Remnant [h.s]

chapter sixteen

If the ocean can calm itself, so can you.

☆ ☆ ☆

Arwen Milton

Every time Harry left me with the kids to get himself drowning in liquor, it always felt like the longest time that I was sat by the window as the night drew in, waiting for headlights to shine down the drive and for Harry to return in once piece.

Every second felt like an hour whilst waiting for him. And my poor mind was often running in circles of all the possibilities that could happen to Harry whilst he was out.

I was worried about him and I wasn't scared to admit that. He was in a state when he left, he had been crying and his mind was a mess. I know he wouldn't agree, but right now he was vulnerable.

What felt worse to me, was the fact that Harry wouldn't even call or text me to let me know where he was, who he was with and if he was safe. I knew it sounded silly as I was acting like a worried mother and probably swaddling him too much, but his mind isn't healthy right now, and god knows what sort of trouble he could get himself into, and I wouldn't be able to come and rescue him because he never communicates with me.

Even a text to tell me that he was fine would suffice for now.

But he doesn't see it the way I do, whilst he's downing alcohol at godspeed, he doesn't think to just send a little text to cure my anxieties.

I try not to let my fear show around the kids, Binx was already on high alert and confused, and Sully was just so sad, I didn't want to upset them anymore than they already were. So I kept my time waiting by the window to a minimum, I stopped checking my phone like a hawk every five seconds, and I just allowed nature to do the rest.

But of course, the anxiety still persisted no matter how many time I tried to shake Harry from my mind.

My biggest fear was finding him dead. And I think considering everything, that was a pretty valid fear to have. We were going through unpredictable times and Harry had already shared with me that he didn't want to be here anymore, not that I think he'd do anything intentionally, I just think his mind would get the best of him and the ending wouldn't be pretty.

After getting Binx and Sully fed and bathed, I gently wash their tear stained faces and lovingly caress their hair with shampoo, just how I imagine Jazz would do. I scrub them both clean of sadness and wrap them up in fluffy towels as if it was going to provide them with the happiness they needed.

Wrapping them in a fluffy towel was the equivalent of wrapping them up in bubble wrap. If they were wrapped up in softness, then in my mind, nothing could hurt them. I just wanted these children to be the safest and happiest they've ever been. That's all I ask.