I grabbed her neck, fingers disobeying my commands. I squeezed her throat with uncontrollable anger. “Don’t ever touch me.”
I watched my actions as if my soul was unencumbered by my body. A spectator as I wrung the neck of the woman I adored. Screaming silently, I raged to stop but the conditioning pulled me under its unbreakable web.
Zel’s eyes filled with glittering terror and her fingers flew to her hair.
I grabbed her wrist—stopping her from going for her knife.
“Not this time, dobycha. Not this time.”
Her body flailed and she tried to kick and squirm, but it was no use. There was nothing I could do. I would kill her and I would swallow a bullet afterward for not being strong enough to save her.
Then Hazel saved both of us.
“Take your f**king hands off me, Operative Fox. Stand down this instant.”
The order sliced through my foggy haze, dispelling the howling wolves and eternity of ice.
I blinked.
The command took all control away from me and I cowered. Pain. Torture. Payback for disobeying.
Loathing filled me, crippling my limbs as I skidded away and sucked in ragged breaths. I couldn’t do it. I’d done what I’d been terrified of. I lost control. If I hadn’t given Zel power over me, I would’ve killed my f**king family all over again.
I ran.
And Corkscrew delivered retribution.
That was at the start of May. By the end of the month, we’d settled once again into a routine and Clue popped around often. She and Zel remained close and for the first time in my life, I had a network of people who saw me for what I was and accepted me. Dinners were a bi-weekly affair, and Clue kept Hazel distracted from her thoughts when they turned sad by planning a ridiculous baby shower and choosing colours for the nursery.
June was the first month Zel felt the baby kick. It effectively did what I’d hoped all along. It showed that Clara no longer needed us, but a new life did. It helped us stay strong and granted peace. Hazel wasn’t completely happy but more and more I’d catch a soft smile or contentedness mixing with her heavy grief. She spent a lot of time in the room I’d made for her. Talking to Clara, stroking the horse statues that she loved so much.
July Clue and Ben took us out for dinner to celebrate Hazel’s twenty-fifth birthday. It was the first party I’d been to, the only one I’d ever celebrated. I couldn’t remember my own birth date, so Hazel let me share hers. We ate decadent food and went on a cruise around Sydney harbour. I gave Zel her present when we got back—another metal sheep to stand proud and perfect beside Clara’s. It’d been the best night of my life.
August we finished the nursery. And Zel unpacked boxes full of Clara’s toys. She decorated the space with memories of her daughter, ready for a new child to play with. I did fear if the child was a boy, though. The amount of My Little Pony stuff that littered groaning shelves would scare any male.
Every day that passed healed as well as hurt. And I often heard Clara in my head. She’d become my unofficial conscience. My lifeline when the conditioning grew too strong.
September, Hazel went into labour. She’d opted for another caesarean after the complications with Clara’s birth, and I watched absolutely f**king terrified as she brought not one, but two lives into the world.
My heart broke, mended, and then shattered all over again to think we’d been given one new life, and Clara had somehow found a way to come back to us. I couldn’t thank the universe enough. I became a f**king fool—wandering the hospital corridors in a daze while I waited for the nurses to make Zel comfortable.
It’d been a whirlwind of fear and joy. I hadn’t wanted to watch Zel be cut open and two little lives pulled out, but she made me stay and hold her hand.
It was the least I could do.
And I’d fallen head over heels all over again. She was so f**king strong. So brave.
Once Zel had been stitched up and the babies cleaned and weighed, Clue and Ben arrived to coo and blow kisses at the tiny bundles in blankets. Ben had seemed more smitten than Clue. His dark skin flushing with awe and eyes filling with future possibilities whenever he glanced at his woman. I had no doubt he had babies on the brain.
I hadn’t gone near the twins. I hadn’t lied to Zel when I said I was petrified. I wasn’t strong enough. I wanted to see them, touch them, but I stayed away for protection.
The moment I’d set eyes on them, I’d been possessed. The love I’d had for Clara increased as my heart swelled for my children. A family I never thought I would have.
I never wanted to be a father. I never thought it would be in my future. I didn’t think I would care for anything or knew how to love. But Clara cured me of that ridiculous notion. She’d taught me what my true purpose was. She brought me back to life and if it was up to me, I’d have a f**king plethora of children.
I sighed, entering the private room where Hazel rested. It was late, and the neonatal wing of the hospital was hushed.
The bedside light glowed softly, pooling around Zel. I stopped beside the bed, drinking in the tiredness around her eyes, her tangled hair spread on the pillow. She couldn’t have looked more perfect. She’d fought and won. She’d created two intricate, incredible little lives.
Her forehead furrowed while she dreamed and I wondered what went on behind her mask. Oscar had been right about her. She was quiet but there was so much I didn’t know about her. So much she hadn’t shared. I didn’t know who’d fathered Clara. I didn’t know how she got the scar below her eye.
I’d tried to piece together little puzzles of what her life might’ve been like before Clara, but found I couldn’t. She hid her past so well and threw all her attention into her future.
I hadn’t pried because I wanted her to tell me on her own terms. But the curiosity never left. Then again, she didn’t know much about me. We’d come into this relationship hiding who we truly were and found a new identity in each other.
Our baggage had no room to be aired. And I liked to think nothing in our past mattered. If we kept it sealed and hidden, it would eventually cease to exist. Just a distant memory.
Reaching to cup her pale cheek, I swallowed back the overwhelming love.
Her green eyes opened. Foggy at first, but the moment she recognised me, her smile beamed with affection. Affection for me. What did I ever do to deserve her?
She cleared her throat and shifted, wincing a little. “Have you held them yet?” Her voice was hushed in the quiet space only interrupted by low beeps and monitors around the room.