Rebuilding Forever

I looked down at the bloom in my hand, a single white rose. I didn’t know why, but it seemed like the most fitting one for Patrick.

Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I placed the rose on top of his marker and stepped back, swiping at the tears streaming down my cheeks.

I started to turn away when something stopped me. I didn’t do it before because I thought it might be silly, but I decided to go for it. I dug into my bag and produced a little cardboard bakery box.

Inside was Patrick's favorite flavor of cupcake: chocolate brownie with caramel ganache and extra sprinkles.

I sat it down next to the rose. “Here you go, one for the road.”

***

A few days after the funeral, Abigail and I were bustling out the door, running late, as usual, to get her to school, when Abigail squawked out my name in a way that made me jump out of my skin.

My heart pounded as I asked, “Abigail, what's wrong, baby?”

Abigail was pointing to our porch railing. There, right next to the finial, was one of my white bakery boxes. It was the same one I'd left on Patrick's grave marker. Abigail had drawn a picture on the outside and written a message for him.

We looked at each other with wide eyes, and then I shook my head and hurried to the railing.

Gingerly, I picked up the box. It was lightweight now—the heft of the cupcake gone.

I threw a reassuring smile over my shoulder at Abigail and opened the box. Only a couple of chocolate stains on the edges of the box remained, along with a note folded neatly in its place.

I plucked the piece of paper out and unfolded it with shaky hands. It read in a familiar handwriting, “Thank you for the cupcake. That flavor is a winner; don't forget it. I love you always.”

“Mommy? You're crying. What does it say?”

I quickly swept away the tears and assured Abigail they were happy tears. I read the note to her, and she looked up at me, confused as I rushed to explain, “I think Patrick wanted you to know he loves you, and he's watching over you.”

I wasn't sure if that was the right thing to say. I often felt that way as a parent, but I was rewarded with Abigail's serene smile, and her steps seemed to pick up a little as we walked to the car. She had a million questions about where Patrick was and what he must be doing, and I tried to answer them as best as I could. But when I kissed her goodbye for the day, my mind immediately went back to the familiar handwriting on the note.

I'd seen that handwriting on a hundred notes, all proclaiming their love.

I shook my head. I doubted Patrick had kept it a secret he was close to my daughter and me. And I was sure, from the drawings on the sides of the box, Liam understood somebody would be missing his dad almost as much as he did.

It was such a Liam move. His dad would have been proud—reaching out to console a little girl he didn't know.

And even though I knew that was all it could be, I couldn't help but feel haunted by the words “love you always.”

Once upon a time, Liam had promised me that very thing, but it wasn’t enough to make him stay. He’d shot out of this town like a cannon the first opportunity he got, leaving me in the dust.

I bolstered my resolve with that reminder. He'd made a kind gesture to a little girl, and it was sweet, but it didn't change that he’d run away from me.

All sales are final. There are no refunds on digital products.