her remedy

26

That week. That month. That year.

I had to say goodbye to a newborn, my newborn. I had to hold my lifeless baby in my arms and tell him how much I, as his mother, loved him. I said it several times, but no amount of times will ever do. I kissed his little face several times, but no amount of kisses will ever do. I sealed the image of him in my heart, but just an image will never do.

Seeing Simon cry and say goodbye to his son broke my already shattered heart. The love of my life, the one who I created this little life with, had to say goodbye.

When they closed his tiny casket, I lost it. I couldn't bear to see them close it. I couldn't bear to accept that I would never see my precious child ever again.

I would never get to hold and kiss him again.

Simon, just as crushed as I was, held me against him while I sobbed. He took my hand and gently squeezed it, just like he always does when I'm afraid or upset.

He gave me the strength to let go of Angelo's hand.

He gave me the strength to tell my sweet baby I loved him.

He gave me the strength to painfully watch the casket be lowered into the ground and covered with dirt.

He would be the only source of strength I had in the dark months ahead.

*

We didn't go home after being released from the hospital. We didn't go home right after the funeral. We went home a week after.

Pulling into the driveway broke me. I couldn't believe I was here without my child. When I left the house, I fully expected to return with Angelo.

But things just didn't happen that way.

Simon shut the car off and we sat in silence in the driveway. We were both lost in our minds and broken hearts.

I watched the steady stream of water run down the windshield. It reminded me of the steady stream of tears that had been running down my face for days.

After a while, Simon took my hand in his own. It was soft, warm, and comforting. Just like always.

"I watched you sleep last night." He says without looking at me.

I don't respond with anything but a small smile.

He continues, "You looked tranquil and calm. Your face was emotionless and you were in the same position you always sleep in. It brought me back to all those nights when I would wake up and see you sleeping when we first moved in together, and all those nights when you finally got comfortable and could sleep with your massive belly."

I laugh. It's not like the way I used to laugh; that loud, borderline obnoxious cackle. It's a standard laugh, and that almost hurts.

"I watch you sleep too. It brings me a lot of comfort to see you so content." I say, my gaze focused straight ahead.

He smiles. "Your beauty radiates off your body when you're asleep and when you're awake. You're just so beautiful inside and out and I don't know how I ever got so blessed to be with someone like you."

"I question that everyday, Simon." I exhale. "Everyday I wonder what I ever did to deserve you."

There's a pause. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him turn around. His hand retreats to my thigh, something he does often and something that I've grown to love.

"We're almost going to be together for two years. We've been through so, so much in that small amount of time." He mentions.

It is true. In those two years we have traveled throughout the US and the UK. We have been to award shows, and done random things involved with my career. He has helped me recover from my vocal surgery, he had broken up with me until I flew to Chicago, kissed another man, and we fought until we realized nothing would tear us apart. We had gotten pregnant with a little boy only to bury him days after.

Yes, we have been through a lot.

Simon takes a deep breath and continues, "As I was watching you sleep, I remembered all of those times we had promised each other we would stay together no matter what."

"I know we'll keep that promise, Simon." I say, not breaking away from his beautiful, familiar eyes.

"Of course we will. We have the most powerful thing; love. It's going to get us through these months. I know it will be hard and painful, but we have each other. You're all I need, Adele. With your love, I can get through anything."

"I don't know where I'd be without you." I say, pressing my lips to his. It's the first real, genuine kiss we've had since Angelo was born. I've missed the feeling of his lips on mine. I've missed the way that the world always just disappears, taking my fear and pain with it.

The moment of no pain doesn't last long. I pull away and just rest my head on his shoulder. He runs his hand down my back, kissing my cheek.

After a while, I break away from him completely and take a deep breath. "We can do this, Simon."

"I know we can." He says, giving me a small smile. "Let's go home."

Home.

It's going to be a while until I can be in this house without wondering what it would be like if Angelo was home with us.

*

Simon and I both collapsed in sobs throughout that week. Seeing the empty, useless nursery broke us in half. All of the happiness and excitement that once occupied that room was gone and replaced with heavy sadness.

It seemed as though the house was quieter than normal. It was missing something, someone, it was missing our
baby.

We slept closer together than we used to for months after. Our pain was shared, our heartbreak mutual.

We said "I love you" several times, meaning it more than ever.

Simon really had become my strength. The way I love him now, after all that's happened, is different. I love him and his gentle soul more than ever.

He's the only one keeping me together, preventing me from falling apart entirely. He's the only one that can make me smile even on my worst days.

Each aching day, however, did become ever so slightly easier.

I don't think it was time that healed us though.

I know we only started to heal because we had love.

And love can do absolutely anything.