Robb clicked on the headline and began reading. He was meant to be looking for weird demonic activity, but this one caught his eye, and he needed a freaking break. Matthew would still be looking for activity, and kudos to him for not stopping, but Robb just couldn’t take much more without a break.
He was reading about some stupid weird thing in Northamptonshire where apparently the sale of hamburgers; everything from McDonalds to those Rustler things in the supermarkets, have shot through the roof and they’re asking for more shipped there.
“… something here…”
Apparently people were eating this stuff at the speed of light…
Robb glanced up at his father in law with a blink and a shake of his head. “Sorry?”
“Are you even listening to me? I said we’ve got another bout of suspicious deaths, all the same… Robb?” Matthew asked when he looked down at the laptop again. “What’re you looking at?”
“Just some stupid ass story about the amount of burgers being consumed up North, nothing of importance. I just needed a break,” Robb admitted, sighing to himself. “I just… this just seems so… redundant. We’re not even going to follow any of this shit through, are we? We’re just looking and doing nothing. Isaac and Mia, they said the other day, what if it is the Devil, okay great, we’re right, but he won’t bring her back up here when he knows I’ll be after her. She might not even be the same Naomi we all know; she might have gone native or whatever. What then, Dad? What do we do then? It’ll all be for nothing. Maybe they’re right, maybe we should just face our grief and try and move on.”
Robb watched Matthew press something on the keyboard opposite and sigh deeply, glancing down at his hand and then back up at Robb.
“Well, then… I don’t know,” Matthew admitted. “She’s still my daughter, and she is still your wife, Robb. Her being down in Hell doesn’t change that. She’s still alive to me.”
“And she is to me!” Robb scoffed, offended. How could he think that his own wife was dead to him? That was not what he was trying to say, and Matthew knew that. “But what are we looking at, Matthew? Absolutely fuck all. Okay, a bunch of people died suspiciously, and yeah, it might be demons or the Devil or whatever, but Isaac and Mia are both right: he wouldn’t be as stupid as to bring Naomi back up here with him. After all, she could full well turn and run back here to us, or we could find her and take her. Hell, she might not even be Naomi. We’re just looking at stuff on the small, thin chance that it might be her. We need to face this sooner rather than later, because I for one cannot take any more of this. Naomi’s my wife, and she’s the damn love of my life, but I need to face the fact that she’s not coming back.”
“What if she does?” Matthew asked him.
“Well, then, if we’re not prepared for it, then the best could happen, couldn’t it? If we prepare for the worst, then it’ll be better should it ever happen,” Robb shrugged. It wasn’t that he was being pessimistic, but what Isaac said to him the other day rang true. He also vowed to himself that he would get her back. What he was saying didn’t mean that he would give up looking, because there would be no way in Hell, Heaven or Earth that he would give up looking for signs, it just meant that he would face the fact that his wife was dead and in Hell and that she probably won’t be coming back.
“Then in that case, what do you suggest we do, Robb? Because I cannot just leave my daughter down there any longer,” Matthew said, folding his arms.
Robb looked from his father in law back to the screen where he had that stupid article up. He sighed again and closed the tab down, leaving up a Google search for suspicious deaths around England and he stared at it for a minute, confused. He thought about what Mia told him about Naomi making her promise to look after Robb, make sure he healed, moved on if he could and was constantly on the straight and narrow. She didn’t want him to look for her, or look for ways to bring her back or kill himself or sell his own soul. He knew deep down why she didn’t want that to happen: because she wanted him to have the best chance of living. Her soul was Lucifer’s since she was a year old. She was never meant to have the life she did, and she was never going to be his. She never was Robb’s, truly, or at least, that’s what she believed to be true anyway. He knew the opposite was actually the truth, but she believed she was never his, and she believed that he didn’t want to hurt over it more than he should. She should have known he would do something like this, though, she should’ve known he would not be giving her up that easily, and she should have known he loved her too much to ever be over or able to move on.
But then he knew she was gone; she was dead up here, she was alive down there, doing Lucifer knows what. He didn’t want to know the truth, but she was alive down there. They buried her, they gave her a funeral. She was gone to Earth, she was just another dead body in the numbers. The police investigated, they had a post mortem and apparently it was merely sudden death syndrome. Something in her heart gave out and she died from a cardiac arrest. Nothing more, nothing less. He remembered looking at her completely still body in the morgue when they had to identify her. He hadn’t wanted to do it, but they wouldn’t let Isaac nor Mia do it, and Matthew couldn’t, so it was down to him as her husband. She had looked completely still, like she was sleeping, but she was as white as the sheet that covered her. They’d given him her jewellery and her rings, and they had to pick out clothes for her to buried in. Robb kept her rings, and he wore them constantly on a chain around his neck.
Robb got up from the chair, grabbed his laptop and stormed into his bedroom, unable to take any more of it. It was one thing for him to try and work this out, but it was another to take that much shit from Naomi’s Dad. He found this hard enough already, and he knew he had to do as Isaac said, but he also remembered the vow that he would get her back.
“How do you get on with your father in law, Robb?” the counsellor asked the next Monday afternoon. Robb suddenly looked up from his lap to the woman in shock. She’d never once asked about Naomi’s family spare about Naomi herself, and now the father in law talk? Jesus Christ.
“Uh… fine,” Robb said uneasily.
“You don’t sound too sure,” she said, cocking her head in interest.
“Well, I mean, he’s a good guy. Treats me like a son, I guess,” Robb shrugged. There was absolutely no way he was going into that relationship with her. No way. This shit was meant to be about him and Naomi and ‘how he was feeling’, not about that shit.
“You, again, do not sound so sure, Robb. Do you still see him, since Naomi left?” she asked.
“Yeah, now and again,” Robb nodded in response. What did this have to do with how he was feeling ‘since Naomi left the world’ as she put it. It had absolutely naff all to do with it, that’s what, but still, Robb needed to stay here. It was apparently for his own good.
“And what do you think of him, your Father in law?” she asked, continuing the bloody torture.
“Yeah, he’s a good guy. I mean, my best mates said something to me the other day, about trying to move on, and I’ve been thinking about it, you know, I should at least try. Nay… she… she wouldn’t…” Robb stopped speaking, the lump appearing back in his throat.
“She wouldn’t what, Robb?” the counsellor asked him and he looked back down into his lap, seeing the wedding ring sat on his finger. He thought of Naomi then, how she would find it hilarious that he was currently sat in the counsellor’s office, trying so hard not to cry over her. Ever since they began seeing each other over two years ago now, he remembered feeling as if nothing about her could hurt him, ever. They had never fought, until of course, the day she told him the truth about the damn Devil. Since that day, it hadn’t been her that hurt him, but the fact that he knew all along, deep down that not once, not even on their wedding day, had she been his. She was always Lucifer’s, and to him, that was the worst thing of it all. He had always thought it was fate that drew them together, but it wasn’t. Fate was her dying and going to Hell with Lucifer. It was just an incident that brought them together. Nothing more and nothing less.
“She wouldn’t have wanted me to carry on thinking about her or crying over her,” he finished, feeling a single tear rolling down his cheek; warm and staining his face. Not once had he cried. Not since she actually died and he was holding her. Now was the first time in two months that he’d actually physically cried. “She would want me to do what I’m trying to do and move on, except I won’t be able to. I have to try though, I have to stop wishing and looking for a way to bring her back, but I can’t. She’s my wife.” He remembered on his wedding day, he was sat in his room with Isaac, and he’d been staring at the ring he’d bought her. All he had done for about half an hour was cry and nothing Isaac did or said could stop it. Robb had just kept crying and telling him that Naomi would never be his, not even when she’d put the ring on her finger, not even when she changed her name and not even after the speeches. She was always Lucifer’s and nothing Robb or Isaac or Mia or Matthew or Naomi herself did would change that.
“Robb, Naomi was and always will be a part of your life, but at the end of the day, you and your friends are right; she is no longer with us. She died suddenly and tragically, and there was nothing you could have done about it,” the counsellor told him and in his mind, Robb scoffed. She had no idea about the truth. None at all. “When someone dies like that… sudden death syndrome, it is nobody’s fault and there was nothing that could have been done to stop it. You have to realise that there is no point looking back or trying to look for something. This is something you have to face, and it sounds to me like you have your friends to fall back on.”
Robb kept his eyes firmly planted on his lap, the only thing on his mind being the fact that there could have been something; if they had done something more, if Naomi had not given up, if he had been more vigilant or manly and faced the facts instead of hiding behind them.
But they didn’t, she didn’t and he didn’t, and now the one thing in his life that was good, the anchor he had had gone, and as much as he hated to admit it, the counsellor was right; it was something he had to face. And it was about time he did.