6 - The Door

Melissa’s POV

Three days have passed. Three full days, where I allowed myself to stay at the house just to prepare. Andrew stayed with Eleanor the whole time, making it easier for me to manage my plans.

Today is Allie’s memorial. I managed to secure a ceremony at the Sacred Gardens chapel, which is decorated with everything that Allie liked. Pink roses and baby’s breath, little ribbons and rainbows. I even handmade some stuffed toys to take with her for her cremation. I liked to think that they would keep her company while she crossed the bridge, so that she wouldn’t be alone and afraid.

The cremation is done now. Her white urn is on the altar, ready to be blessed so I could take it home. Even though I told Andrew about the location and the time, he still didn’t manage to come.

I call him once again, maybe for the last time. Not really expecting him to answer anymore.

But just as I’m about to drop the call, it connects.

However, instead of Andrew, Eleanor answers from the other end.

“Hello,” she says sweetly. “Melissa, it’s good to hear from you. Andrew isn’t here, though. He’s picking out toys for Lottie. Why don't you—”

I hung up the call.

“Is everything okay?” the minister asks. I’m alone in the chapel, the only person who has to bear the grief of losing a child. “We’re thirty minutes past the schedule. Are we to wait for Allie’s father?”

“No need,” I murmur. “Allie has waited for her father long enough already. Let’s start the ceremony.”

The minister nods, his eyes sympathetic as he gets behind the altar and starts the mass.

* * *

Allie’s urn remains in my arms throughout the whole ride home. I took some flowers and some of the plushies with me, keeping them all together as I go back to the house. I head to the guest bedroom, placing the urn and the other stuff by the bed, adding my favorite photo of Allie: her in her favorite pink dress and a daisy in her hair.

I leave the room, closing the door. I’m not even sure if Andrew will still come. But I decide to wait for him in front of the room, sitting on the couch.

Soon enough, someone knocks on the door.

“It’s open.”

Andrew walks in, his arms filled to the brim with paper bags of so much stuff. He takes all of them out hastily, as though to show them off to me.

“I was late because I had to get these,” he explains defensively. “I even got a cake for her birthday. I got a dress here too, so she would stop reusing that pink one that she’s starting to outgrow. Where is she? Is she still asleep?”

I don’t answer.

“Allie, I’m here!” he calls out in a cheerful tone. “Look what Daddy brought you!”

I let him grow impatient, opening the door of Allie’s room.

When he sees nothing but the neatly made bed, he steps back, surprised. He faces me in confusion, turning back to the bedroom like Allie’s going to jump from behind the door and surprise him.

But when that doesn’t happen, he turns his attention back to me. “Where’s my daughter?”

‘My daughter.’ I almost want to laugh at his audacity. But I can’t manage anything more than a cold look at his face.

“She’s not there,” I state simply. “You’re never going to see her again.”

Rage takes over the puzzlement on his face. He angrily sets down the cake and squares up to me. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you admitting that you’re hiding her? We agreed that you’re going to let her see me today to make up for her birthday. You can’t just take that back because I was late! I still showed up!”

I didn’t want to say anything, but his last words make my ears ring. It’s almost like he wants a medal for showing up late. I wanted to end the argument but seeing the ridiculous stuffed toys and dolls in his arms that I know Allie wouldn’t even touch, I start to remember what Eleanor said on the phone.

“Get rid of those gifts,” I command him dryly. “I know those things are supposed to be for Lottie. I doubt Allie would appreciate toys that aren’t meant for her.”

Andrew is taken aback. “What’s wrong with that? Can they not share?”

That’s the last straw for me. I grab the paper bag with the dress in it, holding it up and knowing that it’s not even Allie’s size. Not even close. Even in death, she’s supposed to be happy with leftovers. Leftover clothes and gifts….

Leftover energy from her father.

During the entirety of Allie’s life, she never got anything whole from Andrew. Not his heart, not even gifts that he could easily pick up.

I rip the dress with my hands, tossing the pieces to the floor and stepping on them. Getting them dirty, tearing them even more.

Andrew is shocked by this. He suddenly drops everything, trying to get to me.

“Melissa, get a hold of yourself!” he scolds. “You’re angry, I get that, but don’t bring Allie’s gifts into this! What is she even going to say?”

I ignore him completely. I take the stuffed toys and dolls that he dropped, yanking them apart, ripping through the seams. I bring out all the simmering anger that I’ve been feeling, destroying everything.

“Goddammit!” Andrew yells. “You really have no limits, do you?”

I don’t care about what he says. I take the cake and smash it on the wall too. I can do much more. So much more damage.

But Andrew decides that it’s enough and holds me by the shoulders, steadying me.

“STOP IT!” he yells in my face. “This is for Allie’s birthday, not yours! How dare you destroy everything? Look, why don’t we try to get along for her, just for today? I’m willing to set aside everything and get her new things that she’s going to like. Let’s take her out. Let’s make her happy. Where is she?”

At first, I can't speak. Andrew glowers at me, grabbing my shoulders.

"Where the hell is Allie? Speak to me!"

I stare into his eyes, matching the fury in them. I raise a shaking hand to point to where Allie is.

In the guest bedroom.

In her urn.

“My Allie!” Andrew calls out, his tone soft and sweet, but his eyes indifferent as he sweeps his gaze dismissively over me. “Daddy is here! Come on out, sweetheart.”

He places a hand on the doorknob and gives it a tug.