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“How’s my favourite sister?” I answer, going for the buttering-up type of approach.

“You’re only sister is fine. It’s her brother who she is worried about, today of all days.”

Shit! Why was she born with an IQ to rival Einstein?

“Don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout, baby sis. I’m fine.”

“Don’t pull that shit with me. We made a promise to each other a long time ago, remember? Telling each other everything goes both ways, not just when it suits you.”

Inwardly groaning to myself, I click my neck to both sides then fess up. “I’m on my way to the cemetery, Luce. I need to get a few things off my chest...” I pause for the slightest second then continue. “...It was Jessica’s idea, and for once I’m listening to it,” I finish, with not much enthusiasm in my voice.

“Do you want me to meet you there?”

“No, really I’m fine. I just need to get this done so that I can move on and live my life. A life I have waited so long to live unburdened.”

Lucy sighs. “Okay, but if you need me, you know I’m here.”

“I know,” I sigh back.

I’m about to say my goodbyes when her choked voice sounds quietly through my speakers. “I love you. I respect you. I look up to you and only want the best for you.”

Feeling that horrid thump in my chest when I know I have to rein my shit in before I cry like a kid, I take a deep breath and focus on the traffic ahead. “I love you too, Luce. Always.”

* * *

The light spring breeze whispers across my face as I walk the gravel path I have walked many times before. It’s a sombre walk full of sadness, and no matter how many times or how long I have done it, it still leaves me feeling partly empty.

With a bunch of Lillies in my hand, I stop by Mum, Dad and Lauchie’s graves first. This is the first time I have been here since becoming a father and for some reason unbeknown to me, I bear extra emotion.

I lay the Lillies down for my mother and whisper to her headstone, never really understanding why I do it. Deep down, I know I’m talking to a slab of granite.

“Mum, guess what? I have a son and he’s...he’s perfect. His name is Brayden...Brayden Lauchie Clark.”

 I look over to my little brother’s resting place, “Did you hear that Lauch? Yeah, he shares your name.”

Taking a small photograph of Brayden out of my pocket, I place it at the base of Mum’s headstone. “You can have this for now. But I promise, I’ll bring him by soon.”

I don’t want to linger too long, because I hate coming here on my own. So I stand back up and take a step closer to Dad’s place of rest. Touching the top of his headstone, I say four words that now hold so much meaning. “I get it now.”

As I’m about to move on to Gareth’s grave, I hear footsteps on the gravel path behind me. They could belong to only one of two people, and as I feel her hand slide into mine, I have no doubt who she is—warmth and a sense of fulfillment now flowing freely though me.

“You should’ve told me,” Alexis whispers into my ear as she rests her head on my shoulder.

I squeeze her hand, knowing that I should’ve confided in her.

“It’s okay, though,” she continues. “I understand you need to do certain things on your own. But I want you to know, you are never alone. I’ll wait for you over there until you’re finished, okay?”

I nod and she releases my hand before kissing me softly. She then bends down and places a new book on Lauchie’s grave. I notice its title: Tomorrow, When the War Began and smile—unbeknown to her, it was one of his favourites.

While Alexis stands patiently by an Elm tree, I say the few words to Gareth I’d planned on saying. “I let you down, Mate, and for that, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you were the one in the car with Mum, Dad and Lauchie all those years ago. I’m sorry that you were the one to hold Lauchie in your arms while his life slipped away from him. I’m sorry that you never got to live the life you deserved. And I’m sorry you died because of me.”

Sucking in a deep breath, I will the tears not to fall. I refuse to let them fall, I don’t deserve to cry. “Gareth, I’m sorry, but I’m a father now, and my son deserves a dad who knows how to accept responsibility for his own actions yet also forgive himself and move on with his life. I hope you can forgive me too.”

I wait for a minute and turn around to find Alexis push off from the tree and start walking toward me. She’s wearing a long flowing pale pink dress with a cream scarf tied around her neck. Her hair is twisted back and held together with a clip. As she closes the gap between us, a gust of wind sweeps her dress and scarf to the side, taking what breath I have along with it. She is just beyond beautiful.

“Are you ready?” she asks, holding both my hands in front of us.

I think about the simple question she just asked but interpret it in a different way. Yes, I am ready. I’m ready to live the rest of my life with the woman that I love.

͠   PART TWO ͠

Thief of my heart

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Since becoming a father I have felt many wonderful things: awe, pride, satisfaction; the ability to take on the entire world and those who are in it. Unfortunately, the wonderful joys of fatherhood seem to go hand in hand with the not so wonderful joys, such as: confusion, panic, and complete exhaustion—all at the hands of one tiny little human being.

Today, my baby boy turns one. Yes, one; as in 365 days old, those days being the best in my life. It feels as if it were only yesterday that I heard his cry, touched his face, looked into his eyes and held him, all for the first time. I just can’t believe how quickly this past year has flown by.

Since that miraculous day, I have experienced so much more of what life has to offer. I’ve experienced hearing the words ‘dad dad’ spoken in such rapid succession that no matter how many times Brayden said it, it still took me several seconds to register that he was, in fact, referring to me as his dad for the first time. I’ve experienced severe sleep deprivation, sex deprivation, and that scarcity of pure silence. I also now know what it feels like to freak the fuck out, and I mean really freak out.

When Brayden was ten months old, he somehow managed to get a pea stuck up his nose while he was eating his dinner. And do you think for the life of me that I was able to get it out...not a chance in hell.

I remember trying to dislodge it with my fingernail, which was inevitably a failure due to his nostril being too bloody small and my finger resembling one that belonged to a giant. So there I was, completely stressed out, panicked, and with my phone in my hand ready to dial 000 when in walked Alexis; calm and composed.

‘What’s wrong?’ she’d asked, obviously sensing from the petrified look on my face that something was clearly out of the ordinary.

Not wanting to waste any more precious time, I’d explained...‘Bray has a pea stuck up his nose. I’m calling an ambulance.’

She’d then rolled her eyes, took one look at Brayden and, I shit you not, smiled at him. I had started to voice my concern that perhaps it was not the time for smiling, when she gently pinched his other nostril and blew in his mouth, sending the pea flying out onto the bench top. Alexis then scooped it up, placed it in my hand and picked up Brayden, walking off with him jiggling on her hip and saying ‘silly dadda’. Let’s just say I stood there for God knows how long, looking incredulously at the pea that was now in my hand.

Another freak-out moment was only the other day when I was cooking dinner. Brayden was playing by my feet banging on the pots and pans I had given him together with a wooden spoon. One minute he was there and the next he wasn’t. I swear the kid has a hidden turbo button which allows him to crawl at high speeds when you turn your head for the smallest of seconds. Needless to say, I found him moments later in the walk-in pantry playing with the potatoes.