can you ever forgive me? | one-shot

[Deleted]

Sav I'm sorry.
Ana had never thought about children until she had two. She had not been the type to preen and prepare, to drape a pillowcase over her short brown hair and pretend to walk down an aisle. She hadn't even imagined herself settled down in love, or even married. Ana treated love and affection like a game of football, with a beginning, a game time, and an end. With the allowance of over time when necessary. She had not factored in the possibility of Sav. So central to her life when things begun to fall apart that she'd quite impossibly fallen in love with him, but that hadn't really been the problem. Ana had taken the truth of that quite well, she reckoned. The pregnancy was different. She only just made room for a stable relationship only to discover that she had to make room for a child, as well. Not a single child, but two. The fear was supposed to be normal, all the books predicted it. Ana bided her time, maybe she'd feel less afraid when she saw them. Every mother she had spoken to had said the same thing, that she'd look at her children and that would be all it took to readjust her priorities. To affirm her new identity.

Sav please forgive me.

Ana had always been good at strategy. She'd always been able to look at a problem and find a solution, no matter how many turns on the pitch it might take to get there. It wasn't so simple with children. Everybody was so pleased for them both when they found out, but Ana was reluctant to tell many. They were too young. It was unplanned. They would be judged. The excuses came to her and made nests in her belly. On the flip side, Sav took everything in stride. At one point, Ana had envied that ability. When they were a couple of teenage Quidditch players on a pitch, vying for the win. She still envied him in this, but it was different. Sometimes, when he was filled with an undeniable joy at the prospect of being a father, Ana would trick herself in to thinking she felt the same way. As time progressed and the children grew inside of her, Ana realised the joy she thought she shared was happiness for Sav, not herself.

Sav I'd be a terrible mother. 

The children were born at the very end of Spring. Oliver and Minerva, two pickled little faces that Ana stared at and stared at. Peering over the edge of their little cot and wondering whose children they were. She couldn't have possibly made them. How little they looked like her, when everybody who visited insisted the boy had her nose and the girl her upturned mouth. Ana held them tightly, pressing them to her skin as she tried in vain to recognise them both. Everybody commented on how doting she was, that she simply couldn't take her eyes off of them. Ana felt like telling them that she was only doing so to try and force herself to feel as she should. It didn't work. She was devastated. They came home to Sav and Ana's flat a couple of days later. The rooms all changed to fit two children. Sav had been terribly good at preparing. Mothers were supposed to nest, Ana had spent most of her pregnant holed up in her room, complaining of nausea. In reality, the feeling of impending doom insisted upon her. She spent days and weeks distracting herself by sending owls of applications for football training, and Quidditch bootcamps. Anything that didn't include motherhood. She felt terrible for doing so, but when the acceptance letters were returned it was with a crushing disappointment. She couldn't leave her children, that would be barbaric.

Sav you were wrong about me. 

Ana left three weeks later, with a trunk full of her things and a picture of the babies tucked inside of her sports duffel bag. An invitation to try out for the Swiss Capital League in Bulgaria giving her the perfect escape route. Pulling memories from her mind to pocket them away for later, lest the grief consume her when she left. A letter for Sav pinned to the fridge alongside that first ultrasound photo of the twins, where Ana had cried for hours afterwards. The corners curled where the salt from her tears had warped it. In some ways, Ana would never understand what she was sacrificing. The milestones she would miss, the responsibility she was leaving with Sav. He'd be better at it, she reasoned. She wasn't built for motherhood. It was a terrible, horrible thought, but it was enough to propel her in to motion.

Sav you're better at this. Give the babies a kiss from me, it's not their fault. It's not your fault. It's me. I'm bad at this.
Forgive me.
Love Ana. 

[Deleted]

Sav read the note that Ana left on the refrigerator of their apartment and he swore his heart stopped beating as his eyes skimmed the paper. The only thing that drew him back to earth was the soft cry of Oliver, waking up in his bassinet in the living room just adjacent to where he stood. He looked over at the child and then back down to note, reading it again to make sure he had read it right the first time. Ana was gone. Just like that. He didn’t even know she had been struggling. She hadn;t told him that she didn’t feel like she was good enough. Hell, he didn’t feel like he was good enough. But there he was: here. With two newborns half asleep in the next room and practice to get to this afternoon.

Sav bolted to the front door and threw it open. A part of him thought he’d open it and find Ana standing there, as if she hadn’t managed to leave yet, or maybe she had returned. But no one was there. He shook the thought away and closed the door, keeping the chilly morning air out of the apartment and away from Ollie and Minnie. He set the note down on the counter, but was pretty sure the image of it was engraved into his mind

Sav you're better at this

No he wasn’t. He hated that she felt like he was. He had been terrified when she told him that she was pregnant, let alone how afraid he had been when she found out they were twins and they made the decision to keep them. He had just graduated last year. He hadn’t even been out of school for a full year and he found himself faced with parenthood.

Give the babies a kiss from me, it's not their fault.

He bent down and swooped up his son, who was already awake whereas Minnie was still snoozing in the bassinet next to him. It wasn’t their fault, but he couldn’t imagine what they would start to think, if they could even think. Someone who had been their everything was gone. And someone who felt like he was constantly flying by the seat of his pants was left to tend them.

It's not your fault. It's me. I'm bad at this

In any other situation, Sav knew his anger would have gotten the better of him. He was always hot headed, especially when things didn’t go his way. But the small, warm, bundle on his chest had him under some sort of trance. No part of him felt angry, but every part of him felt lost. He wanted to cry. Savtaj MacMillian could not remember the last time he cried.

Forgive me.

He walked back over to the counter, flipped the note over, and grabbed the pen that she had probably used to write this, out of the junk drawer. Sav took a deep breath, looked down at his cooing child, and wrote the four words that he swore he would never use: Mom - I need you. he affixed the note to his owl and sent them on their way to Hogwarts.

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