The Weight of Loss

The Weight of Loss

Ava had slipped silently from the couch her movements elegant and slow a far cry from the raging storm inside of me. With a gentle soothing voice she had whispered Ill make you some tea and then vanished vanishing into the mansions silence. Even though I was still slouched on the soft cushions and felt her warmth by my side her abrupt absence left me feeling completely alone and lost in a sea of hopelessness. My body felt heavy immobile and rooted to the spot. Sleep was an unattainable dream despite the fact that every muscle ached and every nerve ending screamed with fatigue. My eyes were raw and gritted as I stared blankly into the fireplaces flickering embers. The only sound in the large deserted room was the silent crackle of the flames as they danced creating unpredictable shadows on the imposing walls. I tried to stop the incessant stream of ideas that kept coming to me by burying my face in my hands and pressing my palms against my aching temples. Fiona. Her lifeless pale face. The doctors terrifying statement: 50/50. The vision of her body trembling the painful moment of awareness stolen by the approaching shadows. It was an agony a vicious never-ending cycle that kept coming back to me. My eyes were swollen from the tears I had let myself cry in Avas presence and my throat was raw. I was Alexander Navarro a man who ruled over fortunes established empires and never displayed signs of weakness. However I was a shattered mess tonight completely helpless and brought to my knees by how fleeting life is. Even in the seclusion of this room the shame of my vulnerability left me with a bad taste in my mouth. I detested this sense of powerlessness. The uncertainty that tore at my gut was something I detested. In an attempt to find a comforting familiarity my hand automatically reached into my coats inner pocket. It was a tiny cool metallic object that my fingers closed around. I took it out while staring at it and feeling its importance weigh down on my hand. Fionas necklace. Her birthstone was a delicate silver chain encrusted with tiny glistening emeralds. It was a memento of our unbreakable bond and enduring love that I had given her on our tenth anniversary. Despite the fact that she lived far away I had always carried it with me as a silent talisman and physical reminder of you. Now as I gazed at it the emeralds dim glint in the firelight reflected the hopelessness within me. Once more hot fresh tears filled my eyes obfuscating the exquisite workmanship. A memory a shared laugh a whispered secret or a promise appeared to be reflected in every stones facet. The memories were a painful reminder of the vibrant woman who was now lying motionless and cold barely surviving. I didnt want to feel helpless. To regain some control I clenched my jaw and tried to stop the tears. My public image which I had painstakingly developed over many years was one of unwavering resolve and strength. If in the face of my personal tragedy I couldnt even control my emotions how could I face my board my investors and my enemies? This vulnerability felt like a betrayal a dangerous crack in my carefully painted façade. But any illusion of control was destroyed by the sight of Fiona so frail so close to slipping away. My anxieties were a never-ending flood that swept me away engulfing me in a sea of fear. The idea tore through me with a raw indescribable pain that made my chest hurt: what if this was it? What if she didnt return? What if the 50/50 turned into a final heartbreaking zero?I was married to her. My wife. The opposite side of my world. It was impossible to imagine losing her. My mind then unexpectedly turned to Ava. To her unassuming strength. To the manner in which she had actually listened to my unfiltered expression of grief and terror. Her arms encircled me providing me with the unexpected comfort of a solid foundation even as I collapsed. She had given me words of encouragement and faith in her struggle and those words had struck a chord with an unanticipated strength. It seemed odd. I experienced the excruciating helplessness the overwhelming fear of losing Fiona and the crushing weight of her fragility.Ava possessed a distinct kind of strength. A soft reassuring presence that appeared to steady my tremors. She provided unexpected shelter during the storm and served as a haven. I came to the startling realization that having her around had made it possible for me to really breakdown to let go of the layers of control and just feel. It was a great relief as well as a frightening vulnerability. Her fortitude and tenacity seemed to pour into me like a calm current that balanced the hopelessness. I took another look at the necklace its delicate beauty a moving representation of the life on the line. With a silent supplication and a fervent prayer my thumb moved across the icy metal. I knew that I couldnt remain here broken and defeated. I was helpless. Fionas recovery and my own emotional stability were both things I had to fight for. I also had Ava. I was distracted from my thoughts by the gentle thud of footsteps on the soft carpet. She was there when I looked up. Ava. Carrying two steaming mugs she approached me with a worried expression on her face. A pleasant diversion from the metallic tang of fear in my mouth was the warm calming scent of herbal tea that drifted towards me. “Here you go.” she said in a soft kind voice. “It is chamomile.It might ease your tension.”I was startled out of my gloomy reverie by her sudden appearance and silent sacrifice. Previously holding Fiona's necklace my hand made an automatic movement. Without giving it any thought I hurriedly stuffed the tiny priceless item back into my coats secret pocket out of sight. It was a deep-rooted behavior a reflex developed over years of protecting my most vulnerable areas and concealing my most revered aspects from the outside world. From Ava who had just seen me completely unravel.