Emilia
"Lyssie baby, would you like some eggs instead?" My voice is soft, trying to coax some kind of response from her, but her eyes remain downcast as she slowly shakes her head.
It's been three days since we were discharged from the hospital, and she's still a shadow of the lively little girl she used to be. Between the nightmares, her lack of appetite, and the significant change in the way she interacts with the world around her, the word worried doesn't even begin to cover what I'm feeling. After talking with the psychologist at the hospital, we thought it best to give her some time to readjust, hoping that being home, surrounded by the love and safety she's accustomed to, would be enough to bring her back. But she's still just as distant as if a part of her is locked away, somewhere even I can't reach. At times, it's like she's not even here—she'll acknowledge things, but most of the time, it's like the world around her doesn't exist.
"It's okay, baby." I squat down beside her, pulling her into a hug she doesn't return. "We'll try again later. Go on to the living room and find your sister. I think Aunt Jen put a movie on for you girls."
I watch helplessly as my once bright, spunky little girl drags herself away, leaving the kitchen without a single glance in my direction.
Collapsing into one of the chairs at the breakfast table, I bury my face in my hands. Defeat and frustration battle for space within me as I fight through the emotions that keep me in a constant state of self-pity. Aside from still being afraid, I'm heartbroken—heartbroken for the current state of our lives, for the way my girls have been forced to carry the burden of our mistakes. And as I sit here preparing to bring a third child into this world, the weight of guilt bearing down on me is all the confirmation I need to know I'm failing them. Failing all of them.
Though I don't hear him, I feel him the moment he steps into the kitchen. Lifting my head, I meet his eyes, letting him see the vulnerability I can't hide. I'm too exhausted to put up a front anymore.
His brows knit with concern as he squats down beside me, his hand resting on my back, rubbing slow, soothing circles that offer a comfort I'm desperate to sink into.
"What's going on, sweetness? Is it the baby?" His other hand moves up my leg before settling on my belly with a tenderness that makes my heart ache.
"No. We're okay." I cover his hand with mine as a lone tear slips free, silently trailing down my cheek. "I think... I think we need to get Alyssa some help."
He nods, the sadness in his eyes a reflection of my own. "Yeah, I think you're right. You and Mallory, too. Who should I call? Let's get things rolling as soon as possible." His willingness to step up to lighten the burden makes my chest swell with warmth—a small reprieve amid all the uncertainty.
"Thank you, but it's okay," I say, offering him a tired smile as I cup his face, my thumb brushing across his cheek. "I'll call the hospital psychologist. She should be able to refer us to someone who can help. Maybe we could get someone to come here to the house. A place where Alyssa feels safe, where she's the most comfortable."
As he processes what I said, he lifts my hand to his lips, brushing a gentle kiss across my fingers. "It would be best if someone could come here, but if not, we'll find a way to get her where she needs to go. We should do the same for you and Mallory. You've all been through a lot."
"Okay. I'll arrange it." As he stands, I rise with him. "I'll get lunch cleaned up and then make the call."
Before I can turn away, he pulls me back, his hand slipping into mine as he kisses me softly. It's gentle, almost chaste, but the way he lingers, letting our lips brush together, makes my heart skip a beat.
"We'll get through this, Emb. We need to hold on just a bit longer. I promise this will all be over soon." He rests his forehead against mine, and for a few precious, silent seconds, we stand there breathing each other in. "It's my turn to watch the monitors. Will you be alright if I go? If you need me, I can ask Pastor David to cover for me."
"No, it's alright. We'll be okay..." I rise on my toes, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "I promise."
He studies me for a second, his eyes scanning my face as if searching for any hint of doubt. When he steps back, letting me walk past, I take Lyssie's dish to the sink. I can feel him watching, his worry as heavy as the silence between us. He's been like this ever since we got home from the hospital—hyper-aware, noting every little thing like he's bracing himself to fix whatever might go wrong next.
"Text me if you need me. Or if you're up to it, stop by the control room."
"I got this, Luc." I lean against the kitchen island, smiling as I reassure him. "I'll come find you if I need you."
"Okay." He hesitates for a moment, clearly torn, before adding, "Oh, and James will be in shortly to grab his lunch."
"Sounds good. Let him know it's in the fridge waiting for him. "
When he still just stands there, his eyes fixed on me like he's unsure if he should leave, I can feel the weight of his worry pressing between us. Crossing the space, I wrap my arms around his waist, pulling him close, hoping it's enough to set his mind at ease. As I've learned the past few days, it's not just me and the girls who are struggling to process everything that happened. Lucas is carrying his own trauma, and the guilt and fear from those harrowing days are etched into his every move.
"I promise you, I'm okay, Luc." I press myself against him, soaking in the warmth of his body. "I appreciate everything you've done—how attentive you've been. But we're good now. As long as we're home with you, I know we'll all be okay."
His arms tighten around me. Kissing the top of my head, he inhales deeply, like he's memorizing the scent of my hair. "Since everything... walking away from you guys feels like my heart being torn out of my chest." His voice is rough, thick with emotion he can't quite contain.
"I know exactly what you mean," I say softly, pulling back just enough to look up at him. "I feel the same when the girls are out of my sight. Even when they're just in the next room, it's like I can't breathe."
"We're quite a pair, aren't we?" He gives me a sad smile, the stress of what we've been through reflected in his eyes.
"A perfect pair," I confirm with quiet certainty. "Both a little broken, but with jagged edges that fit just right—like puzzle pieces that make us whole when we're together."
His mouth curves into a genuine smile, one that reaches his eyes, and I can't help but smile back.
"I love you," he whispers, slowly leaning in, closing the distance between us.
"And I love you," I breathe, meeting him halfway, our lips connecting in a kiss that says more than words ever could.
In that moment, the world around us fades, and I know deep in my soul that together, we will heal. Together, we will come out on the other side stronger than we've ever been.
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Author's Note:
In this scene, we get a first-hand look at the emotional toll the past few days have had on the family.
I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter. Are you as pleased as I am, to see both Lucas and Emilia taking care of each other?
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