HARPER
He folds into her like a wilting flower, Jude protected between their chests even as he lets his shoulders bough beneath the weight of all he has been carrying. The tears are silent, choking any further words down into his stomach where they roll restless and acidic, shame bitter and caustic between. Jude is only a few months old and already he is failing. But he trusts Maeve implicitly, enough to follow her like a lost lamb as she leads him to the couch and gently unwraps the sling that he wears like a second skin.
Without Jude’s weight and warmth he feels untethered, lost, but Maeve’s soft voice calls out into the void and pulls him back down before he can drift too far. He’s grateful beyond measure when she rises to sit beside him instead, moving himself closer so their thighs press together and he can bury his face in her shoulder, arms limp between his knees. His breaths shudder pitifully against her skin, the wetness on his cheeks transferring to her blouse.
She makes it sound so easy. So simple. A fix he couldn’t have known without asking, but which feels like a bandaid trying to cover a crater. “I don’t know how to do this without her,” Harper croaks into Maeve’s shoulder. “I don’t understand. Why did she have to leave? Not me but…but him.” Because Harper has borne greater injustices and wounds from those he loves. He would have accepted the agony of her leaving him. But Jude? He can’t make it make sense, and the constant fear that she’s in danger, or gone forever, is a waking nightmare he can’t shake. “Everyone says I’m doing fine, but I don’t think I am. I don’t know how to be everything he needs.” Not just a father, but a mother too now.
Without Jude’s weight and warmth he feels untethered, lost, but Maeve’s soft voice calls out into the void and pulls him back down before he can drift too far. He’s grateful beyond measure when she rises to sit beside him instead, moving himself closer so their thighs press together and he can bury his face in her shoulder, arms limp between his knees. His breaths shudder pitifully against her skin, the wetness on his cheeks transferring to her blouse.
She makes it sound so easy. So simple. A fix he couldn’t have known without asking, but which feels like a bandaid trying to cover a crater. “I don’t know how to do this without her,” Harper croaks into Maeve’s shoulder. “I don’t understand. Why did she have to leave? Not me but…but him.” Because Harper has borne greater injustices and wounds from those he loves. He would have accepted the agony of her leaving him. But Jude? He can’t make it make sense, and the constant fear that she’s in danger, or gone forever, is a waking nightmare he can’t shake. “Everyone says I’m doing fine, but I don’t think I am. I don’t know how to be everything he needs.” Not just a father, but a mother too now.
lord don't let me break this, let me hold you lightly
give me arms to pray with instead of ones that hold too tightly
give me arms to pray with instead of ones that hold too tightly
