Chapter Text
1997
LUCY
I thought we were going to be happy.
That was the plan. I was going to marry the man that I loved, we would start a family together and we’d live happily ever after.
Davy and I didn’t get married, which is another reason why I can never tell my family the truth. My parents aren’t very traditional, but my grandparents will condemn me for having a child as an unmarried woman. But we got a child, so we did start a family.
I want to believe that Davy loves me (loves us), but he’s barely home. He doesn’t notice that I’m growing weaker and weaker.
(I don’t think he cares.)
All he cares about is Simon’s supposed destiny. I care about Simon’s happiness. Yes, our son is the Chosen One, but he’s still a child. I know that Simon is powerful. Powerful mages exude their magic. You can feel it when you’re around them. I know that my magic can be felt by others, but Simon’s magic is everywhere and he’s a new born baby. It makes Davy very happy.
“We’ve succeeded!” he keeps saying. Did we?
Davy still comes home every evening. He still kisses me on the forehead before we go to bed. He still exists in my life, but I expected things to be different. I wanted a family, not a man who is gone for most of the day. I wanted a son, not a weapon for us to cherish until it’s time for him to explode.
What will happen when Simon eventually explodes? There’s no way that he can keep all that magic inside.
I tried asking Davy once, and he just laughed it off. My concerns were unnecessary. Simon was born for this life, but I don’t want this life for him. Davy disagrees. He loves Simon, or better yet, he loves what Simon stands for: his revolution. His prophecy. Davy believes wholeheartedly in the Chosen One prophecy.
I am starting to have my doubts, but I don’t know how to tell Davy.
He’s growing angrier. He snaps at me when I don’t want to talk about his reforms. He can’t believe that I am so stupid, because how can I not see that Simon is more than just any child? I fought with him when he tried casting experimental spells on Simon to test Simon’s limits. He’s just a baby, but Davy thinks it’s important and he dismisses my concern.
“Can’t you see that this is bigger than us?” he keeps saying.
We’re not living happily ever after ever. We’re not living happily. Period.
Simon’s three months old when I snap. I can’t do this anymore. I pack a bag. I grab my wand. I take Simon. I run.