The Hole She Left in My Heart

Almost silently, I made my way up the stairs, so quietly, that you could probably hear a pin drop - even with the noise I was making with my feet. 

I’d just put Michael's baby - wait, no - our baby, to sleep. She had been the cutest little angel when I had rocked her in my arms, eyes shut, her expression peaceful and soft. I wish she was always that calm, but I think that’s probably too much to ask from a baby. 

When I make it to the second story, I take a left towards Lilabeth’s room and knock softly on her door. 

“Lila?” I whisper, my voice nearly inaudible, “Honey, are you sleeping?”

No response. 

“Lila?” I try again.

I wait another second and start walking the other direction just in time to hear a light voice respond, 

“I’m getting ready to sleep, Kiera.” she says laconically. 

“Oh, alright.” I reply, “That’s good, dear. Have a good night then.”

I can’t say I’m surprised when I don’t get a good night back, but I guess everything takes time and adjustment- a lot of time and adjustment. 

Turning away from Kiera’s room, I make my way back down the hallway and to my own bedroom. 

At the night desk, I see Michael on his laptop, typing away on the keyboard in front of him. When he sees me, he gives me a sweet smile, and I feel my heart melt all over again, the exact same way it did when I first met him. 

He gets up from his chair- pushing it back behind him-and strides over to me; He puts his arms around my waist and plants a warm, passionate kiss on my lips as I feel all my worries wash away. Stroking my hair, he plants another kiss on my cheek, 

“How was your day, Kiera?” he asks, his bright green eyes almost staring into my soul. 

I shrug, “I mean being fresh out of college isn’t always the easiest. The event management company that hired me is pretty decent. I got booked for a ten year old’s birthday party today, so I guess that’s something.”

Michael grins, “That’s wonderful, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks.” I say as I pull away from him to slip off the robe I’d put on after showering. “When’d you get home?” I ask him. 

Michael rubs both sides of his temples. “Maybe 20 minutes ago. The company was a mess today. There were so many things that needed to be handled.” he looks at me apologetically, “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get home earlier and help with the kids.”

I shake my head, “I understand. You’re busy.” I slide onto the large king size bed and feel the soft memory foam mattress depress under my weight. 

“I didn’t even give you a proper honeymoon after our wedding.” He comes into the bed with me, and I rest my head on his shoulder, leaning into him as he wraps his arm around me. “I’m so sorry, Kiera. I know I’m probably not the husband you imagined you’d have.”

I nuzzle my nose into his chest, “It’s ok, Michael. You weren’t even quite done mourning when I came into the picture. I know Lilabeth definitely wasn’t. I made the decision to give myself to you and that’s not your fault at all.” 

Michael kisses the top of my head, “I know you’re fifteen years younger than me, but the way you talk and understand certain things makes me feel like you’re way beyond your years.”

I smile, “I just want to be a good wife to you and a good mother for Lilabeth and Lillian. I know I’ll never be able to replace their real mother, or the space she took in your hearts but….”

Michael hushes me with a kiss just as warm and sweet as the first, “You’re more than enough as you are. You don’t need to replace anyone. Their mother has passed. She will always be remembered, but that does not change the fact that you, my Kiera, are my wife now, as well as the mother of my children for as long as you wish.” 

His words touch my heart like a warm honey, and I lean into him more. 

“Thanks Michael. I love you.”

He pulls me closer to him, “I love you more.”

***

I sigh as I hear Kiera’s soft footsteps walk away from the door of my bedroom.  

Pulling open the drawer of my night stand, I rummage through the clutter of items I’d stuffed in there over the past few months. Finally, my hand landing on a smooth frame, I pull out the picture that I’d been looking for. 

Encased in a bright golden picture frame, there’s a photo of my mother and I standing in front of a small pond across from our house. In the picture, we both have big goofy smiles plastered on our faces; It looked as if we didn’t have a care in the world; We seemed completely happy-but we weren’t. 

One month before Dad had snapped this photo of us, Mom had been diagnosed with Breast Cancer, stage 3. There were only 4 stages. 

One month after this photo, I remember holding Mom’s small, fragile hand as I cried and cried for hours on end beside her cold hospital bed. I remember Dad, finally having to scoop me up in his arms to get me to leave Mom’s side as they covered her face with a sheet of white cloth. 

One week after that, I remember sitting in a cold hard chair, dressed in a black dress that tugged uncomfortably at my waist, at least a size too small. Dad had picked it out-obviously-Mom would have never made such a mistake. My eyes had been dry from all my previous tears, and the day of Mom’s funeral, I don’t think I shed a tear.

I slam the photo frame onto the ground. 

One year after that, Dad found a replacement for Mom and got married-without hesitation. 

How could he do that to me? To us? How could he just find someone else to take Mom’s place, the place she left unoccupied? The place she left empty.

As I think about this, I crawl under my bed sheets and cover my face with the pillow next to me. 

Honestly, Keira wasn’t bad. She really wasn’t; I could tell she was trying. She was trying to make me feel comfortable. She was trying to help me adjust. She was trying to fill that empty space that Mom left in Dad and I’s hearts.

I don’t know about Dad, but I knew that for me, she would never be able to fill that empty space Mom left when she died. Never.