“You okay, hun?”
“Just happy.” Despite what might come tomorrow, it was true. I was overwhelmed with happiness. “Thank you for being here.”
“We’ll always be here, Ave. We’re family.”
I breathed in her words and allowed the tears to come freely.
Maggie wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “We’ve got this. We’ve got you, okay? No matter what.”
I relaxed against her and closed my eyes, enjoying the calm before the storm.
While Bella-Rose was feeding, we debriefed about the birth. Harry shared things I had no memory of, his arm encircling us possessively. Maggie laughed when he told her I had screamed out ‘I need to rise’ into the silent room and then roared. My eyes flicked to Tracey’s whose eyes glistened with knowing. Good girl.
“Beautiful and fierce.” Harry kissed the side of my face.
I turned my body so I was leaning against his chest and tucked my head into his neck. I sensed Maggie moving around and heard the tiny shutter click in the silent room, but I didn’t move. This was exactly how I wanted him to remember us – his girls wrapped in his protective embrace.
62
HARRY
We got a week. One whole week, and despite the fear gripping my heart with every passing second, I was grateful.
I sat on the edge of our deck, resting my elbows on my knees and admired the sight of Avery reclining on the lounger bathed in sun with our daughter cradled against her chest.
Maggie was still here, moving in the shadows, capturing the moments I was recording in my heart.
I sat in awe watching Bella-Rose’s tiny fists clasp around her mother’s hands and heart as Avery whispered into the space between them.
“Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?” So heart-breakingly beautiful.
“Honestly? I don’t know if I ever will.” Maggie lowered herself beside me.
“You holding it together, Bro?”
“Trying to.”
“When does she go in?”
“First thing.”
“You want me to look after Bella-Rose?”
“No,” I answered resolutely. “She needs her.”
Maggie tucked her arm around my waist and rested her head on my shoulder.
“I get it now,” I admitted.
Avery pressed her cheek to Bella-Rose’s tiny head and the peace written over every inch of her face filled me with awe.
Maggie lifted her head off my shoulder. “Why she waited?”
I turned my eyes to hers and exhaled. “It felt like she was giving up, like she was choosing to leave me, but she wasn’t.”
“She was choosing this,” she whispered, turning back to Avery.
“I can’t do this alone,” I said, my voice breaking under the pressure of my revelation.
Maggie lifted her hand to the back of my head and rested her forehead against mine. “You’ll never be alone, Harry. You’ve got us always, and honey … ” Maggie pulled away and waited until I looked at her. “You’ve got Bella-Rose. That’s what she fought for, Harry. She’s her gift to you.”
It cost too much. “I’m terrified, Maggie. I can’t shake it. I’m not ready to let go.”
“So don’t, Harry. Don’t.”
I turned back to Avery and inhaled a long breath.
“How? How can I not think that every second that passes is one closer to the day all I’ll have is the ghost of her memory.”
“This was never going to be easy, Harry. But you can’t waste this time worrying about tomorrow.”
“I’m struggling,” I admitted.
“I know, hun. But this isn’t over yet. Avery’s still here and she's taking advantage of every single moment. You need to do the same.”
I looked at Avery again and replayed Maggie’s words. It was so hard to step out from under this dark cloud. It was crushing me under its weight. The knowing that this time, we wouldn’t win. The whisper that startled me awake in the middle of the night to find my bed empty. I’d search the house in a panic and find them – my girls – huddled up together, staring into each other’s eyes, blissfully unaware of the storm raging within me.
“Don’t let fear rob you of this time, Harry,” Maggie added, drawing me out of my thoughts. “You’ll never get it back, and it’ll be the thing you grieve most.”
I often found myself thinking of Avery’s lioness. The name she gave to that powerful fire that raged inside of her. I remembered the first time I’d seen it – at the park when she’d thought I was a sleaze. Then again in Taupo, when I’d admitted it scared me a little. I’d learned that her lioness was the part of Avery that never gave in. The fierce part that forced her to fight … to survive against the odds. The part that kept her alive. Her lioness turned up during some of her darkest times when she needed her most.
When Bella-Rose was being born, I recognised her in the way Avery rose off the bed, exhaustion and brokenness giving way to this miraculous strength that rose from within. It often made me think of the way I thought of God. That whisper in the dark that told me I was strong enough to endure, that nothing was impossible. That’s the part that resonated with Avery, that day in chemo when we’d spoken of God, she’d told me as much. It was the whisper.
The lion who lives in me.
I pushed myself up from my perch and raised my face to the sun, allowing our memories to wash over me. The sharp arrows of fear and pain marked me with vicious accuracy, but not even their poisoned tips could infiltrate the weekend.
Every moment we’d shared there, every word, every touch – those memories were carved in stone, impenetrable.
“Is there room for me?” I asked, leaning down to kiss my girls.
“Of course.” Avery scooted forward as I slid in behind them. “We’ve been waiting for Daddy, haven’t we, Bella?”
My chest expanded, allowing for the fullness of my heart. Avery twisted around, tucking herself into my embrace, our daughter cooing happily between us.
“Welcome to paradise, Daddy,” she whispered against my chest. I raised my hand to place it over hers as Bella-Rose’s tiny body rose and fell in perfect peace.
“Remember me like this.”
Her whisper was so quiet, I barely heard it before it floated away. Remember me like this.
63
“Harry,” Avery whispered.
Her tortured voice was serrated and tearing me up from the inside out. I turned away and breathed through pursed lips. I knew this was coming; how could I not when I’d spent so many nights by her side, in this hospital room, wishing there was some way I could ease her suffering. There wasn’t.
I knew what that meant, I knew … and yet I couldn’t allow myself to hear her. I couldn’t let her say it.
“Babe, look at me,” she pleaded.
I clenched my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut to try and find some semblance of control. I’d stood holding my wife’s hand and listened as Suzanna’s words smashed against me with brute ferocity. I’d heard every word as they’d lashed around inside me, slicing, tearing all hope to shreds. I’d felt the weight of Avery’s gaze as I’d dropped her hand and backed away.
I raised my hand in warning telling Suzanna to stop talking, to stop being so fatalistic. They hadn’t tried everything yet – there was another trial. Then I heard Avery’s gentle voice, wrapping around me, trying to draw me back from the edge.
I’ll do whatever it takes.
“I won’t accept it! We’re not there yet,” I cried, as if I had the right. As if the decision was mine. My fists closed around the metal bedrail as fear shook the ground beneath me.
“Please, Harry.” Avery reached up and ran her fingers along my lower arm. I felt a tug, a magnetic pull towards the hard linoleum floor as the great strongholds I’d built in the last three months crashed to the ground in a pile of rubble and smoke.
Three months in which my beautiful, courageous wife had endured unspeakable pain and exhaustion in the fight for her life.
“Harry.”
I couldn’t look at her pained expression or the pleading in her eyes. The words I should have said gathered in my ears, but I couldn’t form them on my tongue.
“It’s time.”
“No, Ave.” I shook my head. “You just need a break, then we’ll try again – we’ll try something else.” I glanced at Suzanna. It only took one look at the tears trailing down her cheeks and the slight shake of her head for my legs to falter. I drew in a panicked breath, but the nuclear explosion that just decimated my heart sucked all the oxygen out of the room.
Hands wrapped around me and lowered me to a chair as the edges of my vision blurred.
“It’s time to let her go home, son,” Tracey whispered when my eyes rose to meet hers. I was transfixed by her gaze, the scream raging inside of me filling every cell with its painful release. Tracey watched intently, holding me firm until the fire in my eyes simmered.
“She’s fought a good fight,” she said, and then lowered her hands from my face.
Oh God. She has. She’s fought so damn hard.
I looked at Bella-Rose, perfectly oblivious that her life was about to change forever, Maggie’s words sounded in my ears.
That’s what she fought for. She is her gift to you.
I drew in a ragged breath and allowed my eyes to trail up to Sally who held our daughter in her arms. Her pale face contorted with grief, a reflection of my own. She bit her lower lip and acknowledged the truth, without words, then turned away from me, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks.
I covered Tracey’s hands with mine and squeezed. She took a moment to study my expression before releasing me from her motherly hold and rising to her feet.
It’s time to let her go home.
I stood, moved to my wife’s side and rested my palms on the sides of her face. She measured my expression as I lowered my face and brushed my lips over hers. “I love you.”
She slid her hand up the back of my neck and pressed her forehead to mine. “Take me back to paradise, Prince.”
I touched my lips to hers in acquiescence while her splayed hand held me in place. Then I did as she asked.
Every day that passed, we counted as a blessing. Avery’s whole face lit up when Cooper and Libby arrived the day after I brought her home. Maggie was back, and Tracey had never left. We laughed and shared memories together as Avery lay between us.
In the first few days, it felt normal, as if the weight of her burden had been lifted, but by the end of the first week, Avery was becoming lost to us, one moment at a time.
She would engage with us as she floated in and out of consciousness, giving in to the crushing weight of her exhaustion mid-conversation.
Sometimes she’d laugh when we thought she was asleep, or demand silence, or beg for us to fill the room with life. Sometimes she would call for her baby, or her prince, or babble incoherently, and we endeavoured to give her everything she wanted.
I’d caress her face and watch a smile dance on her lips as she experienced her own private slideshow, wishing I could see what she could. On occasion, she’d bring us into her invisible world, and it was a privilege beyond words. Other times, she’d lay still … statuesque. We came to recognise those were the times when the pain overwhelmed her, and she’d retreated to the savannah.
Each day rolled into the next, and we were both grateful and aggrieved for the extra time. Avery was in her own world more often than in ours, and we watched as the shadow of death moved over her, staking its claim.
It was late afternoon on the tenth day when Avery woke, and for the first time in days, I could see her. The haze had lifted from her eyes, and the sight of it breathed life into my burdened soul.
“Take me to Samoa, Harry,” she asked, with perfect diction, raising a palm to my cheek … an expression of pure contentment.
I gathered her in my arms, glanced over at Sally who was playing with her niece on a mat in the sun and nodded. Reading the moment perfectly, Maggie gathered up cushions and blankets and ran out the sliding doors to set up a place for us on the sand.
I’ve been here before, you know.
I lowered myself onto the sand, placed Avery between my legs and wrapped her in the blankets Maggie provided, followed by my arms.
“It’s so beautiful here,” she said, resting her head back against my shoulder, focusing just beyond the horizon.
“You’re so beautiful,” I whispered against her cheek as I pressed a quivering kiss to her skin. “Thank you. For letting me love you.”
“I had no choice. I couldn’t live without you,” she whispered.
I was grateful for this moment and her voice, which I’d thought was lost to us.
You don’t have to. I pressed my lips to her temple as grief threatened to overwhelm me.
We watched in intimate silence as the sun lowered and painted the sky a brilliant shade of red.
“Be happy, Harry,” she said, drawing in a deep, ragged breath. “Don’t be sad forever. Promise me.” Every word cost her and cost me.
“I can’t,” I said. I’d never lied to her. How could I commit to that when I knew, once I surrendered to this pain, I’d never be the same again?
“For her, please.” Her feather-light words were caught by the wind.
As if prompted, Sally stepped onto the sand and placed Bella-Rose in Avery’s arms. Silent sobs vibrated through my body as I wrapped my arms around hers. How could I deny her that final request?
Our daughter fixed her eyes on her mother’s and raised her tiny hand to Avery’s lips … as if she knew.
Avery kissed it instinctively then moved her face around and tucked herself into my neck, inhaling a shallow breath. Bella-Rose moved her hand around to cup Avery’s cheek. When her tiny chin started to quiver, I raised her to my chest where she could lie next to her mumma and clasped Avery’s hand between us.
“I promise,” I whispered, pressing my lips to Avery’s head.
“I love you.” Avery exhaled the words in short breaths against my skin.
It’s time to let her go home.
“We love you, Ave – so much.” I squeezed her hand, fighting to do what I knew I had to do. There was no healing waiting around the corner, no miracle treatment. This was it. I had to love my wife enough to let her go.
Beautiful and fierce.
I closed my eyes and watched her rise up in strength. I breathed it in – the power of her courage – and spoke the words, which formed valiantly on my lips.
“You can go in peace, beautiful – we’ll be okay.” I pressed my lips to her face and breathed in the life that remained. “We love you. We’ll miss you, but you can go now. Go to paradise, my love.”
My words still rang out when the rasping sound of her breath ceased, and her body fell against mine, but it wasn’t until my daughter’s wail echoed in my ears that I felt the full weight of my grief.
“Oh God. Oh God. Oh, no … ” I heard the words, as if they belonged to someone else, ringing out in the air around me.
Sally reached down to take my wailing daughter out of my arms as I rocked back and forth on the sand, my wife’s body slack against me.
“No, baby, no. Come back, Ave! No!” I called, pressing my lips to her face, trying to love her back to life. “Please God, no.”
It won’t get me.
It will be enough. However long we have, it will be enough.
“No!” I screamed into the air, raising my stiffened, shaking hands to my face, my wife’s body balanced on my chest between my arms. “It wasn’t enough … Oh God. Oh God.” I had to get away. I looked around in a panic, my hands curling into the sand beneath me.
“I’ve got her, bro,” Cooper said, sliding up beside me, a strong hand on my shoulder. “Harry, I’ve got her,” he repeated, his own face streaked with pain. I
threw my arms up and slid back in the sand as Cooper took his sister into his embrace.
My jaw clenched, my arms shaking at my sides as I stood and looked around at the stricken faces of our family standing on the lawn … one by one.
It was over. Oh God. My wife was dead.
The scream I’d silenced and stuffed deep down into the pits of my soul rose with violent intent and raged out of me. And then a sudden silence erupted, gathering up all the noise as if someone had flicked a switch.
The roar I could still feel on my lips, my daughter’s uncontrollable wailing, the ocean crashing on the shore, the wind whipping through the trees, their muffled grief … our world, bathed in so much light, went black.
I felt a touch on my arm and turned to see Tracey mouthing something, motioning towards the house. I shook my head, although even that movement felt foreign as if my head was no longer attached to my body. I looked back down at my wife, the haze descending, her still body rocking in her brother's arms as his body shook with grief.
I stepped back and pressed my eyes closed, trying to block it out.
I watched our film rewind, our life together flashing behind my eyelids. And there she was at the park … cartwheeling, breaking out in song. I saw the scene burst into colour, and I felt it again – the way my body came alive at the sight of her … that peace that came with knowing my wait was over – that she was mine.
I saw her stripping down to her underwear and diving into the freezing lake in Taupo, tempting me with her freedom, with her strength.
I saw her strutting into the hospital in those sexy black heels, her body betraying the deception of her words.
I saw her in her honeymoon lingerie, shaving off her beautiful mane as she bent over the vanity, heartbroken, and yet breathtakingly courageous at the same time.
I heard the beat of the African drum, and then Abi’s mesmerising voice wrapped around me as I saw her, my bride – in a wedding dress – smiling up at me … in awe, in love.
I saw her teasing. Playing. Seducing me, her lips spread wide with laughter.
I saw her. Beautiful. Free. Full of life.
I saw her, pressing her lips to our daughter’s cheek. Joy-filled. Content.
Then She Roars Page 30
