I shared them.
They weren’t mine, even if I was theirs.
“Loss isn’t exactly explainable, Reav. You can easily say it hurts, but explaining how deep that hurt goes doesn’t compute to those who haven’t experienced it.” He handed me back my joint and leaned on the balcony next to me. “Some people can lose their loved ones and not bat an eye. They can move forward as if no loss occurred.”
I took a deep drag, wishing for peace. My parents’ faces hit my mind, reminding me how truly raw it was to think of them. “People like us experience pain on a deeper level. We don’t move forward because our internal clocks stopped ticking with the ones who left us. We don’t get peace and happiness; we get pain and hardship.”
When I was younger, my mom and Cars taught me about the importance of crying, experiencing sorrow, and going through your emotions whenever they came. Bottling it up did nothing for you. Even if you bled later on when alone in a room as the discomfort ate away at your flesh. The ache still existed.
It, just temporarily, was numbed out.
Right now, as the deepest of my wounds were reopened, I didn’t cry. Because since the night they died, I hadn’t shed a single tear.
Cars and Mom might have been right, but fuck if I give in to the hollowness I’ve felt in me since Andy cried in my arms.
I was fucked.
“It’s okay to feel the pain,” Memphis explained. My throat tightened, and for the first time in five years, I felt close to tears.
Everything with the songs and bringing Andy back into my life hit me so hard. “Fuck,” I hissed. Gripping my chest, I massaged it, hoping the action would be enough to ease away missing them.
“It’s okay,” Memphis reassured, clasping my shoulders. “Let it out, man.”
I closed my eyes, letting the wave of despair wash over me. My mind traveled to Mom, to when she was home in between tours.
“What do you want for dinner?”
“Anything but broccoli,” I joked. Partially, I meant it. Broccoli was gross unless Grandma made it. She seasoned it correctly, whereas Mom tended to just steam it, hoping it’d flavor itself.
Mom chuckled, the sound musical in itself. Her smile reminded me of sunshine, the way you felt after swimming in the pool all day and then sitting in the sun afterward.
“No broccoli. Noted.”
I hugged her and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Mom. But your food kind of lacks flavor.” She barked out a laugh, it was nearly a snort.
“Always the honest one.”
With a lot of love in her expression, she hugged me back before ordering pizza. Mom didn’t know what to do with herself when Dad was in rehab, but she spent most of her free time with me.
“Why does it hurt so badly?” I croaked. The achy feeling in my throat and chest only worsened as he shook his head sadly.
“Because they meant a lot to you, they were your parents regardless of all the other bullshit.”
Tears, hot and heavy, poured down my cheeks, burning me like a match. I sucked in a deep breath before the wetness multiplied. My body jerked as it attempted to truly cry. It quaked as I held in the majority of the suffering, only little spurts of it with every exhale.
“Why were they so selfish?” It was rhetorical. It wasn’t meant to be answered, but Memphis did anyway.
“Some people think what they’re doing is the best for the ones they love, even if rooted in selfishness. They don’t intentionally seek to hurt with their choices, but when they do, it hurts those around them more.”
“I’ve never wanted to die so much in my life.” I dropped the joint, squishing the remnants under my boot. “I’d give anything for a moment more. I’d die if it meant reuniting with them.”
“They’d want you to thrive,” he argued, reminding me so much of Carson.
“I’d rather die than breathe through this anguish.”
He nodded, the understanding written in the stress wrinkles on his face reminding me of myself. His child died and my parents died. Somehow, we were half of the person we once were.
“I’ve got to get a drink or something,” I muttered, wanting to erase this moment between us.
“Tally’s or Get Fucked?”
“Wherever the paps won’t be,” I grumbled. Being as the death anniversary was only a few days ago, they’d still be crowding us for interviews. They were vultures.
“We can do The Underground on Fifth?”
I thought of the bar, thinking of Andy and how she used to go there to dance when we were teenagers. Something about being close to her while she pretended she didn’t want me felt right.
“Let’s go there. I’ll call Royce.”
“I’ll tell the others.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Some Will Seek Forgiveness, Others Escape – Underoath
Andy
“You don’t want to go to dinner?” Brandon questioned, his voice full of disbelief. “We always go to dinner on Fridays.”
“I’m sorry, Leslie invited me to go to The Underground for her birthday. Last girls’ night, I didn’t go, and she begged me to go as her gift.” I felt bad when Les brought it up. She said I’d been choosing Brandon over the girls too often. What was I supposed to say, sorry, he likes being at home? It might be true, but one thing about healthy relationships was spending time with friends too.
It was imperative to have outside time from the relationship, so there were healthy boundaries. Brandon and I didn’t have those.
“It’s okay,” he said, sounding disappointed. What did he want from me, to revolve my life around his? I knew he’d be sporting the crease on his forehead and the guilt-trip eyes if we were in person and not on the phone.
“I’m sorry, babe. I’ll call you after,” I appeased, hoping he’d be okay.
“Sure thing.” It came out as a grumble, and he hung up without saying he loved me. Sometimes, I wondered if Brandon was right for me, not even with what Madden and I did behind his back. What if I put on rose-colored glasses because I was adamant about moving forward after Dox died?
Leslie Williams was my best friend, and she always stood by my side. She hated Brandon and made it known. Turning a blind eye to his small isolating things was easy, but it got harder when he forced me away from my favorite people.
It started out small.
Begging me to stay in and watch a movie, then going on a trip instead of visiting the girls for the holidays. Then it became who is Carson and why are you talking to him?
I overlooked many things, but the more time spent away from the office and my fiancé, the more I realized he kept me fairly sheltered.
Stuck on overanalyzing everything, I mindlessly ambled into my bedroom. After going through all the dresses, my eyes halted on my favorite one. It was nearly black with how dark of a green it was. It had a slit on both sides and I usually paired it with a chain garter charm so it looked like a metal thigh piece. Powerful. That was how it made me feel to rock this outfit. This dress showed my hip and thigh tattoos, giving everything away. Unlike Madden, my entire body wasn’t covered in them. It saddened me that our time spent together wasn’t spent seeing him entirely. Shirtless Madden was all I got, but I wanted full lighting next time. What we did felt cheapened by my greediness. I hated it.