Page 35 of The Widower
When we got there, there was no sign of Colin.
That was unusual, considering how lately he’d been keeping an eye on when I arrived—as if he were desperate to find a reason to fire me. Or at least, that’s how it felt.
I took Hanna to the backyard, where there were a few things to keep little kids entertained. Once she was settled, I got back to my routine, knowing everything was in order—for now, at least.
CHAPTER 9
“Fearless of making mistakes, yet afraid of losing…”
COLIN ADAMS
Yesterday was one of the saddest days of my life—though once upon a time, it used to be one of the happiest.
Contradictory, isn’t it? I know…
Late last night, I lay in my daughter’s bed, her picture pressed against my chest. I’m man enough to admit I cried my damn eyes out until morning.
I’ll never accept the way I lost Maddison. It hurts so much to think about what happened that I barely have the strength to leave this room. Today would’ve been her birthday, and my heart feels shattered knowing she’s not here with me.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Daddy loves you, and he’ll never forget you.” I kissed her photo and broke down all over again.
I hated crying. God, I hated it.But I couldn’t stop myself this time. And if I could have her back, I’d promise to smile at everyone—even if they insulted me. Sounds stupid, I know, but I’d do what’s been impossible for me until now… and I wouldn’t complain once.
I glanced at the clock—past eight already. I’d spent hours in her room, and I knew I looked like hell, but I didn’t care. Some pain you carry alone, and I knew this one would follow me to the grave.
Most people can’t understand the pain of losing a child. It’s beyond explanation. It’s supposed to be the child who buries the parent—that’s hard enough. But when a parent has to bury their own child…
No, there aren’t words for that kind of pain. Watching a life so young be cut short by a mistake or a moment’s hesitation—there’s nothing that compares.
I finally left her room and went to the bathroom. I needed to wash my face. I was a wreck—spent the whole night crying.
“Pull yourself together. Breathe,” I muttered to myself, hoping it would help.
After a few minutes, I headed back toward my room, still holding her picture. I just needed to sleep.But as I turned the corner, I saw a tiny figure standing in the hallway—looking completely lost.
“Hi, mister.”
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Uh… hey.”
It took me a second to place her—I couldn’t even remember Isabelle’s daughter’s name. And seeing her there startled me, especially since one of my rules was that no one was allowed near this part of the house.
“I don’t know where I am,” she said, looking up at me. “I wanted to go to the bathroom, but I got lost. This house is really big, mister.”
I smiled.
It wasn’t her fault.The mansion is huge, and she’s so little—of course she got lost.
“It’s okay. I’ll show you where it is.”
“Okay.”
Without thinking, she slipped her hand into mine, and for a moment I froze. How long had it been since I’d held a child’s hand? I couldn’t even remember—not since my son’s…
No. Don’t go there.
I swallowed hard, wiped the last traces of tears from my face, and gently took her tiny hand, guiding her down the hall.
