One Night in New York

Chapter Thirty-One

My family of three was soon a family of four. It was incredible to witness my son's birth. I couldn't believe my wife's strength as she brought our baby boy into the world. As I witnessed such an amazing miracle, my love for her grew stronger than ever before. I was looking forward to going home with my wife and newborn, but for some reason, that wasn't the plan. From the beginning, that was never meant to be. Our design was to meet, fall in love, and for my wife to give me two amazing children. Her purpose was to change me in every way a person could possibly be changed. I would go on without her in my arms but hold her forever in my heart.

They say she died as a result of a postpartum hemorrhage. She lost too much blood too quickly, causing her blood pressure to plummet. They were unable to stabilize her, and she eventually went into shock and passed away. I don't remember her, but my father, Liam, and my family always said she was a wonderful woman and the love of his life. My entire life, as I grew older, I replayed every video of her that my father had captured, and gazed at thousands of photographs of her, like frozen moments in time. She had an effect on him that no other woman has ever been able to match. She loved fiercely and made sure everyone in her life knew how much she valued them. And my father was the best father a child could have. He also never remarried, unable to give his heart to another. My grandfather Thomas moved in permanently, and Alyssa, Andrew, Angie, and Marcus all helped raise my brother Liam and me. We never moved into the house my parents were building in Jericho, New York because my father said it was for them and not just him. So we stayed exactly where they had been in love all along, my father unable to bring himself to move.

Angie took it hard, I was told, but she never forgot to tell me about their friendship. I got a taste of their lives through her stories, wishing I could share her love firsthand. Alyssa missed her as well, constantly bringing up things I did that reminded her of my mother. Her death was sudden and unexpected, affecting everyone in her life and making it difficult to move on even as the months turned to years.

My name is Connie Taylor, I am twenty-three, and Liam Jr. is twenty-one. I am standing in the spot where they first met one night in New York on October 11, 2019, with my best friend Kara and our husbands. My parents were the couple everyone wanted to be like, and I had always hoped I was like my mother. Why am I standing here? Because I like to think of their love story as I picture them together in my mind, and for some reason, Kara and I have been drawn to this spot every month since we both found out we were pregnant. She is due on April 18 with a girl she is naming Natalie, and I am due on February 28 with a boy I plan to name Liam, which is ironic because those are my mother and father's birthdays. This was always my father's favorite spot because it was where he first met my mother, the night she changed his life.

I grew up on stories about her and my father, wishing I could have experienced it for myself. I also heard she loved me to heaven and back, so she would always say, that I was her reason for breathing. If that is the case, then why did she have to leave me? I've struggled with that question my entire life, but my father had always told me not to ask why she left us because it wasn't her choice.

I get angry at times, but I know it wasn't her fault she left me. I wished she could have been there for every milestone she missed. I never got to have her drive me to kindergarten on my first day. She didn't get to see me lose my first tooth or kiss the scrapes on my knees as I fell. I couldn't run to her for advice when I got my first boyfriend. I had to get ready without her for my first prom, wishing she could help me with my hair. She missed my high school and college graduations, not getting to see me walk across the stage. And she will never meet the baby in my womb or the man who is currently holding my hand next to me. She missed my wedding, the day I needed her the most, and she will miss the birth of my son, Liam.

Today is October 11, the anniversary of the day they met. What happened to my father? They said he died of a heart attack, but I believe he died of a broken heart. They say he never recovered from her death and only lived to see us grow. He could finally let go now that we were adults. According to what I've heard, he was only happy when he was with my mother, but he was still a wonderful father who I will miss dearly. Yes, I miss my father, but I am also relieved that he now has my mother. I imagine them high in the clouds, lying under the stars, finally holding her as he had wished. I can't be selfish in wanting him back because he missed her so much and needed to be with her. He needed her again, and she waited patiently for him to return home. As I close my eyes, fighting back tears, I imagine them laughing together. I wish I could remember her, but she will live on in my heart.