. But, I don't want to pressurize my three year old with something as dark as death, the end point of everything.
"You won't know it now. You'll understand when you're a big girl." Her face shows disappointment, and she tries with her eyes to coax me into tell her what she wants. I'm not going to fall for this.
"I am a big girl, dada. Miss Marie said that I am a big girl, so I should have my food by myself!" She grins. It's beautiful how the littlest things can make kids so happy. But, as we grow, we expect for more and more. Our high expectations make us forget about the small things in life that will bring us happiness.
"Wow! That's really nice. From tomorrow, you can eat your food by yourself!" I say, enthusiastically and the talk about her mother is now forgotten. She is little now, and it's easy to manage the situation and procrastinate having to tell her all the truth. But, I'm scared about what I would do when she grows up, and demands to know about her mother? How could I possibly could answer without shattering into pieces?
Time passes by soon, and she falls asleep on my shoulder after having dinner. I read her a story that doesn't involve princesses being saved by princes. My baby won't be a damsel in distress, she can protect herself. As soon as she's asleep, I carry her to her room, and tuck her into bed. I kiss her forehead, whisper that I love her and switch off the lights before leaving the room.
In just two months, it's going to be four years, since Darcy was born. Four years since my wife died, giving birth to Darcy. Others think that I have gotten over the loss because I seem better, but they don't know that it's all a wall I have built to protect myself from the world in which she no longer exists. I'm scared Darcy would come to know that her loving father hates the day she was born on. She doesn't know that she took her first breath of air, the same time her mother took her last.
It doesn't help that Darcy looks and behaves exactly like her mom. I don't know how I'm going to raise my baby without completely shattering into pieces. She needs me with her until she grows up into an independent woman, has a job and a bright future.
I'm not just another normal dad, who wants only the best for his daughter. I know she'll face terrible things in life, and be heartbroken several times. I want her to face all the difficult things life throws at her face, so that she doesn't end up like her father who can't keep himself together, who can't get over his wife's death even after years. I want my daughter to be able to face everything, no matter how hard it is and I'll be there next to her to teach her to overcome everything.
Parenting is very difficult if you want to do your best. I'm scared that something will happen to me, and my daughter will be left all alone in this world. There are people to support her, like my parents and brother. But, nobody can replace parents. She has only one parent, and I don't want her to lose me as well. I don't want to do anything wrong with my parenting. My wife had so many dreams for our baby, and I don't want to disappoint her or ruin Darcy's life. There is so much pressure demanding me to shape my life a certain way, and I'm scared it will break me.
My phone vibrates, and I unlock it to see a message from my colleague Nat.
'I hope you have made a decision, the right one.' The message reads.
Nat is not just my colleague but the brother of my wife's and my favorite author- Elizabeth Whitmore. My wife and I used to read her books together in our university library. We slowly began falling in love not just with the words in the books, but with each other as well. In fact, Elizabeth's words play a big role in bringing us together.
Her husband's death was bad news for me. Elizabeth and Max were always the role model couple to everyone. Paparazzi was always keen on spreading rumors about their relationship. According to them, Max has cheated on her a few hundred times, she cheated on him about ten times and she died several times. Because of all the rumors that is spread about them, I didn't take the news of Max's death seriously. I thought it was just another rumor because the media didn't have any other interesting news. But, when I saw her on television with red eyes, walking out of a hospital, I knew that it was real. Maxwell Reynolds, the legendary actor had died.
Thee book that was supposed to be published in a few weeks' time wasn't published. She stopped showing up outside her house, and rumors started off that she became insane because Max 'cheated' on her. It is terrible how insensitive these people can be, sometimes. Her brother Nat didn't show up to work. He also happens to be the head of a department that has no link with mine. So, I wasn't able to ask him about her wellbeing.
To my surprise, he approached me last week. It was unusual because people like him to talk to basic employees of the enterprise. He explained to me nervously about his sister's position and asked me for help. I was of course very happy to be of help, but the problem was I didn't know how I could help her. If she needed help, he should take her to a counselor, not her fan.
I don't know what I can do to help her. But, I want to do something. I'm scared of the life I'm living. I don't want to turn into one of those cold men who can't have an emotional connection with anyone. If I turn into that kind of a man, it surely will affect Diana negatively. I want to let out my sorrows to someone without worrying about being judged. I want a no strings attached relationship where I can just share my sorrows. I don't want a personal connection with the person. I want to be able to get out of it when I am relieved of my pain.
Maybe, just maybe, Elizabeth Whitmore can be that person. I wouldn't have to meet her after we are both okay. We could talk for a few days, and when both of us are free from our losses, we can go our separate ways, just the way it was. I don't know how I'll be able to help her, but I know that I have to help her. With newfound surety, I text back Nat telling him that I agree to his proposal.
###
A/N:
Sorry for not updating for a whole month. Maybe, you all thought I gave up on the story, but I won't be giving up on Elizabeth until I'm done with the story. :) I was busy with things, and didn't want to be distracted by writing stories. Fast updates can be expected for the next two months because I have lot of free time!!