Joanne Suggwell One Shots 3

The Star

It's sad. I'm sorry.

"Joseph," Rina wrapped her arms around the slender boy who had just come through the door with her own son, "I'm so glad you decided to come."

"It's er, it's what she would have wanted. It's what we discussed. How... how are you?" Joe asked, still wrapped in Rina's strong arms.

"Good, it's tough, especially now. I'm better than Mark anyway," she turned so they faced her husband who was staring into space on the couch.

"Alright Mark, how are ya?" Joe asked, holding his hand out for her father, who really did look like a lost soul.

"Joe! Glad you could make it!" It was half hearted and Joe could see the hurt in the eyes of the gentleman in front of him. He guessed his eyes didn't look much different to his own.

"So am I." Joe said, dropping his hand gently, taking a seat next to the man who had clearly aged years since she had gone.

Despite the circumstances. Despite the changes that they had undergone together, Joe noticed the house was still filled with love. Even though she was no longer there. Even though they had no obligation to even acknowledge his existence, he felt this overwhelming sense of love. The house felt just the same as before, with one major difference, she wasn't constantly tucked into his side and there wasn't her laughter to fill the silence. Just barely echoes.

He let his gaze travel, heart catching in his throat as he noticed the piece of art that had been hanging on the back wall, near the corner had changed. Instead a black and white picture he had taken of his love was hung there. He pursued his lips as he studied her face. It was slightly scrunched in laughter and perfectly portrayed how their life had been- full of love and laughter. Her hand, with its little toe thumb and all was in the process of messing her hair and she looked incredible. He was glad they had chosen this photo, this was how she should be remembered. Always.

His gaze wandered again, to the Christmas tree, decorated in full colour, just as she would have wanted. He started at the bottom and worked his way up, eyes studying each and every bauble. He was pleased to see a few of their ones, from London, still hung. A little higher up, there was another picture of her but this time his own smiling face was looking back. It was a picture her dad had taken and one he knew both of her parents treasured dearly. Strangely he didn't feel sad looking at, perhaps because he knew he would always have the memories that each picture would hold.

Because of this, Joe wasn't expecting the crashing emotion he'd feel when he finally reaches the top of the tree. It was starless. That was her job. That was the thing she would do so her parents knew she was home.

A sob ripped from Joe's lips, escaping the hand that clamped over his mouth, as he saw the star, her star, sitting on the side table waiting... though it would never go back up.

His darling Dot was gone and not even Christmas would change it.