“Oh baby.”

I walk over and scoop her into my arms. She doesn’t really understand death, but she knows something is wrong. I stroke her soft locks, soothing her. I sit on the bed and rock her, talking gently to her. I don’t notice that Max has entered the house, or that he’s standing in the doorway watching us until Immy says, “Mommy, there’s a man there. Is that your special friend?”

I jerk my head up and see him standing, staring down at Imogen. His eyes are intense and he looks hurt.

“Yes,” I whisper, standing and placing her down. I lead her over until we stop in front of him. “Imogen, this is my friend Max.”

Immy looks up at him, and so much emotion explodes in my chest as he watches her, his face softening with every passing second. Finally, he kneels and stares at her, and when he speaks his voice is thick with emotion. “Hey there, kiddo, how you doin’?”

She smiles shyly. “I’m okay. My nanna is sick.”

He nods. “That’s not good, is it?”

She shakes her head. “Mommy said you will let me watch Despicable Me if I stay with you while she helps Nanny.”

“I think we can work something out.”

Max looks up at me, and his eyes are glassy with emotion. I’m crying hard, so I turn and press my hand over my nose to stop the sting. I try to gather myself enough to face this, but it’s the worst time. I wanted them to meet on different terms, but I have been left with no choice.

“I’ll take care of her,” Max says, his voice close.

I turn and he’s come up so close I can see his chest. I take a step back and look up at him. “I believe that.”

He leans down close, bringing his lips close to my ear. “She’s fucking perfect. That’s all on you.”

My tears come harder again and I turn away, not able to cope right now. I squat in front of Immy. “I want you to be a good girl for Max, okay? I’ll bring you your favorite cupcake on my way home, but only if you’re the best, best girl you can be.”

“I will be, Mommy,” she cries happily. Nothing worries her. Oh, to be four again.

I turn to Max. “Are you going to stay here or are you going to take her somewhere?”

“Rather take her to my place. It’s on the way to the hospital, but you already know that.”

I do, because I used to live there.

“Okay.”

I gather up as many of her things as I can, listening while she chews Max’s ear off. I glance at them every now and then, and the emotion exploding from his face breaks my heart. He’s looking at her as if she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. As if he just can’t get enough. He smiles at her, a true Max smile, with dimples and warmth.

It’s then I see the man I married in him. Right there, with that expression . . . he’s exactly what I remember.

My heart warms.

“Come on,” I say, waving to them.

Immy takes Max’s hand and I see the fear flash across his eyes, but after a few seconds he lets her drag him along. As he passes me, he looks into my eyes, and I can see the pain there, the pain I left behind. I don’t have time to talk to him about it right now, but I will.

I will tell him how wrong I was.

Most of all, I’ll tell him just how much I love him.

Still.

Four words.

Four, horrible, heart-wrenching words.

I’m sorry she’s gone.

They are saying it to me, but I’m numb. I’m just staring at them. They can’t be right; the doctors said she had a few months more. They said she was progressing well. I don’t understand. There must be a mistake, there has to be. Maybe they’ve got the wrong person. She was just sick. A cold. It wasn’t the end. I didn’t...it couldn’t...no.

“Miss?”

I blink, completely numb and stare at the doctor. “No, y-y-y-you said she had more time and . . .”

“She had a virus, and it appeared her body just couldn’t cope any more. The cancer had spread further. She was severely dehydrated and she passed. I’m very sorry.”

Dehydrated? No. Oh God. I should have called the ambulance quicker, I shouldn’t have let her talk me out of it. What the hell was I thinking?

“But . . . I didn’t get to say goodbye,” I say, my voice shaky.

“I’m so very sorry. Is there anyone I can call?”

I shake my head, numbly. I have to call my sister. I have to pull myself together and let my family know.

I walk down the hall until I find a waiting area, and I sit down, my body burning with unshed pain. I want to scream, and cry hysterically, and just sit there and be angry. I didn’t get to say goodbye to her. I didn’t get to tell her I love her. I wasn’t by her side. If I had forced her to go to the hospital sooner . . . maybe she would have made it.

With shaky fingers, I pull out my phone and call Tina. She’s away with her husband—she shouldn’t get this news now, but there’s no other option. I have to tell her.

It’s the worst phone call of my life.

She cries a lot, and her husband gets on the phone and tells me he’ll take care of her, and they’ll get the next flight home. Until then I have to live with this. I just can’t process that she’s not here. Everything inside my body feels numb, and alien, like it just doesn’t belong there.

I don’t know what to do from here. Where do I go? Am I supposed to sign something? Am I supposed to pay someone? I just don’t understand what the hell I’m supposed to do. I drop my head in my hands and try to fight back the tears that are urgently trying to push forth.

“Anabelle?”

I lift my head and see a nurse with kind green eyes staring down at me.

“Yes?” I croak.

“You don’t have to stay here. We’ll make all our arrangements on this end, and ensure your mom is in a safe place while you organize her funeral.”

You mean the morgue.

“But of course you can stay as long as you need.”

I can’t spend another second here. I need my little girl. I need to breathe her in. I need a reminder that it’ll all be okay.

“Do I have to sign something?” I croak.

“Yes, I have that right here.”

She has me sign a few things and then I’m free to go. Free to leave my mother’s deceased body. That thought makes me want to scream. This isn’t how she should have gone. It was meant to be fun. Her last days were meant to be happy ones. She was meant to see that Tina and I were happy, and that we were coping. Not this. Never this.

I walk numbly to my car and drive, doing nothing but staring out the windscreen. I honestly don’t even know how I make it to Max’s house. I get out, terrified that my entire body is numb. I should be crying. I should be screaming and demanding answers. Why the hell am I so numb? I walk up the front steps of the house I used to love so much, and even that doesn’t draw an emotion from me.

When I reach the front door, I lift my hand and knock.

A moment later the door opens, and Max is there. Seeing him makes all the emotions I thought I wasn’t feeling rush forth. I feel my own face crumble and scrunch as hysterical tears pour from my eyes.

Max doesn’t say a word. Instead, he does the best thing he can do for me. He pulls me into his arms and then into the warmth of the home.