Three months ago, Emma Pillsbury-Howell lay in my arms, with her head sleepily laid on my chest. She was singing to me.. I can't remember what the song was, exactly.. I just remember watching her in awe. She was beautiful. All I remember of that night, was me leaning down to kiss her lips, and telling her how much I loved her. Telling her how much I loved her was always important to me.
The night she told me she was ready to take our relationship to the next level, I was terrified. Even more so than she was. It hurt to see her in pain. A few tears trailed down her cheeks as we made love. Afterwards, I held her in my arms while she cried, rocking her back and forth. She told me how much she loved me.. How much she cared for me.. And how she would never leave me. That last one? It was a complete lie.
When Emma told me she was having my baby, I could see the fear in her eyes. She was terrified. Absolutely terrified. We lay on our bed, holding each other tightly. I brushed away the tears on her cheeks, and her tiny hands gripped tightly onto my shirt. Emma was going to be a great mom.. I could tell. When I told her this, she just kept crying, whispering, "I'm so scared," over and over again. I knew we'd have a great life with our kid. Or, so I thought.
Little Anna soon came along. She was gorgeous. Still is. She looks exactly like her mom. Alana was a chubby little thing. Lungs like a foghorn, too. But she was Emma's world. Emma doted on every single thing she did. When she smiled, Emma cried. When she began to talk, Emma cried. When she walked, Emma cried. You get the picture.
The day I remember most vividly was Anna's fourteenth birthday. We had a great little party for her, and she looked adorable. Emma wasn't there most of the day.. I figured she was just upset that her little girl was growing up. I walked into the room and found Emma sobbing into her pillow. Over the next few months, she grew more tired, and weak. Until just after Anna's fifteenth, she left us.