In The Arms Of An Angel

	I lift the remote wearily from the armrest and flick off the TV, sucking in a breath as I heave myself up from the settee. I catch sight of myself in the mirror, and I can't surpress a sigh, my hand flitting to my stomach. I'm definitely pregnant. My ankles have been swollen for the last three months, and I can't see over my bump - haven't caught sight of my feet in weeks, but that might be a blessing, I don't think I wanna look at them even if I could.

	It's weird - because that's when I think about Dennis the most. He was meant to be here, to help me through everything. He was gonna give me a massage every time I complained that my back hurt, he was gonna rub my feet, tell me I was still beautiful.... the most beautiful pregnant woman that ever was. And I'd have believed him. But all I am is pregnant, alone and scared.

	Because he's not here. He should be, he swore he would be, but he's not. A lump forms in my throat and I gulp it back. I can't be angry with him, not anymore. I did that, the first time the baby kicked. Because I waited, I actually waited for him to come bounding into the room and press his hand into my stomach; for his eyes to glitter and his lips to form into the most heart rendering smile and say "Oh.... Sharon.... it's our baby-"

	But he never came. And for a while, I didn't understand why. Vicki saw the tears spilling down my cheeks and settled herself next to me as I winced my way through another kick. And she realised what it was, her fingers flitting over my navel. And I'd managed the weakest smile. I wasn't trying to seem ungrateful - it just wasn't her I needed.

	Here I was, nine months pregnant, waking up and feeling sicker and sicker, knowing that soon I'd be holding his child in my arms. I'd dreamt about it, and was certain I'd see Dennis as I looked at them. Them. It. I'd never asked to be told what sex the baby was, too scared I'd realise I was carrying the son I knew my darlin' had yearned for. The idea still petrifies me, it ties my stomach in knots, because soon, so very soon, I'll know.

	I push the tears threatening from my eyes, forcing myself to smile at my haggard reflection. But the fear doesn't lesssen. I don't know how to be a mother. I never thought I'd be one did I? I'm as scared as he was the moment we found out. I thought he'd be with me, that we'd get through it together.... but I'm alone - and I can't do it alone. But I can't bear the idea I'll fail him.

	Spend all your time waiting for that second chance
	For the break that will make it OK.
	There's always some reason to not feel good enough
	And it's hard at the end of the day.

	I've done what I do best. I've run away. I'm holed up in some hotel. A nice hotel, four star. The cold plastic in my pocket should offer me something at least. So here I am, waiting to give birth. Not knowing whether it will be here, in the middle of some shopping square or in a cab when I finally sort myself out and head back to Michelle & Vicki. I've been here three days now, and they've each tried calling me countless times since they'd gotten up Tuesday morning and realised I was gone - having done a moonlight flit to God knows where. I know they're both going out of their minds with worry, and that I should feel ashamed of myself enough to at least talk to them, but.... I can't.

	The storm that's whirring outside tells me it would be pointless to try. It's like a monsoon out there. The rain's been lashing for hours at the windows so hard, I've checked for smashes more than once. The wind's been howling like.... like me. It's gotten so dark, and all that I can think is how alone I feel. I hate storms. And if.... if Dennis was here and he'd be laughing in my ear, telling me I was soft and that "it's just a storm, baby."

	Some storm. The vibration of the claps of thunder have been shaking through the floor, and the forks of lightning streaking the sky have been creating meanacing shadows on the wall. I feel stupid, trying to laugh it nervously away, even though there is no-one to hear me. I just wanna go and hide in the corner. I wanna believe I'll be able to feel his arms around me, protecting me, if only I wish for them hard enough.

	But I don't feel anything, not least til a roaring rip of thunder explodes right above me, and I jump out of my skin, barely managing to stop myself screaming with it. My legs beginning to feel a little less like jelly, I straighten my back, only to immediately feel a searing pain go right across my stomach!

	"Oooch!" I cry, feeling tears sting. "You felt that too eh?"

	Kick.

	"Ahhh! What are you.... doing.... in.... there?" 

	I need some distraction, oh beautiful release
	Memories seep from my veins
	They may be empty and weightless and maybe
	I'll find some peace tonight.

	And then.... a fear more gut-wrenchingly deep than any I have ever felt before. Frightfully, I address my bump. "You are staying in there right?"

	Nothing. So I tempt fate.

	"K...Kick once if you're staying.... twice if you're coming out..."

	I draw in a deep uneasy breath as I brace myself.

	"Three? What does that mean? You're just being obstinate aren't you.... just like your.... oohhhh!"

	I grip the mantle, pressing my other hand into my back to help straighten myself out.

	"Alright, I get you! You're coming out, alright!"

	Oh my God. I'm having a baby.... really having a baby.... shit, what I am meant to do?

	Is it too soon to push? Course it is! My waters haven't even....

	Correction. My waters have just broken. All over a carpet that ain't mine. Lovely. The room service bill will be fun reading then.

	"Oooh, ease off will you?" I pant, seemingly addressing my own reflection in the mirror. "Don't think you have to spare me or anything, I'm just the one whose lugged you round for nine months... Ahhh! So... is this gonna be quick then?"

	I don't know what it is I'm expecting exactly, but as the twinges - twinges, who am I kidding? - the searing rips of pain coarsing through me die away, a new kind of panic sets in.

	"Wh-Why did you do that?" I stammer. "Why have you stopped? Are you alright?!"

	And I wait, the knot in my stomach getting so tight with every passing second, that about a minute later I can barely breathe, gasping in the air with weak choking breaths. The sounds pounds against the walls, and I realise where I've heard it before. Those last breaths.... against my hand as I cradled him in my lap .... cool breaths.... light breaths.... his dying breaths...

	My knees buckle and I collapse on the floor, sobbing. "Oh.... oh Dennis! Where are you?" I call desolately. "Can you hear me darlin'?" I lift my head, studying the shadows on the wall. "Please.... please say our baby will be OK...."

	I fiddle with the wedding ring on my finger. Maybe I should have taken it off. A widow is not a wife. But I can't bear to. Dennis is still my husband - why can't I still be seen as his wife?

	"I thought I wouldn't have to do this alone!" I howl angrily, pulling my hands through my hair, panicked tears spilling down my cheeks. "Help me, please! Just.... let me know you're here.... if not me..... then be here for our baby-" For some inane reason, I force myself to smile, but the pressure to give into more sobs beats me, twisting my lips as I cry. "I'm scared Dennis.... I don't know what to do! What shall I do? Shall I call Vicki?"

	The shadows on the wall flicker as another streak of lightning illuminates the sky. I take that as my confirmation and drag myself up, barely noticing as I knock the lamp to the floor, leaning so heavily on the sideboard. I don't have the strength to get up onto my feet, so I'm more on my knees as my shaking hand closes around the phone, the other stabbing in the numbers.

	The tone bleeping at me, letting me know that the line is disconnected barely registering and I'm shrieking "Vicks.... baby.... baby coming!" over and over - screaming in frustration at not having heard her answer me and slumping back down on the floor.

	"Please-" I whisper miserably to my bump, rubbing my thumbs across the top. "-just do something...."
	
	Immediately, I hear the door open. I don't think that it might be odd, that no-one should be here.... or that my little sister is halfway upstate. "Vicki?" 

	Oh my God. Not even twenty minutes into childbirth, and I've died. Or lost my mind. Blinking my way through my tears, I keep expecting to open my eyes (again and again and again) and see nothing but the empty room. But that's not what I see. Because, hands stuffed in the pockets of the jeans he had been wearing the last night we were together, stands my husband. Dennis, shoulders hunched, staring nervously at the sodden floor, not knowing quite how, or when it would be right to, meet my eye.

	"I...I...It's you!" I splutter, stuck half between happiness and utter disblief, smothering the strangled sound with my hand, tears still coarsing down my cheeks.

	He nods slowly. "Me." Stepping towards me, I flinch a little, but he lets out a warm sigh, shaking his head as he crouches down. He lifts his hand, pushing back the curtain of my hair, whispering. "Hey Sharon."

	Almost as soon as he touches me, another thunder clap roars outside, and I scream, shaking. He chuckles again and when I raise my gaze to him, those beautiful glittering eyes searing into me, he pulls me into his arms. And I feel him. Oh, it feels so good to feel him again. I guess I did wish hard enough to have his arms around me.

	In the arms of an angel, fly away from here
	From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
	You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
	You're in the arms of an angel, may you find some comfort here.
	
	"It's just a storm baby."

	My spine goes rigid, a pain shooting through as I realise I've heard those words.

	"I'm scared." I whimper.

	"Don't be. I'm here now." He sees the terror I know resides in my eyes. "Sharon... the baby's fine..."

	"You don't know that."

	"Yes I do."

	"No, you don't!" I protest, seizing his hand. "-hasn't moved.... feel-"

	His fingertips stretch shaking out across my bump, coming to rest just above my navel. And I glare at him pointedly. But then -

	Wham!

	"Arrrrghhh!" I yell, bending instinctively forwards as that pain comes again. Not so much a contraction as a very determined kick. Panting my way through the pain, I look over at Dennis and see that spellbound look upon his face, eyes glittering like it's Christmas, his lips twitching, entirely unable to accomodate a smile as big as the one he wants to display.

	"Oh.... Sharon.... it's our baby-"

	Oh God.... he's not felt it before.... but... no.... That was just something else I'd prayed for him to say all these months on my own.

	"You're not really here are you?"

	"Wh-What?" he asks, confusion etched in his beautiful face. Oh I've missed his face more than he'll ever know. "Of course I am. I wasn't gonna miss this was I?"

	"No... but you can't be. You're just coming out with everything I wanted to hear you say...."

	"Well, maybe that's because I wanted to say it..."

	"No. It's not.... Dennis, if you're so into pleasing me then where have you been when I've wanted.... ooohh!.... to share these.... arrgghh!.... moments with you? When the baby kicked...? F*ck!... antenatal classes.... scans..."

	He drops a kiss on my head that I barely feel. "I was right next to you. And really, you know that. You're just sorry that's all. Sorry as I am that I couldn't feel all these things with you...." He nudges me with his shoulder and I straighten up, his hands, his warm hands coming up to frame my face. "Oh... darlin', I've missed you so much-"

	I whimper in surprise.... in desperation as I feel his mouth crash hard against mine, his tongue sliding in. He's here. He's kissing me.

	"I love you." he whispers, daring to leave my lips.

	"I love you too." I choke, spluttering as another wave of pain hits, grappling for his hand. "Ohhh, Dennis, it hurts, why does it hurt so much?"

	He forces me to lean back against him, and he pushes the hair back from my face, before taking up both my hands. "I don't know.... just breathe darlin', c'mon...."

	I pant, breathing like he has told me to. It's a miracle he knows that's what I'm supposed to do, after all, it wasn't him that held my hand all through the antenatal classes. 

	"I... I can't do this... I don't know what to do.... I want it to stop!"

	"Shhh-shhh!" Don't say that.... you're doing fine..."

	"No...." I cry, shaking my head like a little girl. "No... I can't... I won't... I don't even know when to push! Ahhh!" I bear down, gasping my way through the immense wave of pain.

	"Now." he smiles. "Push when it hurts."

	"It always bloody hurts!" I yell.  "This baby's just like you... taking ages."

	I can almost hear the smirk in the warm sound that bounces off my earlobe. "Never heard you complain before."

	"I've never been in labour before! It's.... oooch!.... just as well we won't ever have sex again-"

	"Don't remind me." he murmurs miserably.

	"I'm only doing this for you! But I... I want Vicki..." Yes, Vicki knows what to do, she's been with me all the time, she'll know. And I try and break away from him and crawl towards the phone, but he pulls me back just as another contraction comes.

	"Sharon! Sharon!" he says desperately, having to restrict the flailing of my arms, covering me in kisses, hoping to placate me. "Do you want me to go?"

	"What?" I gasp, feeling my stomach drop to my toes. "No! You can't leave me! Dennis, I'm having.... your baby and I'm.... owwww!... I'm scared shitless."

	"I know, baby." he says, rocking me gently. "I know."

	"Please don't leave me.... I need you here... don't leave me... not again... I'm begging you, not again..."

	I can see the regret in his face as he reaches and cradles me, releasing soothing, apologetic noises into my hair as I crumble, sobbing helplessly, repeating my pleas over and over. "Oh Sharon... I'm so sorry... I didn't mean it... forgive me darlin', I won't... I won't go anywhere... I'll be right here... like always... shhh, c'mon, I'm here, I swear, I'll always be here-"

	"Why... why did you leave me? I needed you... you promised you'd be here... for me... for the baby..."

	"I was... I was..."

	I barely notice as another contraction pulses through me. My body's on autopilot. "Why didn't you come back to me?"

	His voice quivers dangerously as he answers me. "Because.... I had to protect you.... Johnny threatened you Sharon... you and my baby.... the two most important people in my whole li-"

	Life.

	And death. 

	"I... I had your blood all over my hands Dennis... I held you for so long, they tried to pull me away, but I just couldn't let you go. Crying... screaming.... begging for you to come back.... to me... to us. I never wanted to do this alone- I don't want Michelle... Vicki... I don't want them taking over... telling me how to be a mother to my own baby... you were supposed to tell me that, Dennis-"

	So tired of the straight line and everywhere you turn
	There's vultures and thieves at your back

	"If that's what you want - then I will. Be you Sharon.... give this baby everything you gave to me-"

	The storm keeps on twisting, you keep on building the lies
	You make up for all that you lack

	I nod miserably, as I hunch forward to answer another contraction, feeling the sweat prickle across my forehead as I bear down again, groaning.

	I can hear him wince at the level of my obvious pain as he holds me up, and for the first time, through this haze of blistering agony, I realise this is what it must have felt like to have a knife go through you. Searing pain that tears you open from the inside, warm, petrifying... final. There's no escaping the fact that soon I will be a mother, just like Dennis couldn't escape the fact he was going to die once the blood had stained his clothes, his hands... my hands, staggering towards me to.... to say goodbye.

	"Why... Why did no-one tell me this was gonna hurt so much?"

	"Oh darlin', you didn't expect all that pleasure to come without pain did you?"

	"You'll have something else coming in a minute!"

	He recognises the double entendre with a gentle mocking laugh.

	"I know, and I'm so proud of you... actually, I'm quite proud of me too..."

	"Look, do you wanna give birth to our child or what?"

	I hear this little bubbling sound that says he was considering a reply, but I can't focus on that. Stronger than any before comes the almighty urge to push.

	Unashamedly screaming and crushing his hands with mine, I hear a sound. Not his painful groaning, not mine. A new sound, a lustful cry.

	Taking in a deep breath, Dennis looks expectantly over my shoulder. I'm too exhausted, wanting the tightness in my chest to lessen before I follow suit. But it takes mere seconds for that desire to pass and as I look down, I see a bloody pink lump on the carpet. Not so much lying as wriggling, kicking these tiny little legs. Our baby.

	I turn and I look at Dennis. His eyes are shining, ablaze with love and his lips are quivering, like he wants to say something but can't quite find the words. 

	Finally, he manages "I'll go, er.. find some scissors shall I?" And he kisses me quickly. "I'll be right back." I hope I manage to hold myself up now that he's not behind me. I get the feeling, if I wasn't so mezmerized by this little person in front of me, that I would have fallen back and slept for an age.

	All I see is the little pink gums as the baby bawls, eyes scrunched up almost in fury. "Oh-oh-oh!" I tease. "You decided to come out y'know! This... This has been a long time coming this, hasn't it? Hello there honey.... I'm... I'm your..."

	"Can I?"

	Dennis strides back into the room, dropping a towel onto the floor and stooping above the baby, gazing at me, a pair of scissors looped over his fingers.

	I nod, and he crouches down, snipping through the cord that has bound this child to me and me alone for so long. He gasps lovingly as he begins to wrap the towel around the baby, siphoning away the blood as he does so, lifting them into his arms.

	There it is again, them. Not anymore.

	"Wha- What is it?"

	"It's our baby." he whispers shakily, and I swear I hear his voice crack. "Our beautiful, beautiful baby."

	"Beautiful maybe, but what is it?"

	He looks at me, this tiny little hand curled around his finger. "You didn't look?"

	I stare at the floor. How am I meant to tell him "No" because I'm petrified he's holding a son in his arms?

	But he smiles, edging towards me on his knees, this little bundle coming closer and closer. "Say hello to our daughter darlin'."

	Daughter? I feel guilty as relief sweeps through me. "We... We have a daughter?"

	"Congratulations Mummy."

	Mummy. The word I'd never thought I'd hear, but instead have feared for as long as I knew that I finally would. I barely manage to raise a smile.

	"I... I don't know how to do this without you Dennis-"

	"Hey. I love you, Sharon, you got that? And that means you're never gonna be without me."

	"Well, what about her? What am I supposed to tell her?"

	It don't make no difference, escaping one last time
	It's easier to believe
	In this sweet madness, oh, this glorious sadness
	That brings me to my knees.

	I gesture to our daughter, nestling in his arms, and I realise that there are a different kind of tears sparkling in his eyes as he gulps back a sob. "Tell her... tell her that I love her more than.... tell her I'm sorry.... tell her I'm proud she's mine... that she's yours... tell her she's always be Daddy's little angel."

	I push tears away from my eyes. "Alright then." I answer weakly, taking his word on more than one point. "Angel...." It fits. It fits so well. Because he's right. That's what she is. Ours.

	 He nods, understanding as the tears slide down his cheeks, murmuring "I'm so sorry."

	But I ignore him, leaning over my baby. "Did you hear your Daddy darlin'?... You're his.... you're our little Angel." Taking her in my arms, Dennis' arms falling around me, I realise that she's calm, her eyes finally open, startingly blue. "Oh.... she's.... so beautiful-"

	"Mmm, she looks like you."

	"I think she's gonna have your eyes."

	"She'll break a few hearts eh?" he stated, taking in every flicker of her flirtatiously long eyelashes.

	"As long as one's not mine." I reply sadly, hardly daring to look at him, but he understands, pulling me close.

	"I never meant to hurt you Sharon.... you have to believe me. I... I only ever wanted to protect you-"

	"I do believe you. And I know... It's just.... look at her.... Angel Rickman.... she's mine and.... and she's yours.... she's everything we ever wanted and... it just feels like it's all been taken away anyway because you're not... she won't know... why do all this Dennis? Why marry me, give me a daughter.... give me everything... if you'll not be here to share in it all?"

	"There isn't an answer to that Sharon. I.... you and... and Angel...." He squeezes his eyes tight shut to stem the tears, and she grizzles as she realises Daddy's not looking at her anymore. "...You're both such important parts of me... I love you so so much... and I'm so proud of you-" He leans in and gently kisses Angel's crown. "Just look at what we did darlin', look at what we made! She's so perfect... and I'm so glad she has you because you're going to be such a wonderful mum... I always knew you would be.... and if I could, I'd go to everyone I could find, and say "That woman.... that beautiful woman over there with the baby... that's my wife and that's my daughter. Mine." They wouldn't care but I wouldn't have wanted her with anyone else Sharon... and soon she'll realise why too."

	"But... you didn't.... you didn't have to go and have a face-off with Johnny Allen, Dennis, you could be here, you could always be here!"

	"I told you... he threatened you and he threatened our baby with it.... could you be without her?"

	"No." I admit miserably. "But I need you too. You made me promises, promises you should have kept."

	Sighing, he lifts his arm from across my shoulders, cupping my face in his hands forcing me to look at him. "I promised I'd love you always, and I will."

	His lips capture mine for a moment, and he makes sure I feel the sincerity of his kiss. I answer it with a desperation he cannot miss. 

	"I... I promised you "forever". And I did mean it. I swear this wasn't the way it was meant to be, but our daughter Sharon, the baby you wanted so much, the baby I wanted to give you more than anything.... she's it. She's your forever."

	I want to try and fight him, but my mouth has run dry, my tongue sticking to the roof. So I sigh and accept it, leaning against his chest, feeling his arms around me, so warm and comforting when I have missed him so much. 	

	"She's not yours though is she? Because you don't have "forever" anymore. I thought she was gonna make everything right for us, everything was gonna be perfect-"

	"Hey, there's a little girl there, and she's part of us both... it is perfect..."

	In the arms of an angel, fly away from here
	From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
	You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
	You're in the arms of an angel, may you find some comfort here.
	
	"Couldn't even... darlin', I'm sorry.... I know how much you wanted a boy..."

	He nudges me, forcing me to look at him. Angel's kicking her little legs like crazy. Kinda saying "Excuse me Mum, but I am here!" Protesting no doubt. I glance apologetically into those heart-breaking eyes, a lump rising as I realise I really can see Dennis in her. I don't know how I'll cope with that.

	"Stop it. I wanted.... I want everything you are... and that's her. Angel. Our daughter. And maybe when she's at school she'll be able to remind you that it was me who decided what kind she'd be-"

	"What kind?"

	"Yeah, you know... Angel or Devil, Watts or Rickman- I think I came up good."

	I smile. God, I'm so tired, and so scared that I'll fall asleep and then it'll just be me and Angel, our precious little girl, all alone in the world... that he'll be gone. I can't sleep, I won't. I just want him to stay.

	As if she has crawled right into my head and seen all my fears lain out like a picture book, Angel begins to howl, scrunching her eyes tight shut, her mouth wide open, displaying those wonderfully pink gums, striking out with all her little wrinkled limbs as viciously as she can.

	I rock her, flinching as the thunder and lightning break out overhead, the rain beating that little bit harder, not wanting us to forget.

	"Oh baby, what's wrong?" Dennis cooes, stroking her tiny crimson cheeks with a fingernail.

	Of course, he's waiting for me to answer, but it takes a moment. Because I'm in pieces. He's being so gentle and tender with her, he's being perfect. The perfect father, just like I knew he would be. And our little girl had all that love stolen away from her before she even drew breath. How can life be so cruel? She's helpless, she's innocent, what did she do to deserve this?

	"I... I think she's scared... o-of the storm-"

	Gazing at him anxiously out of the corner of my eye, I see he's looking back at me doubtfully, his shoulders tensed in that way they always were when he wasn't prepared to believe whatever I happened to be telling him. I feel myself flush guiltily.

	"She's a Rickman, she's not scared of anything."

	I laugh bitterly, wiping more tears from my eyes, trying to sniff a fresh wave back. Lifting my hand so he can't help but catch sight of my wedding ring, I stare at him, my lips quivering as I push the words out.

	"Really? Because I'm a Rickman, and I'm not just scared. I'm petrified. I've never been so afraid of anything in all my life!"

	"Sharon, I didn't mean-"

	"Where are you gonna be huh? Sat on a cloud watching me do the night feeds? Where will you be when she cuts her first tooth? When she says "Dada", when she starts to walk? Tell me where you'll be. Tell her."  

	"You know where I'll be Sharon!" he says shakily. Oh God, I've made him cry. "I'll be stood over her cot, I'll be singing her back to sleep, I'll be stood in the kitchen thinking how you must be the only woman... the only mother who can look as incredible as you do at three in the morning.... and I'll be cursing myself that I can't take her out your arms... kiss you and tell you to go back to bed... that I can't say I'll look after her, cos all I can do is watch her! She's all I ever wanted for you, so don't you dare make out like you don't know where I'll be!"

	"I'm sorry..." I manage finally after several seconds laborious and tense silence. I've begun to shake, unnerved by the force of emotion in his voice. Staring into his eyes, and the poor darling looks tortured, biting down on his lip and trying to tear his gaze away. "I'm sorry..."  Hurriedly I lay our daughter down on the floor and turn back, cupping his face fiercely between my drenched palms. I'm feeling the warm salty tears pulse down his cheeks and further wet my skin. "...but it's so so hard. I'll look at her... and I'll see you... everytime I look at her, I'm gonna be fallin' in love all over again and then... I'll remember.... I'll remember everything... and I-" I lean in, kissing his unresponsive lips again and again, desperate to have him close, to have him know I love him. "I miss you... I miss you so much. I need you and I'm gonna have to stop... I don't know how... I don't even know.... will... will I ever see you again?" 

	"You don't need to see me to know I'm there." he says simply, jiggling his finger and pumping Angel's tiny hand with it, making her gurgle, her tears drying instantly against her skin. The most blistering smile breaks out across his face at the sound, and my heart breaks and leaps simultaneously. Because this can't be real, not for our daughter. Not for Daddy's little Angel.

	"I can't stand this." I sniff, hating that I can't keep it together in front of him. "I want her to know her daddy Dennis- there's only so much I can do, what if I forget?"

	"Don't talk like that." he demands, lifting Angel and safely delivering her back into my arms. "I know you won't forget. Just.... if she ever tells you she sees someone in her room.... tell her it's me yeah? Let her know that it's Daddy come to say goodnight... tell her that's what I've done every night since she was born. Tell her Daddy was here with her when she was-" And he pauses, sounding dumbfounded as he echoes. "Daddy..."

	Something in his voice tells me how affected he is, and I reach out to brush his cheek. "Dennis?"

	He wipes his eyes hastily with the back of his sleeve, sniffing and trying to smile. "Oh Jesus... all the things I coulda done with her-"

	"You'll do them." I tell him, sliding my fingers through his limp hand. "I swear you will. If you'll just... watch her.... be there for her... "

	"I'll be there for you too."

	"Good. So maybe when you're saying goodnight to her.... you could give... give her messages for me? Just so I know that...?"

	He laughs weakly, and as I avert my watery eyes, he tilts my chin, planting a kiss on my forehead. "Alright."

	Angel and I nestle into his arms once more, he strokes her fine hair, pretending to whisper as he says "Tell Mummy I love her, Angel. Tell her I'll always love her."

	We can't help but laugh as she gurgles. She's looking right at Dennis, the same cheeky glimmer in her eyes that made me fall so deep in love with her daddy in the first place. I really do believe she can see him, just as I can.

	"Thank you." he breathes, gently tucking strands of my hair behind my ear. 

	"What for?" But I don't need to ask. I look down at my daughter and the love swells in my chest. I realise... he truly has given me everything... everything I thought I'd never have.

	"Thank you for everything. For loving me enough to give me my beautiful little girl...." And he lifts my hand, brushing his lips against my wedding band. "...my beautiful wife..."

	You're in the arms of an angel, may you find some comfort here.