I’m too familiar with it.
They don’t think she will be.
“We will take her to the hospital, okay? Ride with us?” Ashe asks me as they take the gurney and begin to leave.
I pick up Haley and run out the door, following the two men that have my daughter’s life in their hands. Haley is sobbing against my chest, but I’m so fucking mad at her for some reason. I know this isn’t her fault. I don’t know what she could have done to stop it.
But drugs? What if Amber cried and Haley didn’t hear because she was passed out? I just… I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to forgive her.
We climb into the ambulance and the medics shut the doors behind us. I set Haley down and scoot away from her, watching as Ashe works on Amber and Keagan races down the road.
I’m not an idiot. I know things don’t look good. Keagan talks to someone from the hospital and tells someone we are coming in hot with a two-month-old, most likely SIDS.
Hearing that stops my ability to think, breathe, and hope. He has to be wrong. I won’t believe it when I hear it from the doctors. I place my hands over my mouth and watch in horror as Ashe works, the heartrate monitor flatlining like a bad fucking song I can’t turn off.
Haley is sobbing, loud and heart-wrenching. I reach a hand out for her, trying to push the anger aside so we can grieve together instead of alone. Her fingers intertwine with mine, but everything has changed. Everything.
When we pull up to the hospital, Ashe opens the back doors, which is when I see several cop cars with their lights on parked in a line. Emerson is up front, along with a few other cops to show their support.
Ashe wheels Amber out of the ambulance. Her body looks so small in the middle of the gurney. Emerson and the others follow us in, and it isn’t long before the entire waiting room is full of men in uniform.
“Two months old, found unresponsive in her crib, I haven’t been able to get a heartbeat,” Ashe tells the doctor as they run side by side down the hall.
The nurse stops me, her hand on my chest as I run with them. “You can’t go back there, sir. Okay? We will let you know.”
“She’s my daughter. I need to be with her,” I explain, wiping my eyes of tears so she can see I’m serious.
“I know.” Her lips frown and her eyes are sad as if the news she has to tell me is bad. How can she already know?
“Rookie,” Emerson’s voice has me turning around. His eyes are glassy and there is a rosy tint to his cheeks.
Haley is sitting down, mascara running down her face. I know I’m the asshole because I’m so mad at her, but how could she? How could she pop not one, not two, not three, but four pills?
“She’s just a baby. She’s just a baby!” I scream, gripping his uniform tight in my fists.
“And so are you, Rookie. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He brings me in for a hug. I don’t care who sees me fall apart. I’m only eighteen. I’m supposed to have the rest of my life ahead of me. I’m supposed to have the happily-ever-after with the fucking picket fence and fucking pink ribbons everywhere because Amber would love that color.
I’m supposed to have the rest of my life. I’m supposed to die first. Me.
“What do I do? Tell me what to do. I’ll do it.” I press my head against his shoulder.
“Forrest,” Haley whimpers. “I’m so sorry. I…”
“Don’t talk to me right now.” I lean away from Emerson, a guy who is like a grandpa to me. “Call our parents. They are going to want to be here.” I turn to walk away before I stop mid-step. “How long, Haley? How long with the pills?”
“Forrest. Not now, our daughter—”
“I know about our daughter. I got to her first!” I shout, slamming my palm against my chest. “I asked how fucking long!”
“Before she was born!’
It’s like she slapped me across the face as I rear back and stare at a woman I barely know.
“Don’t walk away. Forrest, talk to me. Please.” She grabs my hand and I pull it away from her, shaking my head. I have so much I want to say but it will all be out of anger.
Emerson follows me as I sit down across the room. “We can arrest her, you know. Get her blood checked and she can be charged with child endangerment, neglect, and substance abuse.”
The thought has my head spinning. “I don’t know. She’s going through this too, Emerson. Maybe the pain is enough.”
“Maybe…” But he doesn’t sound too convinced.
I’m not sure how long we sit there. Minutes. Hours. All I know is that I feel like I had everything this morning and now I have nothing.
“Walker family?” A tired doctor in a white coat comes out of the double doors and I get up, running to him at the same time Haley does. The cops are behind us, giving us enough space for privacy but close enough to hear the diagnosis.
“Your daughter—”
“—Amber,” I tell him. “Her name is Amber. Is she okay? What happened?”
“I’m sorry to tell you this, but Amber passed away. My official cause of death is SIDS. We don’t have a lot of reasons for why it happens, but I’m sorry for your loss, Officer Walker.”
Haley screams and her knees buckle. I catch her in my arms and hold her tight, closing my eyes as my world ends all around me.
I can’t feel anything.
I remember my first hello to Amber the first time I saw her.
And now I’m saying my last goodbye.
That’s the bitch about loving someone.
Like a water-sealed vault, I throw my love and pain and memories into it and lock it up. I switch gears.
Why are children so weak?
In a matter of seconds, my love turns to hate.
It’s harsh, but it’s true. Amber will be the only child I’ll ever have. I swear it. No child will ever be able to compare, but I’m so mad at her. I’m mad at her for being small and fragile. She was weak. I have to hate her for that. I have to because I don’t know how I’ll live. I don’t know how to survive this pain if I don’t.
She was… perfect. I was supposed to protect her, but I failed.
I’ll never have to say goodbye again, because I’ll never let myself say hello.
But I know deep down, I’ll never hate my angel.
My Amber.
Deep down, because that’s where love belongs.
Present Day
Oh my fucking god.
“Shut the hell up!” I throw the pillow over my head to try and muffle the sounds of babies crying. Multiple fucking babies. It’s all I hear these days. In the middle of the night, every night, they yell and scream at the top of their lungs. They are never happy.
Ever.
I remember a time when that was my life. But that was before the death of my daughter and my divorce.
No. I can’t think about that. All of that is locked down deep. My heart is a vault. Nothing and no one will ever be able to unlock it again. I learned my lesson the first time.
With the past pushed away, another wail comes from the other side of the wall. I grumble in annoyance and flip to my stomach, nearly smothering myself with the pillow.
“Oh, I know sweetie. I know.” A sweet, soft, radio-sultry voice comes from that side of the wall too, a voice that has parts of me coming alive in ways I thought were forgotten. I can’t even think about going there.