It was the perfect place.
God, I miss you. The burn of tears that were never far away stabbed my eyes.
The rain that’d been a constant companion for a week stopped the moment we arrived. It was as if the mourning period had been put on hold to celebrate the life of one taken so young.
I’d existed in a fog all week. I didn’t like to dredge up excruciating memories of Oscar finding me still holding Clara, or the hearse that came to take her away. I didn’t like to recall the agony and tears of telling Clue that our little trio had been broken. I’d been terrified Clue would resort to self-harming again—to find a release—but I hadn’t factored in the comforting presence of Ben.
Clue had been so amazingly strong. She’d held me while I broke. She’d cried with me and laughed with me. She kept me sane. And it was all because Ben was her pillar, feeding her strength, giving her the safe haven she needed.
Ben did for Clue what Fox should’ve done for me. I had no one to bury myself in or cry myself to sleep in their arms. I would always love Clue like a sister and could never have existed without her, but I needed…him. I needed his strength, his fight. I needed his anger and even his fuckedupness. Instead, he left me to fumble all alone and proved just what an asshole he was.
Ben kept me alive the past week. He held us until we almost passed out from tears. He gathered us close and gave us a rock to cling to while grief threatened to wash us away from this world.
He fed us when we forgot to eat, and he began our therapy early. Instead of letting us wallow in sorrow, he found every painting Clara had ever created, every picture of her, every macaroni glued statue she’d done at school and made Clue and me tell him stories of my daughter.
He reminded us she would never be gone as long as we kept her alive in our thoughts, and we had to remember the good not the bad. We had to keep living for her.
A few days after Clara’s death, Clue received a phone call that shot life back into her. She went from couch potato to a whirlwind of efficiency and threw herself into arranging the most perfect funeral any little girl could want.
I looked over at my non-blood sister. The breeze ruffled her straight black hair and tears glistened in her eyes. She nodded, feeling the same bond, the same need to remind ourselves we were there for each other.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “For this. For everything.”
“Don’t thank me. There’s someone else you should thank, too.”
I looked over my shoulder at Ben. He looked regal and dapper in a black suit, black shirt, and the requisite My Little Pony badge over his heart. The funeral was in Clara’s honour—and My Little Pony had been her favourite.
My heart squeezed hard, threatening to send me keeling over.
I can’t do this.
I wrapped my arms tighter around myself, gathering the black mournful dress I wore and holding the shattered pieces of my heart.
Don’t cry.
I’d shed more tears the past week than I ever thought possible. I should’ve shrivelled into a husk with the amount of water I expelled. But no matter how much I wailed and cursed, I didn’t feel better. The tears escaped, but my sorrow didn’t. It sat festering in my soul, mixing with loneliness and slow building hatred for the man who’d left me when I needed him the most.
After everything I’d sacrificed for him. After everything I’d given him, he couldn’t bring himself to even attend Clara’s funeral. I’d not only lost my daughter forever, but him, too. I would never forgive him for leaving me to face this without him.
Not once did I think about the baby inside me. Not once did I turn to Clue or Ben and tell them the news. I wanted to forget. I wished I wasn’t pregnant. I wanted life to stop and leave me the fuck alone. Nothing else existed but the death of my daughter.
“Don’t feel sad, mummy. I don’t want you to feel sad.”
Sunshine suddenly pierced through the rolling grey clouds like a giant spotlight. The bright ray landed on a beautiful horse with a red-speckled coat and pink mane and tail. A roan.
My heart flopped thinking of a little red-haired boy who’d lost his entire family only to turn around and watch me lose mine. Where had he gone? What the hell was he doing?
What was more important than being here to say goodbye?
More rays of sun beamed through clouds, turning the rolling meadows into glittering green blades, swaying gently with the breeze. The horses glowed like equine jewels, and I knew this was the right place for Clara. Nowhere else would’ve fit.
I didn’t know how Clue managed to find such an idyllic spot. I hadn’t bothered to ask. If Clue hadn’t helped me arrange everything, I would probably be mummified lying on Clara’s bed staring at the ceiling.
“Come on, Zelly. It’s about to start.” Clue wrapped an arm around my waist. I gave her a watery smile and let her guide me to a small semi-circle of black-shrouded people.
Everyone wore a My Little Pony item and the flowers dotting the small group were arrangements of ponies of different colours. Some unicorns, some with wings, some glitter-filled, some glow in the dark.
Clue and I had scoured all the toy shops and second-hand sellers for as many My Little Ponies as possible. There were so many I had no idea what I’d do with them afterward.
The reverend began to talk, and I tuned out. Ignoring the small huddle of children from Clara’s school and a few teachers who’d come to say goodbye, I stared at the horses. So powerful but delicate. So strong but gentle.
They hypnotised me as the service droned on and on. I didn’t need to know how miraculous Clara had been. I’d lived it.
“I’m tired. I’m going to sleep now.”
Finally, the reverend’s sermon came to an end and arms went around me. I shut myself down, focusing only on the animals my daughter loved more than anything in the world. I couldn’t stand people touching me, consoling me.
Once the final stranger had hugged me and a hushed expectation filled the air, I panicked.
I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t do this.
I’m not ready!
The reverend walked toward me, and I took a step back, shaking my head. He took my arms gently and laid the hand-painted urn in my hands.
It was cold and lifeless and my façade broke. A single tear streaked down my face knowing I would never hold Clara again. Never see her smile or laugh or grow.
“Don’t be mad at him, mummy. He needs you.”
My sadness switched to anger. Him. He did this. The man who loved my daughter so fiercely, he made the clock tick faster—take her quicker than I ever wanted.
My mind tried to tell me it was a blessing. That she’d gone before being paraded through hospitals or prodded by merciless doctors. She was free now. But the mother in me couldn’t see it that way. It didn’t matter that she was in a better place and eternal. All that mattered was she was dead.
And Fox ran.
Standing in the patch of sun, hugging the urn of my daughter’s ashes, I tried to cry. I wanted to rain tears on the field just like the sky had before. I wanted to let every crushing thing inside out.
But nothing happened. I just existed in hell.
An image of a new child filled my mind. Instead of a little girl, I pictured a boy. An innocent infant who would never know his big sister. The picture stabbed my heart. I didn’t want him. I didn’t want the responsibility of loving something more than life itself only to run the risk of losing him just like Clara.
I didn’t have the strength. My life had hit rewind and replay, leaving me at the beginning again with endless heartache, no future, and a baby growing inside me.
A horse flicked its tail and cantered forward. The burst of life cast away my worry of the future, and I turned inward. I wasn’t ready, but it was time to say goodbye.
Closing my eyes, I whispered, “I wish you hadn’t left me. I wish you were still here. I can’t go on without you. I can’t live without you near. How am I supposed to go on, Clara? How am I supposed to survive?”
The build-up of emotion crushed my head until I thought I’d explode. Opening my eyes, I stroked the urn, tracing the explosion of stars on the glazed porcelain.
“I’ll never forget your perfect laugh or your smiling face. I’ll never stop loving your silly jokes or your warm embrace. I’ll always be here for you even though you’re gone. Until the day we meet again, until my life is done.”
Clue came to my side, jerking me back to the present. I looked behind me. Only Ben stood sentry. The rest of the congregation had gone. How long had I been standing there, hugging the last remains of my daughter?
“Don’t be sad, mummy. I don’t like it when you’re sad.”
“It’s time to let her go, Zelly.” Clue laid a hand on the top of mine. “We can do it together.”
A low moan rose in my throat, but I allowed Clue to unlatch my arms and share the weight of the urn. I wanted to stop her. I wanted to curl up on the ground and petrify like a fossil curled around Clara’s ashes, but Clue didn’t give me a choice.
Her eyes met mine, spilling with tears. “She’ll be happier with the horses, Zel. Don’t make her stay in such a small, dark place.” She sniffed as a fresh wave of tears trickled down her beautiful face. “It’s time.”
It took everything I had not to break down and unravel. To tear the jar from her and leap onto a horse’s back and gallop far away. Run from this reality. Pretend it wasn’t true.
Placing one hand on the bottom of the jar and the other cradling the top, I waited for Clue to do the same. She leaned in and kissed my cheek before nodding.
My heart stopped beating as together we tipped the urn upside down.
A grey cloud fell like icing sugar, and my heart went from dead to thudding like crazy. A gust of wind captured the fine dust, whipping it upward in a delicate dance. I bit my lip as Clara embraced the wind and soared toward the horses. The breeze swooped between the legs of a palomino before spiralling upward in a mini tornado and scattering in all directions.
Clue sucked in a shaky breath, and we squeezed each other, both feeling awed rather than sad. Awed because for one tiny second, I swore I heard Clara’s laugh.
“You’re too precious for this world. You’ll be called back to somewhere far better than here.”
My heart squeezed with never ending love for a soul I would see again when it was my turn to join her.
“She’ll be happy here,” Clue said.
I turned my face toward the sun, letting the warmth thaw my chilled and grief-stricken heart. A horse nickered. And I found a small smidgen of peace.
For the first time since she died in my arms, I stopped being crushed by pain. I could breathe a little easier. Handle life a little better knowing that her body might’ve left but her goodness and rightness and perfect little innocence would be with me always. “I know she will.”
I didn’t know how long we stood there, but eventually the sun returned to hide behind the clouds and the chill of the breeze bit through my black dress.
Together, Clue and I turned to go back to the car.
Ben enveloped us in a hug when we reached him. His masculine smell of Old Spice hurt my heart thinking of another man. A man who hadn’t shown up to say goodbye.
How could he? I’d nursed hope that he’d show. That he would put aside his wrongness and issues and come to honour Clara’s life.
He was never normal and I fell in love with a fraud.
Ben kissed my cheek, whispering, “He’s here. Been here the entire time.”
I froze, looking into his dark eyes. My body sparked, throbbing with energy after a week of dullness. “Where?”
He conspicuously cocked his head to the small hill to the right. Sure enough, a black splodge broke the perfection of green sweeping grass.
My hands balled and I wanted nothing more than to run up the hill and punch him. I wanted him to feel the pain I did. The knife clipped in my hair could find another home lodged in his lifeless heart.