Taylor's POV
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Initially, I kept imagining that somehow, miraculously as part of some kind of epic show of fate and divine intervention Jay would wash up on shore. Some border somewhere on any of the connecting countries. It could Italy, Spain or France. He could be on a raft. He could be breathless, sick and full of pain but he would be alive. Some kind person would scoop him up and I would be able to put him back together; to hold him again and to feel his heart against mine once more. And for months I've waited for something, I've waited for news. Dead or alive. Just knowing. My denial grew worse each time I realise I may never see him again: ever.
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My husband, my universe. My world stops.
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***
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"Taylor" he whispers and my hazy eyes open, looking up at the darkness of the room. The moon illuminates the sheets and his face drawn in an expression of concern; blonde hair and blue eyes. A top knot pulled back and a loose white T-shirt on as he watches me like I'm possessed. Bent over the large canopy bed wearing his sweat pants as he frets looking into my face.
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"You were screaming" Ross whispers his eyes fraught with worry.
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"At the top of your lungs" he explains crawling in and facing me. Eyes full of sadness, concern and worry. He was supposed to leave weeks ago, for the editing company in England however he's put his life on hold. The moment we all realised Jay's flight had crashed due to an engine fire over the sea, that it had plummeted thousands of feet through the sky into the Mediterranean all of our lives went on hold.
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"Nightmares." I say softly wiping my face of tears, the most common one I have is of Jay calling out to me. And as I follow the sound and timbre of his voice into depths of inky blue water, I sink further and further until the water fills up my lungs and I cannot breathe through the screaming. Calling out his name as I search for him.
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I'm sure I've eaten yet I feel empty, I'm sure I've washed yet here now at four thirty three am I cannot remember the last thing I ate or the last time I stood up out of this bed. Couldn't tell you what day it is, or where my children are even.
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"The babies" I say softly and Ross nods.
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"They're with Chris and Rach" he explains, I haven't been able to sit them down and tell them that their father is... because I will not accept that he is gone. One day I will wake up and he will stroll in with his briefcase, a keen smile over his face. He will hold me and I will be complete again. He will scoop up our babies in his arms and hug them. Emilia had demanded daddy's pancakes the day after we heard the news of the crash and it had sent me into utter crisis as I looked upon her face. Henry is more shrewd and I'm sure that somewhere inside of him he's aware that there is a crisis underfoot, as the children have never been away from the farmhouse and from me or their dad for any extended period of time. My mind whirls over telling the children that they no longer have a father and I cannot even begin to work out how to say the words. At five years and almost three years of age I can't imagine that they will fully understand the finality of the situation.
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Remnants of the aircraft have been dredged from the Mediterranean ocean, the fire is still under investigation. There's no clarity surrounding the tragedy so far and so it's left me at a loss of how to navigate the situation.
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"I can't do this anymore" I whisper to Ross in the dark and there's no sobbing, no tears. No looking for emotional security just emptiness. No pain to be dealt with just a longing to not wake up. For the nightmare to end, and for me to sink into oblivion where nothing exists.
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"Taylor" he whispers sobbing whilst holding onto my face with his palms.
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"I will do all of the things for you until you can do them again" he whispers with determination.
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"And even then I'll still keep doing them for you" he whispers holding me as I lay in the foetal position until the world goes dark and I no longer need to think about plane crashes or the inevitability that he's gone forever.
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***
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Wheat and barley, long grass and olive trees surrounds us. A dense part of the acres around the farmhouse. Walking is surely a good idea Taylor, I had told myself in the morning. Realising I had been in bed for days, possibly even weeks, time had become irrelevant but I had told myself that I must get out of it. If only to wash and to walk. Two basic functions of living and existing in the world.
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Looking down at the dense grass and the butterflies that swarm this part of land I feel Ross' hand, he doesn't speak all that much knowing that I will most likely not respond. Instead he remains present at all times by just holding me together. It’s been a few months since I woke up and realised that Jay had not arrived home, Ross and I had driven to the airport in a hurry believing that there must have been some kind of delay to his flight. Jay’s number disconnected whenever we would call him and I sat fretting in the car as he drove me calmly to Florence. Me barraging him with questions as I continually tried Jay’s number. The hour drive back was excruciating once we had been informed that the flight had lost control in the air, and consequently an emergency had been declared by the pilot on the plane. Ross has been there ever since, never faltering.
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"Do you think he felt it?" I whisper to him out of the blue. He turns his head slowly his hair pushed back as he looks down at me.
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"I just can't imagine it Ross" I whisper to him.
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"I can only imagine Taylor that when it all happened he would have been helping other people. This is Jay we're talking about" he whispers rubbing my hand in his thumbs.
Structural remains of the plane have since been pulled out of the ocean and just yesterday it was confirmed that nobody had survived the crash. Not a soul had lived to see another day, all had died either in the fire or from the collision that ensued when the plane hit the sea. The pilot had presumably been already dead once the plane submerged, the plane having lost control had violently crashed into the sea. The impact would have been insurmountable, unsurvivable.
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However day by day, items are being discovered from the wreckage, unbelievably some items were not burned which leads me to believe the plane must have crashed fairly quickly and the fire extinguished. Clothes, shoes and personal belongings. The worst a suitcase containing a young child's dresses and toys from a holiday presumably in Dubai. Babies clothes and bottles.
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"He would have helped everybody" I whisper looking out at the bright sun and demanding to know why I lost him. Why he was plucked from this earth, taken unfairly from his life that would have been a long and happy one.
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"He would have I know it" Ross says taking a seat on the grass by a collection of olive trees. I smooth the white button up shirt I'm wearing, it's Jay's from the closet. His scent although faded still remains and I placed a pair of shorts underneath it and my trainers.
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Hours pass, as the sun reaches over the sky and travels over the horizon, Ross holds me and we watch the world go by. No words, no condolences and no unnecessary chatter. He lets me cry without asking, he comforts me through the sobs. And although he is worried he never once tells me that I need to pull myself together.
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It's the first day I've felt anything again after weeks of being lost, dreaming of searching for him in the ocean and dying over and over again when I would wake up to the same reality of him being lost. My husband died, he was not able to survive that night and honestly I'm sure he would have done almost anything in his power to get back to us. Knowing that the local authorities have declared all passengers dead the enormity of the situation encompasses me. How we dreamed of having another baby. How he or she would have been born and Jay and I would have been able to see through the lives of all of our children. Our plans to travel the world, to celebrate our wedding anniversary and to do all of the things we have been robbed of.
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"We will need to throw a wake" I say softly as the moon makes a show, my eyes glistening with tears. Acceptance I tell myself, I accept that he is gone. However I will never lose him in my bones.
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"We can do that" he whispers holding onto me.
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"I have to tell the children" I begin looking out at the moon, how it glistens, imagining all of the things Jay and I could have been for one another. A life taken, robbed of all of its promise.
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"I will help you to do that" he whispers slowly wiping away tears that linger on my cheeks.
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"Did Matthew answer your calls?" I whisper after a few minutes, the air still and his face solemn. Jay and Matthew were childhood friends and although there has been a fair bit of animosity between them because of me, it's important that he knows his best friend has passed away.
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"No, calls all disconnected" he whispers standing and briefly holding his head in his hands. Ross has shouldered my grief entirely, forever being the support so much so that the worry on his own plate has been unaddressed. I stand slowly and take him in my arms as he exhales.
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"God darn self absorbed prick that he is" he curses as I wipe his eyes.
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"We have tried. You know..." I begin watching his face in the moonlight.
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"When Emilia was a baby and he stormed out, I kept in touch with him for a year and a bit, he ignored every message I sent. I decided after that- I mean it's a very clear signal when somebody doesn't want you in their life. But my point is this isn't on you. We tried." I whisper as he takes my hand in his own and walks me through the now dark fields. Crickets sounding in the distance and the birds migrating above.
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"Inconsiderate asshole" he whispers holding onto my hand as we walk through the dense grass. The vineyards in view ahead. The farmhouse lit up stands out from afar, Ross had invited Rachel and the children over this evening. As a soft introduction back to life, being around anybody other than just us. We've been utterly insular, his support and presence has brought me a long way. And we all felt it would be better for the children to be away from my grief, seeing their mother sink into depression is not what any of us wanted.
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"I'm not going back to England" he whispers under his breath as I turn to face him. His face utterly calm and decided. A resolve to his tone. A conviction behind his eyes.
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"Or New York. Or anywhere else other than where you are" he says softly.
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"I will never leave you. I am not going back. I'll sell the company, start something new." He begins and I shake my head slowly. His blonde hair swaying in the breeze, the stars glistening over us.
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"Ross that is your dream. No" I say softly stopping him in his tracks, he sweeps my hair back over my shoulder and shakes his head.
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"You are more important than my dreams" he explains logically.
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"This has put a fair amount into perspective for me. Taylor we're given one life" he whispers holding onto my hands as he walks us back through the vines.
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"One life" he repeats slowly.
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"I choose this for my life" he explains watching me look through the large windows that illuminate the farmhouse kitchen. My children sitting on the floor with Amelie. Rachel lounging over the linen sofa set and Christopher eyeing the stove like it's a spaceship. For the first time in weeks I laugh, his expression and inability to work out my gas stove tickles me.
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"You clicker it and it ignites I don't know!?" I hear Rachel say from afar and I can barely contain my excitement to hold my babies.
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"Who would I ever be to not have you back" I whisper as his smile softens watching me grasp the handle and let myself into my farmhouse. The wailing tears of a baby, the sound of the children playing nicely all seems normal to me as Rachel looks up at me with a small smile. Breastfeeding her second child, a little boy in a blue romper. The birth had been uncomplicated and a surprise to all of us as the baby came early. I owe Rachel my life, for having my children whilst looking after her newborn.
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"Mama" Emilia squeals running with arms wide open. Although she is small; she nearly knocks me out with the absolute force of her hug. Henry follows her and I sit down on my knees holding my babies. They hold the most treasured memories I have from my past with Jay. Henry sobs along with me and I ruffle his blonde curls back as we sit on the kitchen floor. The children had believed I had been away. And in truth I had been- I had not been myself, I was not fit to be their mother when I was unable to string together a sentence or get out of bed.
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"I love you darling" I tell him picking him up and holding him as Ross cradles Emilia in his arms and informs Christopher on how to ignite the gas stove, politely.
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"Thank you" I whisper through tears taking a seat down next to Rachel who nods rubbing my arm. Her blonde hair pulled into a messy bun and a pink jumper over her. She has clothed and fed my children when I couldn’t. She has loved them and played with them and made sure that they were just fine whilst the world was falling apart.
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"Anytime" she smiles as I look down at Thomas her small baby who I am yet to hold. His small hands and his sandy auburn hair. A new life, and a reason to find hope and comfort in the world.
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"Here" she smiles handing me the baby as Henry plays next to me.
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"Have you got it working yet" she calls out laughing as she paces over to the stove. I sit gazing down into Thomas' eyes as he gurgles up at me, holding onto my finger with his small hands.
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"Of course darling" Christopher smiles as I look up at Ross holding onto Emilia, his smile is soft and his eyes are kind as he watches me from the marble countertop. Emilia however demands his full attention telling him some story, she has him wrapped around her finger, it’s undeniably cute.
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"Henry I love you" I whisper down to him as he delicately strokes Thomas' hair. My kind sweet boy, as I look into his eyes that are Jay’s through and through, I know that soon he will learn that his daddy has gone and I intend on surrounding him with so much love.
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"And I have missed you" I whisper sinking into the lounger and holding onto the new life that I consider to be my own family.
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