Page 32 of Only ever you-Ana & Byron (Blindsided #2)

A few years later

Byron watched the little wild-haired boy dart ahead, all chubby limbs, questions and untied shoelaces. It could only end in one way, and it did with him losing his balance and sliding on the wet grass before coming to a stop, his arms and legs splayed and a cheeky smile on his face.

His hair glowed auburn under the pale sun, wind tousling it like a flame. Tall for four, Deaglán had his grandmother's colouring and Byron's hazel eyes which were wide and always wondering.

"Daddy, did you see how I fell-ed... did you see daddy?" he shrieked.

"Yes, you did. And you did it on purpose, mate."

He giggled, just lay there as Byron tickled him. He loved being tickled and did nothing to defend himself.

"Daddy," the boy said finally, gripping Byron's fingers. "Do you think Ma's sad? "

Byron looked down at the sun glinting in his bright hair. "No... Yes... maybe a little."

"Why can't we be with her?"

"Well, sometimes you can't be with people you want to be. Just like you like pumpkin pie with whipped cream but..." he ruffled the boy's hair, "...you have to wait for the pumpkins to get sweet."

Deaglán considered this very seriously. "Why?

Byron considered what to say, "I think God just likes some of his kids better than others. And he wants to keep them close. Like I like to hug you all the time. "

Byron exhaled slowly, feeling that familiar twinge in his heart.

"Do you think he loves Ma?" Deaglán asked after a few seconds of digesting that, head tilted away from the sun.

"Yes," Byron said quietly. "He loves your Ma extra, extra special."

"Will he keep Ma with him forever under the tree? Or will she come play catch with me?"

Byron squinted toward the hill, where the sky met the field in a slow embrace.

A large tree spread out on the crest, roots gnarled and half-exposed, tangled into the earth like old stories.

It stood alone like a sentinel angel. Around its base, soft white wildflowers danced-wood anemones, the kind Ana had once said reminded her of starlight.

Byron had planted them specially for her.

"She'll come," Byron said finally. "When she's ready."

Deaglán followed his gaze. "Is Ma up there?"

Byron nodded once. "Yea"

The boy's eyes lit up. "Can we go see the surprise under the tree?"

"Soon, lad. Soon. The time has to be perfect."

But patience wasn't his strongest trait. Deaglán let out a sigh shaped like the wind. "I wanna play catch!"

So, Byron scooped up a nearby stick and turned it into a game. "Go long!"

Laughter echoed across the field as they played. The chill lingered beneath the sunlight, autumn pressing its cool fingers into the bones of the day.

Then a voice called out, soft and carrying in the chilly breeze like a dream. "Dea!"

They both turned.

A woman walked down from the hill, her white sundress catching the light, a denim shirt knotted loosely at the waist. Her arms swung, and there was colour in her cheeks. Her dark hair now sprinkled with silver here and there, was pulled back, strands blowing loose in the breeze.

"Moooom!" Deaglán shouted, already running. "You came down! You came down!"

Byron watched, breath caught, as it always did when he looked at his wife.

Ana knelt, catching the boy in a warm embrace. Her eyes met Byron's over the tousled head, and something passed between them, tender and unspoken.

He joined them, wrapping his arms around both.

Deaglán wriggled excitedly. "Can I have the surprise now?"

Ana smiled. "Come on, then. Let's go see."

They walked hand in hand up the hill. The plaque beneath the tree gleamed in the sunlight, half-hidden by wildflowers and the daisy chain Ana had woven with Deaglán's help.

***

To our beloved son, Conley.

A spark that lit our lives.

Forever in bloom. Forever in our hearts.

** *

Ana bent beside the plaque, her fingers grazing the cool metal. "Before we had you," she said softly, "we had another little baby boy in Mummy's belly. His name was Conley."

Deaglán stared, blinking. "Where is he?"

"He couldn't stay. But we love him just the same."

"Was he nice?"

Ana's voice caught. "He was. And he would've loved you so, so much."

"But why'd he go?"

"He had a quest," she said, with a wobbly smile tugging through her sadness. "Lots of fun adventures he had to go on. But I think we'll meet him again someday."

Deaglán's brow furrowed. Then his eyes drifted to Ana's belly. "What about the baby in your belly? Will she stay and play with me?"

"I'm sure she will," Byron said, kneeling beside him. "But she can already hear you. You have to tell her stories and sing to her, so she won't be scared. So, she knows your voice."

Deaglán's face lit up with the seriousness of the task. "Okay. I can do that." He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a chain of crushed daisies. "Ma! Daddy and I made a daisy chain for ya. Lookie!"

Ana took it with careful fingers, eyes shining. She pressed a kiss to his cheek.

They stood together a moment longer, hands brushing against the plaque, tied together by memory and hope.

Then they turned and walked down the hill towards their farmhouse, hand in hand, toward the future.

As they walked, Deaglán’s little legs half-skipping to keep up, he craned his head back to look at Ana again.

“So, Ma,” he began, all wide-eyed curiosity, “how did the baby get into your belly? Did you eat it? And then it grow-ed like a tree inside? ”

Ana choked on a laugh. Byron bit down on his cheek to keep a straight face.

“Not quite like a tree,” Ana said diplomatically, exchanging a helpless glance with Byron.

Deaglán was undeterred. “But how does the baby come out? Do you sneeze really hard? Like that bogey came out of my nose when I did an Achoo?”

Byron finally lost the battle and snorted.

Ana groaned. “Sweetheart, can we save this particular chat for when you’re at least... eight?”

“I am nearly five,” Deaglán huffed, clearly offended.

Byron leaned down, ruffling his hair. “And that’s exactly why your job is to stick to singing songs and telling stories, yeah?”

Deaglán considered this. “Fine. But I’m still gonna ask Uncle Gray. He knows everything.”

Ana muttered under her breath, “Oh, fantastic.”

And with that, they disappeared down the hill, the sun dipping low behind them, hands tangled, laughter echoing through the breeze, and questions still flying.

Peace settled behind them like a soothing baby blanket.

***