Fishing For A Dream [Book Three]

Epilogue - Old Italian Love Song

AN: I can't believe I've had to add this in, but I feel I need to after the past day where, out of 3 books, this is the chapter people decide to pick apart minute details without comment on anything else.  This is fanfiction, it's really not that deep (I've been threatened and been called names over this - legitimately), but I have done my research and everything I've written goes in line with the advice on the NHS website and with things I've read in other articles and on mother and baby forums.

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I woke from my nap feeling confused and discombobulated but also feeling so much better than I had earlier. Sitting up, I was hit with guilt for having ruined Harry's lovely birthday picnic for me, embarrassed that I'd broken down. Everything had gotten too much, and the anxiety over leaving Rhiannon had been the last straw.

Contemplating taking a shower to help further shed the dark, heavy, weight I'd had hanging over me all morning and afternoon, I noticed my phone light up as Will's face appeared on the screen. I almost didn't answer, but after all the years we'd been married and he'd ignored my birthday, I still got enjoyment out of his attempts to make up for being a prick.

"Hey, you," I said, answering the call before waiting for him to finish singing 'Happy Birthday' to me. "Thank you, thank you. Delightful as ever!"

"You're welcome! I've been taking singing lessons with Harry," Will joked. "So, how's your day been?"

"It's been..." I sought out the words to lie, but couldn't. "It's not been great."

Explaining about what had happened with Bianca, and then about the picnic and me bawling my eyes out, misery threatened to make a return. I wished I had lied, but it seemed appropriate that of all the people to have called when I'd been inconsolable about my sister, was the person who'd soothed me for years after nightmares I had about her and my mother. It was the one thing I couldn't fault Will for during our marriage: he'd always taken care of me as I struggled to grasp for reality. He'd make me a mug of hot chocolate, and sit up with me until I was better enough to go back to sleep.

"Oh shit, Lil, I'm so sorry. I don't blame you for being upset," Will sighed, sympathetically, before adding, "And I doubt Harry blames you, either. I genuinely am sorry, and it's really unfair."

"Life's unfair, right?" I laughed, weakly, reassured that others thought Bianca's decision was unfair. "My life's pretty wonderful right now, so I had to take a hit somewhere, I guess."

"You don't have to do that, you don't have to pretend you're okay with it. Not with me, not with Rose or Dee, and certainly not with Harry."

"I have to, Will. I have to." Biting back a sob as it rose in my chest, I exhaled it out and wiped away a fresh wave of tears. "If I confront how I actually feel - if I really, really think about it - I'd struggle to come back from the pain. I'm not bottling it up, but I'm protecting myself by not looking directly at it."