Chapter 67: The Empty Nursery

The nursery was discovered by accident.

Scarlett was overseeing renovations at the lake house when a contractor opened a locked room at the end of the east hallway. Dust floated in the sunlight. Old sheets covered furniture. A faded mobile hung above a carved wooden crib.

Scarlett stopped in the doorway.

Her mother had prepared this room years ago, not for Scarlett, but for the child Isabella had hoped to have before everything fell apart.

A younger sibling who never existed.

The room should not have hurt. But it did.

That evening, Scarlett sat on the porch while the lake darkened. Alexander found her with the nursery key in her hand.

'Do you want it closed again?' he asked.

Scarlett shook her head. 'No. I just did not expect it.'

He sat beside her.

For a long while, neither spoke.

'Do you want children?' Scarlett asked eventually.

Alexander became very still.

'With you, yes. But only if you want them.'

She looked at the lake. 'I used to imagine them before the accident. Then after, everyone treated my body like a tragedy, and I stopped imagining anything beyond survival.'

'Your body is not a tragedy.'

'I know.' She smiled faintly. 'Most days.'

Alexander took her hand. 'There are many ways to build a family.'

Scarlett leaned into him. 'I am afraid.'

'Of pregnancy?'

'Of wanting something again. Wanting makes loss possible.'

His thumb moved gently over her wedding ring. 'Yes.'

'That is not comforting.'

'No. But it is honest.'

Weeks passed before Scarlett returned to the nursery. When she did, she opened the curtains and let sunlight in.

She did not decide everything that day. She only decided the room would not remain a shrine to fear.

They painted it soft cream. They kept the old wooden crib but moved it into storage until the future had a clearer name. Scarlett placed white roses on the windowsill.

Later, Alexander stood beside her in the doorway.

'Whatever happens,' he said, 'this house is already full.'

Scarlett rested her head against his arm.

'I know,' she whispered.

But for the first time, she allowed herself to wonder what a child's laughter might sound like beside the lake.