Finding Emma by Steena Holmes

see her yet come home empty handed, my heart breaks all over again. Except, it was never whole to begin with. I don't want to accept that she's gone forever, but I don't know what else to do. We have two other children who need us, Meg. There won't be anything left for them if my heart keeps breaking.”
    Megan grabbed onto the trim of the door, an anchor to her trembling body. She turned to find Peter behind her. He reached his arms out but she stepped to the side. His hand brushed against her arm. She walked to the fireplace and grabbed hold of a picture on the mantle.
    “It's because of our other children that I won't give up on Emma. If I let her go, I let her down. You talk of broken promises, Peter. But I'm not the only one who’s broken them. What of the one we made to our girls? That they would always be safe? Oh, wait. You blame me for that one too.”
    Megan held on to that picture, her fingers white from the grip. A family picture when they were whole, complete. Now they were only broken, splintered into pieces that were forever lost. Megan didn't know how to fix it. Peter was supposed to be the key, the glue that held them all together while she held onto the hope of her daughter's return.
    Megan's throat constricted as she tried to swallow her anger. It took a few tries before she could speak without spewing the anger that consumed her being.
    “I need you Peter. I need you to believe in me, to believe in Emma. Everything that I have done has been for her. You asked me earlier if I was having a relapse. Trying to find our daughter is the only thing keeping me sane. The only thing. But I can't do this alone. You talk of your heart breaking, but have you ever thought of what I go through? Do you think I enjoy the agony? I literally die inside every time, Peter. Without Emma, I'm nothing. Nothing.”
    Sobs ripped through Megan's body as she crumbled to the floor. The picture frame tumbled out of her hand. Megan grabbed for the frame but missed. It smacked into the fireplace, the glass shattered from the impact.
    She stared at the splintered glass, at the jagged lines that ripped across the surface. It's how their family lived now, cracked at the core. She picked up the frame. She could replace the glass and no one would ever know. There was no easy fix for her family though. No way to ever hide the damage.
    She looked up but found she was alone. Megan struggled to walk the distance to the couch. The steady cadence of the clock filled the silence. She pulled an afghan across her body and curled into a ball underneath it. She watched the empty doorway, praying Peter would come back. He couldn't have left. Not like this. Their marriage stood on shaky ground, but was a landslide inevitable? She couldn't believe that this would be the catalyst.
    She leaned her head against the couch, her eyes closed. This could be the end of their marriage. Even at the thought, no tears came. There was nothing left within her to grieve. Maybe it would hit her tomorrow when she woke up alone in their bed.
    Minutes passed as she sat there, her mind numb. She should move, but her body betrayed her with its lethargic response. So she waited. Waited for the numbness to take over.
    A slight pressure of a hand on her shoulder forced her to open her eyes. Peter came back. He stood before her, tears flowing down his face as he held a book in his hand. She glanced up at the book, puzzled.
    “I do care,” Peter whispered as he laid the book in her lap. He bent down, placed a tender kiss on her forehead before he left her alone, again. Confused, Megan held the book in her hands, turned it over, unsure of what it meant.
    The book itself was plain. No writing covered the front or spin of the book. She opened it and her hand shook. Peter's handwriting covered the front page.
    To my darling Emma. Not a day goes past without you in my thoughts. My baby. My princess. My dream is to one day hand this journal to you and explain to you the words I have