Spring's Late Tide Was Never Yours

Chuck came to pick me up from the hospital on the day I was discharged. He opened the car door and placed his hand on my back tenderly with consideration. However, I remained silent after getting into the car. When we arrived at our home, he got out of the car to move my luggage.

When I entered the living room, I noticed a brown medical kit on the table and a beige wool scarf hanging on the armrest of the sofa, which did not belong to me. Next to the television was the memorial portrait of Chuck's older brother, Calvin.

I stood at the door without moving, and Chuck paused while changing into his slippers behind me. "Sandi hasn't been in a great state the past two days, and it isn't safe for her to be alone at night, as she's terrified when she's alone. I got her to stay with us for a few days until her condition stabilizes."

All I did was head toward the bedroom without saying anything.

When I pushed our bedroom door open, I saw Sandi arranging pill bottles next to my bed. She was wearing my house slippers, and she stood up right away when she saw me walk in. "You're home, Nicole."

Her voice lowered. "I'm just afraid of the dark and can't handle it being alone. Chuck let me stay here for a couple of nights until I'm feeling well enough to move back. Don't worry, I won't give you any trouble."

I stared at the slippers she was wearing. They were slippers with soft padding that I had been using since I got pregnant. Chuck had spent a lot of time with me picking them out. I turned to look at Chuck, "Is she staying in our bedroom?"

Chuck leaned against the door with a hesitant look on his face. "Sandi suffered from convulsions at night and was found after she fell onto the floor. Our bedroom is the closest to the living room, and it would be easier to get to her if anything happened. You can stay inside the study for now. I've already got the bed ready for you there."

It felt like everything I wanted to say was stuck in my throat. I wanted to question everything he did, but found that I could not say a word. It was not that I did not dare to speak out, it was just that I suddenly realized that my status in this home could be changed at any time.

While we were having dinner, Sandi took care of Chuck as she poured him a bowl of soup. When she looked up and saw me, she quickly lowered her head. "I know you were just discharged from the hospital, Nicole, and I shouldn't be imposing on you this way, but Chuck is Calvin's only brother, and I don't have anyone there for me except for him."

Chuck filled my plate with food. "Things aren't easy for Sandi, Nicole. You should focus on taking care of yourself while I handle everything else. I promise you won't feel any change in our lives."

All I did was look down at my dinner plate.

After dinner, I went to the baby's room. I knew something was not right when I pushed the door open. The storage basket with the baby's clothes and hats by the window was gone and replaced with a wooden easel and a few bottles of paint. A card was hanging on the easel with the words 'Emotional healing by painting to relieve stress'.

I stared at the easel from the door, and the words that were stuck in my throat finally found their release. I turned to see Chuck standing in the corridor, and he said, "Sandi's therapist suggested that she relieve stress through painting, and since there aren't any other rooms in the house…"

That was when I stopped him. "This is the baby room."

Chuck was silent for several seconds. "I've packed up all the baby's things, Nicole. I didn't throw them out. Please stay calm. You haven't fully recovered yet. I'll move everything back once Sandi is well enough to go home."

I suddenly lost the strength to argue. All I wanted to know was where the baby things had been stored.

When midnight came, I pushed the doors to the store room open, but I could not find the baby's cot or the bottle sterilizer in there. Even the baby clothes I had folded had disappeared, and the only thing left was a label on the bottom of the cardboard box.

A domestic helper followed me from behind, "Mrs. Gorman, all of those things, they were… Old Mrs. Gorman said leaving those things behind will only bring sadness, and she had them donated to charity under Miss Lemming's name."

I bent over to pick up the label, which had the month and the baby's due date written on it. I stared at it for a long time before folding up the paper and clutching it in my hand.

Even the baby's existence was not allowed in the house and had to be erased.

I closed the door to the storeroom and locked it with a very soft click. Following that click, something in my heart was locked up as well.