A voice echoes in my head. He is perfectly imperfect for me now.
Concentrate.
I clear my throat. “You called me in for something?
Giulio nods slowly. “You can sit down.”
“I prefer to stand.”
“Okay.” He studies me without the shame of looking away and that drowns me in fateful water. His stare is long, meticulously outlining every one of my poised features. “I know this isn’t the place to discuss it, but it’s been in my head all day. One of the terms we agreed on regarding our separation was that we would remain honest and open, yes?”
“That’s right.”
Part of my world ended when we decided to legally begin the process of ending our marriage. It was one of the bleakest days of my life. I don’t know how it’s so easy for him, to throw around a word like that without wanting to slam his head against his desk.
Because that’s exactly how I feel.
“Sure you don’t want to sit?”
I nod. Please, just tell me.
“Well, as we know, all leads have been exhausted with Addilyn’s case. We never received closure and we may never obtain it.”
“What are you saying?”
Giulio’s eyes drop to the photo frame by his desk and I feel my insides burning. I know this is about our baby, but I don’t know about what specifically, and that scares me more than anything. We’ve been doing so well. I don’t want it all to blow up in flames, but we also need to have these complex discussions.
Gazing outside his window, Giulio’s fingertips trail over the edges of the photo frame lying flat on its face. Without even seeing it, I already know which one it is. The one of us.
Breathe.
Hold it together.
“Giulio…?”
“With the case cold, the only way to honor Addilyn and say goodbye is a private memorial. I know we already had one, however what I mean is…similar to a funeral. Something intimate with close family. The press may get involved, but we deserve a conclusion. I see this as our only way out.”
No.
No.
God, no.
My hands rush over my face but the pain doesn’t subside no matter how hard I rub. A memorial…a funeral…it’s out of the question for me. I know Giulio’s intentions come from the heart. I know his greatest desire is to move on and accept that we’ll never hold Addilyn again, but it’s too much for me.
I can’t believe he could even think of something like this, let alone tell me to my face when he knows how I feel about this subject. He knows I’ll never give up on finding her. I’ll dedicate the rest of my life to it if I have to. It can’t be all over.
It isn’t.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. I can’t bury an empty casket.”
“You’re saying it like we have a choice, Valencia.”
“Because we do have a choice and it’s to keep hoping,” I say. “If we were to go ahead with what you’re saying…to have a funeral…it…it would be too painfully real for me.”
Giulio pivots his chair to face me. I see the pain in his eyes. I see that this is ruining him as much as it is me. But I can’t lose the only thing keeping me together—faith.
“I understand what you’re saying, but at this point we don’t know Addilyn is alive.”
“Nor do we know that she’s dead!”
Dead.
It’s a word that raises hell for me. I don’t want to think of the possibilities. It feels as though the longer Giulio and I walk down this path, the more allusive the fire grows. Like a painting without any limits of ending. With an unlimited paint supply, our story will never be complete. There will always be imperfections within each change. Covered up beauty. A farfetched motive. No silver linings.
Addilyn is alive.
I still feel her.
She’s here with us.
Giulio stands, slips his hands into his pockets and staggers towards the floor to ceiling windows. Outside, Seattle is heavy with leaden skies. The hustle and bustle of the city downtown is washed away with the pitter-patter of rain. It wouldn’t be Seattle without it.
When he finally turns to face me, all I see is how close he is to breaking down. Giulio’s eyes are watery and I’m sure as hell not the only one with the sensation of impending doom in my heart. His entire body is tense and I know he’s hurting. The thing is, I need to think about myself too.
I need to remain committed to what I believe is true.
“As hard as it is to let go of a part of us, I cannot live with false hope anymore,” says the man I once called my husband without any thought of separation. “Please. I can’t do this alone, Valencia.” His whisper is a plea and I wish I could do more. Be more. I see the warmth in him. I see it all. But I’m so damn trapped inside my own head that I can’t feel it. No matter how much I wish I could. “Please, Valencia. This may be the only way to take a step forward. I need this. We need this. Please, trust me on this.”
“We’re both hurting. I understand your…can we please talk about this another time?”
“When? We’re separated. There may not be another time.”
“Thanks for the reminder about the separation but the co-parenting and hovering divorce papers are enough!” The anguished words are out before I even know it. I can’t seem to stop as my fists tighten on the chair. “It was cruel of you to suggest such a thing. I can live with hope, at least it’s something. At least there is a question mark versus complete darkness.”
I should have already known that when Giulio begins walking towards me and sets himself in such close proximity, that his warmth would electrify every part of me. Yes. He still has that effect on me and I hate myself even more for it.
“Exactly.” He bites back. “Losing Addilyn has me questioning
