After her husband dies in a car accident, Emma Haines-Gaunt is encouraged by her mother and sister to attend a therapy group for widows. Though reluctant to even give it a try, Emma finds herself in a church basement listening to heartbreaking stori...
"What doesn't kill you Makes you wish you were dead. Got a hole in my soul growing deeper and deeper. And I can't take one more moment of this silence. The loneliness is killing me. And the weight of the world's getting harder to hold up.
Save me from myself. Don't let me drown."
Song: Drown - Seafret (BMTH cover)
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"Emma..." She heard her mother's soft voice.
She looked up to see her standing in the doorway of her daughter's bedroom where she sat by the crib.
"What are you doing, love? It's nearly three in the morning," her mum asked, a look of concern on her face.
"I just... I missed her," Emma sniffled, wiping at her eyes as she watched Madeline sleeping in her crib.
"Why are you crying, honey?" She asked sweetly as she moved into the room toward her.
"Mum..." Emma cried, dropping her face into her hands, feeling another wave of emotion hit her.
"Oh, baby. What's the matter?" She asked, kneeling down in front of her.
"Mum, I really screwed up," Emma cried, looking up at her as she tried to stop her rapid flow of tears.
"What happened?" She asked patiently.
"Harry... I-I... I crossed the line," Emma whimpered.
"Tell me," she said, swiping Emma's hair out of her eyes.
Emma looked over at Madeline who was perfectly content in her crib, not a care in the world as she slept soundly. She didn't have the heart to confess what she needed to confess in front of her. She couldn't talk about disgracing her father's memory while she was in the same room.
"Not in here," Emma said, shaking her head as she stood up.
"Come on. I'll make you some tea," her mum offered.
Emma stopped in the bathroom to clean herself up a little while her mother went down to the kitchen. She couldn't get what she did with Harry out of her head, and she couldn't seem to get her tears to stop. Every little memory of Harry just made the tears fall harder.
Emma made her way down to the kitchen just in time to find her mother pouring boiling water into two mugs that each held a tea bag of the sleepy-time tea they both loved so much. Emma took a seat at the table waiting for her to finish.
"Here you go, baby," her mum said as she set down the mugs and a box of tissues on the tabletop.
"Thank you," she said quietly, wiping at a stray tear.
"Please, baby. Please tell me what's got you in such a tizzy," she said, sitting down across from Emma at the breakfast table.
"I slept... I slept with him. I slept with Harry. And... and now... now Patrick... now it's not Patrick... I-I... I feel like... I feel..." Emma blubbered almost incoherently.
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