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After losing Carolina, things strained among everyone in my circle of friends. Everyone walked on eggshells, was careful when they said things to me, and just babied me; the only people who didn’t act like that were Christopher and London. When one of them wasn’t over, the other was and they the ones to take the time to get me out of bed and off my butt. I was on leave with pay from work, so I had money to support myself coming in still. My boss knew what it was like to lose a child so I was told to take all the time I needed away. I was seeing a therapist, I made my mother and Charlotte sleep in the same bed as me, and Alex was showing up around my home less and less.

May told me that Jack wasn’t going to be coming around for a while and I understood. He had been so proud, so happy for those few moments he held our little girl and then it was ripped from him, from us. I didn’t really want to see Jack either; it would only make me feel guilty. Alex, however, I wanted to be with, but when I called he made excuses. He was pulling away and it killed me.

Charlotte constantly asked where her baby sister was and I didn’t have the heart or words to tell her. London – the non-religious man that he was – surprisingly told her that Carolina loves her so much, but had to go back to Heaven to help God, and that God was so happy that Charlotte was being a good girl for her mommy. I never appreciated London more than I do now. It also made me feel better that he came over every four days to help my mother do house work.

Aside from going to a therapist, I spent most of my time with Charlotte. I drove her to play dates, the park, to the store, and basically did everything for and with her. She was my complete focus now. It wasn’t until now that I realized that sometimes children can die before their parents.

My therapist was a woman Cynthia Franklin. She was at least around my mother’s age, forty or so, wore pencil skirts and blouses, and kept her hair tied back in a knot, always. I told her about that day in the hospital and she was quite sympathetic about it. Most of our sessions were about me being able to accept death and I made progress. It was a month before I was okay, just okay, with losing Carolina. I mentioned my anxiety of losing Alex and that became the new topic of discussion and dissection.

“How is your relationship with Alex now?” Cynthia asked. We sat on the balcony of her office having coffee and looking out over the city scenery.

Running my finger along the lip of the cup, I stared at the liquid inside. “I called him yesterday.”

“Oh? And how did it go?”

“He didn’t answer this time. At least the last time I called he said hello, but now…” I trailed off.

“But now he’s ignoring you?”

“Yes, exactly, as if he weren’t already trying to ignore me before.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “What if you decided to let him go?”

I stayed silent. Did I want to let him go; would I be able to forgive myself if I did? I had spent years with him constantly on my mind, I’d spent so many hours just on him. “I couldn’t do it.”

August soon came around. My sessions became less frequent, to just once a month type deals. Charlotte was beginning the first grade and she was so excited. On her first day, I put her in her pink, flower print dress and white shoes. She wasn’t one to play rough so I trusted her wearing the dress. For her lunch, I made her a Nutella and Marshmallow Fluff sandwich and bagged it with water and slices of apples and red grapes.

That morning she had begged me to take her to the Ugly Muffin for breakfast and being the pushover I was at the moment, I agreed. Even though it was now called the South American Grill, it still served many things that we loved, in particular the ugly muffin. Charlotte was in love with the baked good as much as I was. I guess we both had an affinity for chocolate, caramel, apple muffins. After buying three dozen – which would all meet their untimely end before the week was up – we sat down by the window and had breakfast: juice and a muffin for Charlotte, and a coffee and muffin for myself.

Charlotte watched people and consumed her muffin happily as they walked by and I sat watching her, drinking my coffee. Occasionally she would wave at them and they would wave back. She was much too friendly; sometimes I thought she’d get kidnapped from hugging everyone she sees. I looked down into my cup and turned it around in my hand. Losing myself in my own thoughts, I didn’t notice Charlotte get up and run off. When I did, I saw her running down the side walk.

Gasping, I threw myself to my feet and sprinted after her. I can’t believe I let that happen. “Charlotte! Charlotte! Come back here.”

She ran and ran until finally she wrapped her arms around a pair of legs belonging to a man. Slowing down, I stopped meters away to see the man turning around.

“Daddy!” I heard her cry and my eyes widened.

Alex bent down to get eye-level with her. “Where’s your mommy? You know you shouldn’t run off.”

“Mommy’s at Ugly,” she said. “Daddy, I’m going to school today! Where have you been? I miss you.”

“I missed you too princess,” he sighed.

I stood there taking it all in, trying not to cry. My attention shifted as a woman bent down beside Alex and touched his shoulder, kissing his cheek. She was blonde and thin, smiling brightly. She held her hand to Charlotte who looked at it blankly. Good girl, stick up for your mommy. Biting my lip, I ran over. As I neared, they all looked up at me. Ignoring the two of them, I scooped Charlotte into my arms and hid my face in her little shoulder.

“Please don’t leave me,” I said to Charlotte, whispering just loud enough. “You’ll make mommy sad.”

“I’ll never make mommy sad,” Charlotte replied, leaning forward and giving me a kiss.

“Mommy loves you very deeply.”

“I love you too,” she replied hugging me around my neck tightly.

My eyes drifted to Alex and the girl. She was holding his hand. I studied her and she seemed nice enough. She was pretty and had a kind smile; I’m sure her personality was beautiful as well. Charming. I looked Alex over. He seemed embarrassed, not about her, but about me. He was embarrassed by me. I didn’t say anything as I turned around and got out of there. I kept my head held high as I walked back to get my things from the café. I took Charlotte to school, kissed her, and went to Cynthia’s, not for a therapy session, but for friendship.

Cynthia wasn’t much help though. She held me as I cried and rubbed my back. She didn’t know what to tell me except that I should take everything I learned about accepting loss and apply it to the situation. I don’t think it would have hurt as much though, if he had just had the courage to tell me he wanted to move on.

I went home after that and decided to lounge around in the pool. I used my iHome and played one of my playlists with Adele, Regina Spektor, and other female artists with songs that you want to listen to when you’re sad. It was noon when I told myself that I had to get out of the pool. As my alarm went off, I heard the door that led to the back deck open. Turning, I fell off the float into the water. Swimming back to the surface, I saw Alex standing there awkwardly. I got out and wrapped a towel around myself and approached him. We stood staring at each other.

“Stay for lunch?” I asked, my voice more feeble than I thought it’d be.

He stepped aside and followed me inside and to the kitchen. I was silent as I made us grilled cheese and tomato soup. He sat on the island watching me. In ten minutes, we were sitting next to each other, neither of us touching our food.

“You know, that was breaking and entering,” I said, stirring my soup with a spoon.

“Are you going to report me?” he asked, his knee bouncing.

“No.”

“Look, I…”

“Are you with that girl now?” I asked, looking at him.

He rubbed his hand over his face. “I guess you could say that.”

“So you and I are...?” I trailed off.

“Undetermined,” he said simply, shrugging.

“What happened?”

“I’m scared to be with you,” he replied, getting up.

I closed my eyes, holding my breath. This was killing me. “Alex,” I whispered, “If you leave me, you’re not going to only affect my life this time.”

“Look, I love Charlotte, but I can’t do this. It’s getting too complicated,” he said. I was silent for a moment and he began to make his way to leave.

“Alex, do you love me?” I asked. I kept my back to him as I waited for his response, or lack-there-of. Just as I was about to get up, his arms wound their way around my waist from behind and he rested his chin on my shoulder. My instinct was to push him away, but I couldn’t, not if this was possibly the last time he’d ever hold me. I felt him press him lips against my neck, giving me a kiss there. I closed my eyes and leaned back against him, placing my hands on his arms in hopes of keeping him there.

“I’ll always love you.”