Just My Luck 2

Chapter 13

The next morning, I woke up to the sun shining bright. I am in bed alone. I get up and make my way to the kitchen. Ian and Sadie are on the phone writing things down and when Isaac sees me he brings me a cup of coffee.

"Let's go sit down." Isaac say leading me to the couch.

"What's going on?"

"We are trying to get shifts covered at the bar." Sadie says hanging up the phone.

"Okay." I say drinking my coffee.

"How did you sleep babe?"

"Okay I guess."

"Are you sore? Do you need your pain meds?" Sadie chimes in.

"No, I'm okay." I get looks from all three of them. The last time I said I was fine, well.......

"Really, it doesn't hurt much." convincing them that I'm really not in much pain.

"You'll let us know if that changes?" Sadie asked concerned.

"I will. I promise....... Has anyone um"

"It's taken care of. We have it planned for tomorrow." Isaac kneels down in front of me. Grabbing my hands.

"Are you sure you want to talk about this now?"

"I'm not sure honestly, but I have to try. For our daughter." Isaac brings me in for another hug. The rest of the morning is making sure that plans are secure and all of our shots are covered for the time being. Isaac and Ian don't put a time frame on it. Even though Isaac will still be doing the books at home, he makes sure that everything is taken care of and that Sadie and Ian come over to help out as much as they can.

"They don't have to be here all the time." I try to argue.

"The doctor said for the next few weeks you are not to be up and about. You are supposed to take an easy. Ian and Sadie will be here to help me with cleaning and such for that time. No arguments." At that I don't even try to continue. I just leave it be. Later that evening Sadie and Ian go home so we can get some rest. We decided to try and watch a movie, to which we both fall asleep too.

The next morning we wake up, and I know it's the day that we say our goodbyes to Emily Rose. I decided that today I was not going to wear black. I was going to wear a soft purple, knee-length dress. I refuse to make this a sad day. I am going to make it a day about how much she was loved and adored even though we didn't get the chance to meet her.

"Are you ready to go?" Isaac says coming into the bedroom.

"No, but I know we have to. For Emily." I say walking towards the door wrapping my arms around Isaac.

"We're going to be okay Sam, we're going to make it through this." I nod my head. But I feel like he is saying it more for himself than for me. But that's okay. Sadie told me how he broke down in the living room with Ian. It broke my heart that I couldn't be strong for him in that moment. We both walk out the door and head to the cemetery. They decided against doing it at the funeral home and then going to the cemetery. They figured just do it all in one place. And I'm okay with that. It was a beautiful service. The urn was so small. It was a short service. I was okay with that as well. We said goodbye to our friends and family who showed up and made our way back home. Not saying much.

I don't think I could have survived the last month without everyone there to support me. Isaac and I are doing good. We haven't talked about having another baby. But it seems like he keeps hinting at it. We did decide though that I wouldn't go back to work until I was ready. And knowing I would get pity stares and have people whisper, I decided that I am still not ready. So I help manage the books with Isaac at home. He too didn't feel like he was ready to return to work just yet. He has brought up when and if I still wanted to have a wedding and I told him I did, I just have to wait until I'm ready. I'm not rushing into anything when we are still healing from what has happened.

We don't really go out much any more. It's almost like time has stood still for us. Well, for me at least. Like we are here without being here. And to be honest I'm not sure if I want to move on. Everyone is expecting me too, but how can I? I lost my daughter before I even got to know her. How does anyone move on from that? I've been told to go to therapy, or go to some group sessions with other people who have dealt with loss but I don't need that. I need to find a way to heal on my own.

"You know it's not healthy for you to keep it all in Sam."

"What?"

"Here we go again."

"What are you talking about?"

"You zone out, you check out and keep everyone in the dark."

"So because I zoned out thinking about things I am keeping everyone in the dark?"

"You need to get out of the house. You need to go talk to someone."

"No thanks."

"Sam you need too."

"No the only thing I need to do is heal and try and move forword."

"And block me out."

"I'm not blocking you out!"

"Yes you are. You have been since...."

"Go ahead, say it. Since I killed Emily."

"I wasn't going to say that."

"But it's what you were thinking!"

"No it's not! Dammit Sam, I lost her too." I don't even respond. I turned and walked to the bedroom. I know he lost her too. I know he is hurting too. But it wasn't his fault. It was mine, I can't be around him without feeling like he blames me. Hell I blame me. I go to the shelf in the closet and pull out a bottle that I had hidden. I had to hide it. Every time I tried to drink he took it away from me. I go back and lock the door and open the bottle and start drinking. I spot my journal on the dresser and scuff. It's a joke. Everyone wants me to write down my feelings. As if that's going to make me feel better. I just wish they knew how I feel. I wish they would just leave me be. Nothing is going to make this okay. Nothing is going to bring my daughter back. Although I will say, apparently, I have hidden my feelings pretty well. I've made everyone believe that I'm at least dealing with it. Alone, but dealing. Truth is I'm not dealing. I'm not okay. But I can't tell anyone. Because I am Sam, I have been through hell and back and survived. I can survive this as well. Well, that's what everyone keeps telling me,

"I'm done surviving. I'm done being strong. I'm done going through hell."

Those are the words I write in my journal. Those are the feelings I want everyone to know. I take another few huge gulps of the liquid that burns my throat, and break it against the wall. Sliding down the wall next to shattered glass. My hand lands on a piece. I pick it up.

"Sam what was that?" I ignore him as I put the glass to my wrist.

"Sam, what the hell is going on?" He bangs on the door trying to open it. I make a clean cut.

"Baby open the door." Blood starts to stain my pants.

"Sam please, open the door." More banging. My vision gets blurry. I'm coming Emily. I'll be with you soon.