Perspectives

POV

Millie

"Hey, Steph? I'm going to go see my old neighbors in about an hour," I say handing her phone back to her.

"Okay, sure. I think I'll drop by my parent's house while you do that then." She explains.

I nod my head.

Ugh, I have nothing here! All of my stuff is still in the penthouse. I guess I'll have to go there in my current messy state.

…

After about 45 minutes of sitting mostly in silence with Steph in the hotel room, I decide it's time to head out.

We both walk down together to the cars.

I point to the car that Steph walks to, "Um, whose car is that..?" I ask.

"Mia's," she says proudly.

"She knows what happened?" I ask.

Steph shakes her head, "no."

…

I drive to my old apartment complex, making it there within ten minutes.

It's incredible really, a few weeks ago I hated this place and loved driving away from it with the intent of never returning.

As I drive into the complex parking lot, it really doesn't seem so bad.

Perspective.

Perspective is everything, something I once hated, honestly is a dream compared to the house that sits on Sunset Avenue.

I park my car in visitor parking, walk the distance to the entrance, and make my way up to apartment 512.

I reach Mr. Daniels's apartment door and give it a knock. I pray to the good lord that I don't accidentally cry like a baby in front of them.

"Pull yourself together Millie," I tell myself.

The door opens and Mr. Daniels stands on the other end.

He embraces me in a hug, "It's so good to see you again Millie! Thank you for coming, come on in!" He gestures.

I walk in behind him.

"Isabella!" Mr. Daniels calls out for his daughter.

"She's been hiding out in her room a lot," he explains with distress in his voice.

More sadness falls over me when he says that.

Isabella comes out, beautiful as ever but definitely has a shifted look on her once happy-go-lucky face.

She runs over to me when she spots me, "Millie!" She squeals.

"Hi Izzy, I missed you!" I say hugging her.

"I missed you too," she says in her little voice.

For the first time today, I actually smile and it's genuine. This is just what I needed.

"I think I'm going to go take a walk," Mr. Daniels says and I know that's the cue to pry his daughter for information.

"Take your time," I say.

I have no idea how to approach this situation. I'm not used to having a conversation with a child, let alone an apparent sad one.

"What do you wanna do?" I ask cheerfully, even though I'm not, due to my own circumstances.

She shrugs her shoulders.

Great start…

"Can you paint my nails?" She finally asks.

"Oh yeah, sure," I say scratching the back of my head.

"Okay, I'll go find my nail polish, stay here!" She says running away.

I awkwardly stand in the living room, I walk over to their sofa table alongside a wall. It's filled with pictures of family photos. Although I've never met Mrs. Daniels, I know the pretty woman in most of these photos is her. She had long dark hair with dark brown eyes, a beautiful jawline, and just overall naturally pretty, I definitely see her in Isabella.

I turn around and see Isabella with nail polish in hand.

"Ready?" I ask the six-year-old girl.

She nods her head.

We walk over to the kitchen table and she hands me the purple nail polish.

"What a pretty color!" I say before starting.

"Mhm," she hums.

I undo the top of the nail polish and begin with her thumb.

"So how's school?" I ask.

She shrugs her shoulders causing her hand to shift in the process. I wipe off the excess purple off her finger.

"It's okay, my dad always gets it on my finger when he does it too." She says so matter of fact.

I chuckle.

"Yeah, it's not really their thing huh?" I say.

She shakes her head.

"Libby's nails always look so good, her mom does them for her." She explains joylessly.

I involuntarily furrow my eyebrows.

"Who's Libby?" I ask.

"Just a girl in my class, she thinks I'm weird because I don't have a mom." She says embarrassed.

Ahh, there it is….

"Izzy, you have a mom," I say looking into big brown sad eyes.

Her demeanor suddenly changes to frustration, "well where is she? Daddy said she went to heaven and she still hasn't come back!" She lets out in one breath.

Oh my god.

This poor little girl. How long has she been wondering about her mother's return? How do you explain what death really is to a child?

Did X feel this way as a ten-year-old boy? Did he wonder every day when his mom would come back? My heart breaks for the once child that he was. I may hate him right now but in this moment my love is stronger.

"Isabella…your mommy…" I trail off not knowing how to phrase any of this.

I look down at her little hand taking it in mine.

"Isabella, I'm so sorry, but your mommy can't come back." I release the words that cut through my heart for this little girl.

"Why? Why does everyone else get to keep their moms but not me?" She looks at me with despair in her face.

"I don't know Isabella, some people, they don't have moms that can be with them and some people don't have dads that can be with them," I say as she looks down.

I'm really trying my absolute hardest not to cry.

"You wanna know a secret?" I ask her.

She nods her head slowly.

"I don't have my mom or my dad anymore," I say the words out loud and they sting.

"You don't?" She asks quietly.

I shake my head no.

"Did they go to heaven too?" She asks.

"Yeah, they did," I whisper.

"Millie?" The little girl asks.

She looks me in the eyes searching for answers, "will I always be sad?" she asks breaking down in tears.

Jesus, this is too much for me. I start crying too, I'm supposed to be making this girl feel better, yet we're both crying at the kitchen table.

"Come here," I say through tears extending my arms.

She walks over, sitting on my lap, and sobs.

And so do I.

"Have you ever talked to your dad about this, Izzy?" I ask trying to compose myself.

She shakes her little head against me.

"Why not? You can't hold all this in Isabella, I held it all in and it's not good, you need to talk to your dad." I softly explain.

"Sometimes, when my daddy thinks I'm sleeping, I hear him crying, I don't want to make him sad." She says in tears.

Fuck me, I can't do this.

"Sometimes, you need to be sad first to be happy again," I explain with tears in my eyes.

"But if I'm happy, will she think I don't love her anymore?" She asks.

I feel so devastated for this little girl. She's so young and confused about how to feel. For the last three years of my life, I felt alone. I grieved in silence just like Isabella and her father are. I wish I could take the pain away for them just as Steph and X wanted to take the pain away for me. I have been living in the past the way the Daniels and my father have. I've always been afraid to move forward, guilty to move on from what I've caused. Whenever I smile or laugh I instantly feel remorse for being happy. So I ask myself the same question Isabella just asked me. If I'm happy, will she think I don't love her? Will she think I don't miss her, if I'm happy would she look down on me with disappointment for the mistake I made?

No, simply no. She would be devastated for what I've been putting myself through. She would want me to be happy, she would want me to move on, and she would want me to take what she's taught me and carry it throughout my life. She'd want me to live my life.

I open my mouth to speak but Mr. Daniels appears out of nowhere and walks over to his daughter with tears in his eyes, I'm assuming her words had the same realization as mine, "No sweetheart, mommy would want us to be happy, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." He says taking his daughter into his arms and out of mine.

I stand up with tears in my eyes, rubbing my hands on their backs. She may not have a mom anymore, but she does have one hell of a dad.