"I will always be here for you, never forget that."

Disclaimer: This story mentions, a brief mention of addiction, as well as one use of foul language.

“I will always be here for you, never forget that.” The first time George uttered those words it had been in the early hours of the morning when the rest of the northern hemisphere aside the night shift workers and insomniacs were oblivious to the world around them, peacefully sleeping. George and Hannah, were tucked up in bed, wrapped up in her yellow polka dot duvet, basking in the dim glow of fairy lights, which felt like a hug in itself. There was a smell of lavender floating around from the candle burning on the dresser, lulling them into hazy dreamlike state. Their noses were touching their arms wrapped around each other, knees bumping, his feet sending heat to hers, which were always cold. If anyone had entered the room they wouldn’t have been able to hear their voices which were comparable to the sound of a leaf drifting to the ground. They were engaging in those deep conversations that always happen in the middle of the night. Perhaps feeling that at night they could be their true and honest selves, in the purest of forms rather than putting on a facade in the harsh, brutal, unapologising light of the day. The atmosphere hadn’t always been like this, serene and calm, in fact only a couple of hours prior there had been raised voices and tears. George had felt that every time he tried to get closer to Hannah, more intimate with her in ways that didn’t include sex she pushed him away. She had denied this, but he had been thinking of this for some time, and he had come prepared with examples. Hannah had screamed at him feeling judged asking “why are you doing this?” He calmly explained his reasoning. Unable to argue with his case she had resorted to what she knew best, distraction.

Keeping herself occupied  was Hannahs superpower, avoid, avert, redirect. She used it on herself all the time, avoiding any unpleasantness in anyway she could. In her eyes it wasn’t a negative, as over the years she had mastered many pursuits. In University she was top of her class. Classical books? She had Read them all, re-read them and analysed them as if she was studying literature. Music? She knew the theory, what sounded wonderful and what didn’t and why that was. An avid writer, an accomplished artist. One thing Hannah never did was sit still, because sitting still lead to thinking and in her mind that was never a good thing. She knew that all of these things provided an escape from everything and that was what she needed. She stepped to George now, her eyes searching his, she knew what she had to do. George said nothing as she kissed him with a sense of urgency, before leading him upstairs. He knew what she was doing, but let himself succumb to it, this was better than her shouting at him. 

After, he had bought it up again. “Please George.” She had begged. “No Hannah, I want you to let me in, why won’t you?” Hannah was silent, and had his hand not been cupping her face, his thumb stroking her cheek, he wouldn’t have realised she was crying, tears falling and landing on his hand. He knew not to push. This is what had lead to them talking late into the night, him listening, not interrupting in fear that if he did she would back track. She had explained that everyone in her life who held any value left. Her father had walked out when she was a toddler, sending her mother into a pit of depression and alcoholism. Her older brother went off the rails, leaving home when he was thirteen. Being ten years old she didn’t have the means to follow him. Her mum was dealing with her own battles and either didn’t care or notice that her son had upped and left. Years later, when Hannah had told her mum she was going to University to study Law her mother offered no words of encouragement, but instead a “good riddance.” She hadn’t heard from her since. Hannah believed it was better to be alone, to not let people get close, that way, when they inevitably left it wouldn’t hurt. 

When she had finished speaking, George kissed her tenderly on her lips before whispering “I will always be here for you, never forget that.” She had laughed in his face, breaking the tranquil atmosphere of the room, replying “don't say things you don't mean.” “No, Hannah I am serious, I will always be here for you, never forget that.” This time she had sighed “Okay if you say so.” She hadn’t believed him, not for a second. 

As the months and years crept by she slowly learnt to trust him. The anxiety that he might one day disappear lessened. In return, whenever he caught her looking distracted, her mind in a place she didn’t want to be, or on her families birthdays he caught her wondering if either of them were dead or alive he appeared at her side smoothing her hair, bringing her into his chest whispering the words “I will always be here for you, never forget that.” 

When they had got married it had been a small affair, Mostly it was Georges family and a couple of Hannahs friends. They had decided to write their own vows. Hannah, usually able to write eloquently, perfectly able to articulate any mood, any genre had been at a loss for words, scrawling for hours, scribbling, editing, screwing up paper before throwing it across the living room. Eventually, she wrote something she was happy with and delivered it to him and their modest audience. Georges vows were somewhat shorter, holding her hands he spoke the words “I will always be here for you, never forget that.” To the onlookers this seemed a sweet and appropriate sentiment, to Hannah, it meant everything. 

5 years later, she was holding his hand in a hospital bed. George had been involved in a car accident at the result of a drunken driver who had slammed into him at a cross roads. He had been rushed into hospital, taken immediately into surgery. Hannah had got there as quick as she could. She had been travelling back to London from Edinburgh where she had been away on business. The calls kept coming through, but due to be the number being unrecognised she had ignored the incessant ringing deciding it was a cold caller with nothing better to do. It was only when Georges name flashed up on her phone she answered. It wasn’t his voice on the end of the phone, but instead a Nurse who explained what had happened asking her to come to the hospital as quick as she could. There was nothing Hannah could do, she couldn’t speed the train up, which was merrily coasting somewhere between Newcastle and Durham without any particular speed.

She had been too late. 5 minuets to be exact, but still five minuets of time she could have had with George. A Nurse, who she now knew to be called Katie assured her he wouldn’t have known. “He was in surgery when it happened”, something to do with a blood clot, Hannah wasn’t really listening, too focused on the painful thought, he was probably scared, surrounded by strangers, without any real knowledge of what was going on, as well as not being able to say a final “goodbye.” Rationally, she knew it wasn’t her fault, but when someone who means so much to a person longer exists, any logical thought quickly vanishes. Georges mother and father had arrived an hour later, she held herself together for their sake.

She left the room, which was grimly lit, cold and uninviting, Nurse Katie took Hannah to one side, passing her a cup of tea and some Bourbon biscuits. Hannah had broken down at the sight of the biscuits, these were Georges favourite and Hannah was now recalling their kitchen cupboards with a steady stream of them, just to keep Georges Bourbon appetite satisfied, how when they ordered their Tesco delivery each week, Bourbons were always the first thing George added, 3 packs of them at least. She clutched the biscuits remembering this smiling through the tears. This was all she had of George now, mere memories, somehow it didn’t seem enough, nowhere near enough. The saying “memories last forever.” popped into her mind, but she decided this was bullshit, memories are nothing, it wasn’t as if she could curl up on the sofa and laugh with him and share them with him. Such moments were frivolous when all you wanted was to hold that person, to kiss them to say “I love you” one last time.

She had initially refused the tea supplied by Nurse Katie, but gave in when she told her that it had sugar in it and that helped with shock. At this point, Hannah was willing to try anything to ease the tortuous pain that was growing more and more intense by the second. No one prepares you for the way you feel when a person you love dies. Nurse Katie sat with Hannah for a long time, she didn’t say anything just held her hand as she sobbed, whispering over and over. “you said you’d always be here and now you have gone.” Everything inside her willed this to be a horrific nightmare, and that soon she would wake up and George would be lay next to her snoring, mouth open, like always. 

Georges parents moved in with Hannah for a few weeks, helping her sort through Georges belongings, assisting with the cancellation of contracts “and why are you wanting to cancel?” unapologetic phone advisors probed “my husband has passed away.” Hannah would reply. “Oh sorry to hear that. Yes we can cancel that for you” The voice retorted. They probably never thought of the exchange again. Meanwhile, no matter how many times Hannah said it, it didn’t get easier, in fact it made it worse, the more she said it the more real it became, each time she repeated the words “he has passed away.” It cemented what she knew, he wasn’t coming back. 

As the months passed, Hannah tied to piece her life back together as best she could. She went back to her old coping mechanisms of distracting herself, but nothing seemed to work, baking was meaningless with no one to share her latest edible creation with. She couldn’t find the right words to write and even the most gripping of thrillers, or out of this world sci-fi novels didn’t provide their usual route of escape. 

One day as she waited for the kettle to boil, she stood looking at the calendar. Peering a little closer, she saw the almost invisible red dot in the corner of todays date. No it couldn’t be could it? She frantically looked back, trying to remember if in the midst of everything else she had just forgotten that her period had come and gone. That wasn’t like her though, Hannahs cycle had always been the textbook twenty eight days, with every accompanying symptom that you describe to a terrified twelve year old when broaching the topic of a monthly cycle. She tried to calm herself, stress did funny things to people, she didn’t need to be a genius to know this, there was a plethora of evidence to show stress could delay a cycle, but three, really? 

Disregarding her need for coffee, she picked up her keys and drove into the local town stopping at the local connivence store. She was thankful the shop owner who usually liked a chat wasn’t working today, she was in no mood for conversation. She stood in the aisle surrounded by tampons, sanitary towels and condoms trying to decide which out the pregnancy tests to choose each one claiming to be “99% accurate.” It was a minefield. In the end she picked clear blue their apparent reputation winning her over. 

At home, she hovered over the stick before leaving it to stew for the recommended three minuets. As it developed she paced around the house, biting her nails to nothing. She jumped when the timer on her phone alarmed. She didn’t need to look at the stick to know what it was going to say. She tired to compose herself unsure of how she felt. Two months before Georges accident, they had decided to start trying for a baby. Hannah had tried not to feel disheartened when her period arrived the next month, people rarely get pregnant on the first try. George had comforted her “there is always next month.” Hannah stared at the stick “12 weeks.” It said in its robotic writing, it seemed second time round worked a charm. Tears welled in Hannahs eyes at the realisation that this baby, their baby, would never know its father, a man who would have loved it with every ounce of himself, would have taught them they could do anything, would have been there for every football game, every ballet performance, on hand for homework help, no matter how long it took. 

6 months later 

Hannah, now sat in her own hospital bed, the emotions of pregnancy and having just given birth, taking their toll on her decided enough was enough, and that she needed to“get a grip.” Now she had someone else to think about other than herself. She looked to the plastic crib that looked anything, but comfortable, pausing for a second not wanting to disturb the sleeping infant. Tremulously, Hannah reached into the crib lifting the baby out being sure to support its fragile head, exactly the way the Midwife had shown her. She bought the newborn close to her “Hello little one, mummy here..” Hannah felt strange speaking to someone who couldn’t understand let alone respond, but continued regardless “Hello George, yes that’s your name, that was your daddies name too. You won’t ever get to meet him, and I am so sorry for that, but I can promise you that he would have loved you so much, he would have been incredibly excited to meet you,” she paused for a second, trying to keep her voice steady and calm as it cracked “ I know that if he been here he would have done anything for you, and that from wherever he is, in heaven maybe, if such a place exists, he will be watching us now, and that he will be so proud of you already. And my little George, as your mummy I have one promise for you, I will always be here for you, never forget that.”