What the Heart Wants

Filing in the Blanks...11

What happened when I left?

It was a simple question, one they both had. It didn’t really matter who answered first, the revelations would complete the tapestry of their past and begin to weave mutual cords into a combined future.

Sasha

“I couldn’t go home. You know my dad is a preacher. I couldn’t stay at school. I was sure one of your friends would see my growing mid section and rat me out. So I was broke, pregnant…” she paused.

“Alone, but honestly I think that was best for what I had to do.”

“I couldn’t keep the baby. I was afraid of it, what it would mean or do to my life. How it would tie me to you forever. And I knew for certain that you didn’t want that with me.”

“You chose England.” She paused, “And I had to accept that.” She finished a little too bluntly for his taste. Clint blinked uncertainly, trying to accept her perspective; It just didn't sit right with him, that wasn't at all what had happened.

“I didn’t learn until much later that she’d died. I’m sorry. That must have been incredibly difficult for you.”

She reached out to touch his forearm. The contact caused him to raise his eyes to meet hers. Unshed tears lay awash in her gaze, his eyes glowed like natural spring pools.

“Sasha, I…” he stopped, unsure of how to say what must come next. “I’m not sorry. I had to choose England.” He simply stated.

Sasha shook her head in agreement, unsure of why. Reluctant to let him finish, she continued... she might never get this all out if he stopped her now.

“She was pregnant Sasha, and she was sick. I had to choose her, she’d been my first love, and we never ended it, like we should have.” He toned out flatly.

“She was no more in love with me than I was with her by the time the choice was made. But we both agreed that we owed the baby the best chance… it wasn’t the babies fault.” He explained.

Fresh realization dawned on Sasha at the cluster f**k his life had been at that time… kind of the shape of hers now. She sat unspeaking, fighting to accept new information she'd never even considered.

“She knew about you. I told her. She was sorry for the choice I made. She told me before she died… that, that…” he choked on his emotions.

Sasha increased her grip on his arm, silently giving him permission to stop. She really didn’t need to see the depth of his loss. His pain, she couldn’t stand his pain.

Shaking his head in denial, he continued, “She wanted me to come back to you, to beg you to raise our baby.” He finished looking fully into her eyes for comprehension.

“Baby.” She echoed hoarsely. “She had the baby,” she grinned in relief, expelling a sigh of contentment.

Heartened by her reaction, “ Her name is London, she’s 14. She lives with England’s parents… for now.” He concluded, acknowledging, for the first time himself, the changing situation with finality.

Her arms moved of their own volition, touching him in multiple places… comforting, excited.

“You have a daughter, “ she grinned. “Tell me about her.”

“Later. I would like to know more about the children I don’t know.” He said as calmly as he could.

“Three, right?,” he swallowed. “Are they healthy?”

“Yes, three.” She conceded, all the joy seeming to drain from her prior excitement. He shook his head in disbelief. Amazed that this scant bit of woman could carry and deliver three babies, alone. Broke. Alone. He was the biggest JackAss in history, he berated himself.

“Clint, I….” she started, he covered her lips with his fingers, effectively shushing her while negatively shaking his head.

“Tell me what you remember. What you know. Anything.” He paused reassuringly, “We will get to the now…”

“They were beautiful. Small but perfect.” She choked out. Surprised at the amount of emotion aroused, finally being able to share this personal experience with someone.

“And strong. So strong.” She smiled through her tears.

“Two boys and a girl, “ she practically moaned, collapsing into tears.

He held her close and tight, trying to absorb the pain and loneliness she must have felt, the helplessness. The emptiness she must have endured all these 15 long years. Clint was content to simply cradle her for as long as she would allow, hoping some of the broken bits might begin to heal. If not heal, cauterize at least so the bleeding could stop.

From her place against his chest, he heard her continue to speak in a much stronger voice than he expected. “I named them Caden, Cayly, and Cane.”

She sniffed then continued, “I chose their parents, all of them… then I got a job as a CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocate) so that I could stay near them.” She finished raising her head to look into his eyes.

“You, you know them?” he asked incredulously, his eyes growing large and round.

“I do.” She confessed.

“And the parents know who I am.” She tilted her head, searching for judgment, anger, ridicule… finding none but awe, she continued.

“Would you like to meet them?” she asked tentatively, still gauging his reactions carefully.

There were no words, Clint could find no words. Strange joy bubbled up from his chest at the prospect of meeting three… the three children of the queen of his soul.

Clint

Would they look like her? She said they were strong? How could they be anything else?

Try as he might, he couldn’t even find the envy or jealousy he should feel knowing that she’d stayed close to them, been allowed to watch them grow… that she knew them, intimately.

That the kids parents would allow her access.

How on earth was this going to work? He mused to himself, gently releasing Sasha to answer his door from the very sudden, yet incessant ringing of the bell.

You’ve been served.

England's parents were seeking sole custody of London. Why after all this time?

What had changed?

This just didn’t make any sense. And they thought they would win on the grounds of abandonment? He’d never done such a thing. While he had been painfully absent in the beginning, through no direct fault of his own… his contact and visits with her were near constant for the last 12 years.

He had seen London on every possible occasion, while trying not to unnecessarily disrupt her life. She was established in the same community where her mother was reared, by the same ones who’d reared her mother. She had friends, she was top in her class. She was known by all, she had a community looking after her, wishing her well, supporting her.

By the time he was stable and established, he’d had no right to rip her away from the fragile stability they’d been lucky enough to cultivate.

But what had changed, now they wanted to bar him from her life. As if he hadn’t sacrificed enough to give her the semblance of stability she now enjoyed.

This notice… maybe it was time to start correcting all the errors of his past. No matter how painful. Maybe this was just the opportunity, open door, he needed to right the wrongs of his past.

He was going to fight this and bring London, Cayden, Cane and Cayly home where they belonged. Where they should have always been.