The Tragic Life

Chapter 1

WARNING: CHAPTERS 32 - 36 OF THIS BOOK CAN ONLY BE READ ON INKITT! LINK IN MY BIO ♥️

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I always said that I didn't want children until I was thirty. I figured that it was best to get my life together first with a secure job, nice house and healthy savings account before having to provide for another human being, but life has a way of throat punching your plans.

Although loving to me, Lewis, my daughter's father, wasn't the most maternal person, often passing opportunities to spend time with his nephews for his friends, skipping on birthdays, Christmases, or any family gathering in general, really.

A deep thinker, he could get lost in his thoughts for hours, making it hard for the people around him to get a conversation longer than two minutes. It's what I loved about him. I could sit and listen to him all day. And, I often did, laying in his arms while he explained why we needed to sharpen up for our planet, and how he thought everyone needed more holiday time at work.His brain didn't work like ours, it took things to the extremes. Passionate is one word I'd use to describe him. He fiercely cared about what he loved, which is very rare these days. It's something that I want to instil in Emily. I want her to know that her opinion counts and her dreams will come true.

It's been sixteen months without him, and I've been barely breathing. The shock of his death is still very raw in my mind. Nightmares so vivid they plague me every night, my senses on fire when I wake in a petrified mess. It's as if it's happening again, and it's driving me insane. A tiny hand pushing at my chin knocks me out of my wallowing. Emily is asleep on my chest as it seems the train journey is a little too much for her to handle. It's an early one, as I didn't want to have the time to overthink it and chicken out. We're headed to York where my best friend, Yasmin, lives with her husband, Matt.

The last time we saw one another was a few months after the funeral, and I was in no mind to remember much of it. I'm not proud of it, but I've been a really shitty friend over these recent months. Angry. I said things I didn't mean, wishing I could've taken the words back as soon as they left my mouth.

I missed their wedding day, the sight of them, or anyone happy eating me alive from the inside. I was in an incredibly dark place, not recognising the person I'd become. I was blaming everyone around me for my sadness, not able to come to terms with my reality. Pregnant, and alone — I had nobody.

Or so I thought.

Yasmin didn't make my self-destruction easy. All the missed calls turned into unannounced visits, and the more I shut her out, the harder she pushed her way in. At one point my depression got so bad that I couldn't physically pull myself out of bed, but she was there for me, booking time off work to make sure that I was looked after through the pregnancy until I moved into my grandma's empty house to escape her.

The brain is such a complex organ. It can do both amazing and terrible things. I'm just grateful that I finally saw the light, and got the help I needed before it was too late. The moment Emily's cries filled my ears, it changed me. It wasn't just me now. There was a defenceless baby also. A baby that I was so scared to see, because if she looked like him, then it was game over for me. But it wasn't true. Seeing Lewis in her only brought me joy. The painful type that still severs your heart, but joy none the less. Emily is all him, and I cherish it.

"Excuse me, that's my seat," a very masculine voice says, a hand coming into my line of vision as he points to the empty window seat beside me.

I almost swallow my tongue at the sight of him. Tall, he towers over me with his shoulders hunched, so his floppy, mucky blonde hair falls into his blue eyes. It's the type of blue that I'd buy in my jeans, only brighter as his face lights up in a smile.