Re: At the wake - Parry and Addi
Adelaide had been blessed to live a relatively peaceful life, enough that this past year had been a roller coaster on an epic scale. She'd had no tools with which to cope with everything that had happened last summer, and so she'd gone from one extreme to another, losing herself in Phillip, protected from dealing with anything. In some ways, he was everything she'd needed at that time of her life, and she would always treasure him for that. Getting pregnant by him had thrown her life back in chaos, and though it had also been a catalyst of sorts for her to realize she didn't see her romantic future as with him, she'd wanted nothing more than to raise their daughter together.
He would have been an amazing father.
He would never have the chance now, though, and it broke her heart in ways she'd never thought possible. She was a shell of her former self throughout the funeral, sitting in the wheelchair Blaise had set her in after apparating her in. Despite being on bed rest and the Healer advising she not come, she couldn't miss this, couldn't miss the opportunity to mourn with their family and friends and community members, to say good bye to the man that she did love, even if not in the way he'd wanted. He was and always would be the father of her child; how could she not be here? But she was taken precautions, working hard to stay as calm as possible so as not trigger her body back into early labor.
And later, at the wake, she'd let people take turns pushing her about in the chair, accepting the condolences and well wishes with as much grace as she could muster. The dress she wore was thick enough to at least hide the extent of how much weight she'd lost in the last week, another thing the Healer Blaise had called in from the continent to look after her was concerned about. But she couldn't help the fact that she didn't have an appetite. She was trying to eat regularly, mindful of how important it was for her growing daughter, but sometimes it simply took too much effort.
Because her daughter would never know her father.
The thought played in her head, coming and going as if with the rising and falling tide, and it had just struck her again when Parry came up to her. She offered him a small smile when he greeted her and tucked the bottle of water she was working her way through between her leg and the side of the chair. "Of course, as long as you don't mind coming down to me," she qualified with a bit of an apologetic expression.