A/N: I'm just really sorry. I have nothing else to say. I'm just really really sorry.
It was late. I was so exhausted. It was dark. I was distracted. It was raining. I was worried. It was bright. I was scared. It was loud. I was alone.
I needed to get there. I promised. I couldn't let her down. Emma could not deliver our first child alone. I needed to be there by her side. I needed to hold her hand. I needed to cut the cord. I knew that Shannon was there, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't right. I needed to do all of those things that a husband and a father is supposed to do.
Susan. My baby girl. My daughter. My life. My world. I hadn't even seen her yet and I knew that she was the most perfect creation the world would ever know. She would have her mother's coloring, compassion, sense of humor, and dedication. She would have my interest in music, my nerve, my curls, and my need for love. Her mother and I would nurture her, spoil her, and most of all love her; love her like she was the most important thing in the world. And she would be. At least to us.
I didn't get to the hospital in time. I was crushed. By the time I made it to Emma's room, she was cradling the baby, crying, telling her about me. Shannon sat on a chair next to the bed with her head in her hands. I rushed into the room. Emma shivered at my touch, beginning to cry harder. I could have sworn that the baby looked right at me. I reached out my hand to take her tiny one in mine. Nothing.
Emma looked over at Shannon. "I can't believe he's gone."
I sank down onto the leather bench near the window. Had this really happened? Folding my head into my hands, I tried desperately to remember how I had gotten there, but I couldn't. There was nothing. Then, visions of two blinding lights heading toward me, causing me to swerve. The jostling of the car as it tumbled off the side of the road. The trees. The overwhelming darkness.
I brushed my fingers through my hair and looked over at my wife and newborn daughter. I watched as she kissed the baby on the head, rocked her and sang softly to her. For hours, I sat observing. Shannon left. Various current and former students came and went. Her parents. My parents. Still, through them all, I waited.
After each one had gone, Emma began to whisper something to the baby. "Your daddy loves you. He does. Even though he's not here, he loves you so much. And I love you so much. I don't know how we'll go on without him, but we'll figure it out." She wiped away a tear. "It's just going to be you and me now, Susan. You're going to grow up strong and caring like your daddy and, even though you'll never know him, you'll be so much like him that it won't matter much. You'll see. I know."
I stood, crossed to the bed and leaned down to kiss my wife on the cheek. Knowing that she couldn't hear me, and at a loss for words anyway, I merely whispered, "I love you both."
As I turned to leave, I heard Emma murmur, dozing off herself, "I know you do."
