I've Loved You Before

Chapter 2 - Let It Be

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When I find myself in times of trouble

Mother Mary comes to me

Speaking words of wisdom

Let it be

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

John felt guilt surge up inside him as Brady's cries echoed down the stairs. He should go to him, hold his son in his arms and comfort him. He couldn't. Not yet. Holding Brady, having his son stare up at him with deep brown eyes full of confusion, was too painful. He knew he was going to have to talk to someone about this crushing grief. He'd replayed Marlena's messages several times during the night, and early in the morning. They were full of empathy, and compassion. They scared him. If there was anyone he could be emotionally vulnerable with it was Marlena. Those messages were like a tether, pulling him towards the other side of town. Her voice was a call to the deepest parts of his soul.

He turned to see Hailey coming down the curved metal staircase with Brady in her arms. Her eyes locked with John's, "Do you want to hold him?"

Staring at his son, his chest constricted. Brady looked so much like his mother. His chestnut curls, with fawn and umber eyes. Brady turned quickly towards the sound of his father's voice, "Yeah, sure."

Passing Brady to John, Hailey studied him for a moment. He hadn't been sleeping well. She'd heard him shuffling around during the night, and she knew he'd gone downstairs early in the morning. She wanted to comfort him, maybe reach out and let him know that she was there for him, but he kept a distance from her. It was strictly professional.

As John reached for his son, he glanced down to see Hailey staring up at him with wide blue eyes. She was small, barely five feet tall by his estimate, and even though she was in her late twenties, she looked like a child. Her dark russet hair shone copper in the sunlight, and her round cheeks were dotted with freckles. She seemed surprised that they were so close, and she stepped back, stuttering, "I-I'm going to make Br-Brady's bottle."

With a smirk, John turned away from her, and settled himself on the couch, saying, "Thank you."

Brady stared at him, and John wondered how Isabella's death was affecting him. It must be hard to have his mother one day, and the next she was gone. At barely five months old, there was no way to explain death to him. John wondered if Brady dreamt of Isabella the way he did? Did Brady dream of her soft smiles, and the lilt in her voice when she said his name? Did he remember her gentle voice as she rocked him to sleep? Did he wake up feeling sad and alone, the same way he did?

John's chest constricted even tighter, and as Hailey approached with the bottle prepared to hand it to him, he stood up quickly. "I forgot," he told her. "I have somewhere I need to be. I'll be home later."

She seemed confused, "Oh, um, ok." She carefully took Brady into her arms, and watched John flee the room with sadness.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he was gasping for air when he reached his bedroom. He had to see Marlena, because if he needed anything right then, it was her friendship. She would be the only person he could talk to, because the mask he was wearing for everyone else was breaking down.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

And in my hour of darkness

She is standing right in front of me

Speaking words of wisdom