What she left Behind | ONGOING

CHAPTER 10

─────  Mrs. Prescott  ─────

For the first time in years, probably, I haven't been able to get out of bed. It's something new to me to just stay sleeping in, letting the hours pass by. The only time I was out of bed was to give the keys to the lakehouse to Chloe. If I must be honest, I didn't feel like opening the door, but I wanted to help her. If going back there can give her a sense of closure then I'm glad that she chose a place filled with love and beautiful memories.

I heard a light knock on the door but I couldn't find the strength to look whose there. I just assumed it was my husband, probably trying to get me out of bed but knowing he will fail miserably.

"Honey?" his voice almost like a whisper. His amount of strength surprises me, I still don't know how he does it. I feel like a part of me is missing and it makes me think of all the years I have left where that giant hole I have within me will never be able to be filled. I truthfully feel like someone ripped off my entire soul. But I see my husband, all brave and ready to console me, not expecting anyone to do the same for him. I am very lucky to have him in my life.

The part that makes me feel even worse is that no matter how many times James has tried to convince me that this isn't my fault in these past couple of days, I still believe that it is.

The days seem longer since the funeral, making the suffering linger even more. I've gotten to the point of hating myself, but I haven't been able to tell him that, it would destroy him to know I felt that way about myself.

I haven't looked at myself in the mirror since the accident happened.

"You have to eat something," he says, sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a tray filled with something that smells delicious. But I can't have that; I still get sick to my stomach if I overeat.

"I'm not hungry," I reply.

"That's what you said last time, love, you can't just drink water, actual food has to get to your stomach."

I find some strength to sit up properly and finally look at him. His eyes are filled with nothing but understanding and sympathy.

"How are you so strong," I can't help but ask, I'm just genuinely curious as to how he does it.

"I guess one of us has to be," he lets out a heavy sigh and rubs the back of his head. "I am beyond devastated, Cath, truly. She was. . .Is my baby girl," he corrects himself at the last part and it makes my heart ache. Not in a sad way—surprisingly—but I like that he sees as if she isn't gone, her soul is still within all of us.

He grabs my hand and caresses the top of it with his thumb. "She will always be our daughter, you know that, right?"

"Of course I do, honey." I wiped away a small tear that escaped my eye without notice. "I just wish I could hug her tightly right now. To listen to her beautiful voice and to—" I cut myself off, not being able to continue what I was going to say next without having a voice crack.

Losing Savannah is so unfair.

"I came here not only to hopefully make you eat, but I also had the intention to suggest something," he says, causing me to furrow my eyebrows in confusion.

"What?"

"Perhaps you could—" he trails off, doubting himself if he should say it.

Curiosity gets the best of me. "What, honey?"

"Maybe you could talk to someone about this," he finally says and it truly doesn't sound like a good idea firsthand.

"You mean like a shrink?" I ask and he nods in response. "James, I don't know. . ."