Here is the second part of my story.
I sat in awe, looking up into this handsome mans face. Those bright, mysterious eyes stared deeply at me. As I opened my mouth to talk, to ask why was he here? Why did he call himself my husband? He started talking before I had the opportunity to say anything.
"Before you ask, I had to come and see you. I had to check to see if you were ok. The only way they would let me see you were if they thought I was family. Immediate family is always in the records, and I didn't think husband was too far off what I could be to you." He smiled sheepishly, with a tint of redness reaching his tanned cheeks. "Now that's over and done with, hello."
I almost laughed at the situation. Someone had gone through all the effort to see me, to make me feel better. And most of all, it was someone I didn't really know. He even hinted about being my boyfriend. I couldn't believe it. A moment after the smile almost hit my lips, my guard rose up around me again. I built myself a 12ft wall, guarding me from everyone and anyone.
He must have seen the smile leave my face, my eyes dim as I faded out of the situation. He spoke softly, "hey, look I'm not going to hurt you. I really came here to see if everything was ok with you. I was worried. People were talking about a young, beautiful young lady that had..." He stopped talking instantly. I knew what he was going to say, 'the lady that lost her child'. Reality folded in, I had lost my child! Never was I going to see it walk, talk and play with the other children. It was gone, gone from my life. Tears filled my eyes as, again I mourned for my babies death. I kept my eyes fixed on the bed in front of me; I couldn't bring myself to look into those mysterious eyes.
I could feel the tears begin to flood my cheeks, and my body began to shudder as I sobbed. His hands came up and around me as he sat on the bed. He held me close to him, I could feel the roughness of his hands, but they were also gentle as they ran up and down my back. The opposite emotions were running through my body, the sadness and also the feeling of being held. As much as I desperately wanted to move away, I couldn't bring myself to. My arms came up around him, my wall was gone. I hugged him, drew him into me as I let myself go. I cried and cried. Nothing in the world was letting me stop crying, stopping the tears from streaming down my face. Nothing was letting me release this man, the first man who had ever held themselve in my embrace with passion. Never did I want this moment to end.
Finally, he pulled away from me and stared deep into my eyes. I thought to how red my eyes would look, my blotchy face. I pulled my hands up to cover my face. He tenderly touched my hand and brought it back down to my side. With his other hand he reached forward and touched my cheek, wiping away a tear that was beginning to fall. My tears had slowed, no longer crying for my baby, instead for the new sensation that was tugging at my heart. He leant forward, closing his eyes. My body froze at the thought at what might happen. His lips made contact with my cheek, then he stood up. Adjusted his jacket, said his goodbye and left.
I sat there for what seemed a lifetime, not that I had anywhere to go. I thought about the tenderness that he kissed me with. I felt disappointment. I wanted him to kiss my lips. I wanted to taste him, to feel those soft lips within my own, caressing and stroking them. I wanted to feel the unspoken passion between us in a kiss.
