AllFreeNovel
Share Us
NOW, FALL
Today my grief hits me like a freight train.
Sometimes I have mornings where Hayden isn’t at the forefront of my mind and memories. Other mornings it's the only thing I can feel, taste, hear, breath—his absence. It's almost like a tangible thing, which is strange and doesn’t make sense because how can someone’s absence create a tangible feeling? It’s like it sits as a heavy presence in every room I walk in. It trails behind me and walks beside me as I go throughout my day. I don’t understand how an emptiness can feel so substantial. So strong.
I go through my morning routine, barely even paying attention to the makeup I apply or the cream I run through my dark curls. It isn’t until I’m sitting in the car and pulling out of my parking spot that my phone rings and breaks me out of my trance.
Who is calling this early?
My first thought is Madeline, but she would only call this early for an emergency. I grab my phone from my bag and pull it out to see a name I never thought I would see across my phone again.
Haven.
I freeze.
My mouth parts as I stare at the letters that make up the once very familiar and beloved name to me. One that I don’t say anymore. Belonging to someone I don’t speak to anymore.
Numbly, I press the little green circle to answer the call.
“Hello?” I whisper.
“Ana?” Her voice tugs at all the dormant parts of my heart, a heart that is now sputtering then faltering in an effort to feel those distant feelings of warmth and joy.
I let a few moments pass before summoning enough courage to whisper, “Haven?”
“Hi,” she says, timidly. Unsure. “How are you?”
Terrible, I think. “Okay,” I breathe. “How are you?”
Silence. I pull my phone back to make sure that the call is still active, it is. She finally answers, “Okay.”
“Can we agree that ‘okay’ is code for ‘barely keeping it together?” I ask and I hear her chuckle mixed with a sniffle.
“Yes. Yes we can.” Her voice cracks. “I’m sorry to call so early, and I’m also sorry that I haven’t kept in touch. We all are sorry about not keeping in touch,” she says, her voice still soft. “Mom is really sorry too.”
“It’s okay.”
“No it’s not, Ana,” she says, firmly while still barely above a whisper. “You lost him too. You were our family, and you lost him just as much as we did, more so in some ways. And she never should have—” she stops abruptly.
I look up as if to tilt my tears back into my head. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.
Haven continues, “He was my brother, and that loss was—is unimaginable. But…he was your…he was…you were his…” she tries to explain before I hear the tears take hold of her voice. I reach my hand up to cover my eyes, not having the strength to hold them back anymore. I let out a small sob and I know there is no recovering from this moment.
“I’m just so sorry we lost touch…it’s so unfair. But Mom and Dad are barely making it through the days and we just kind of succumbed to the grief over the last few months. It doesn’t feel like a year has passed. It still feels like it was yesterday.”
I nod, as if she can see me, choking down a sob. “I know,” I manage to croak out.
“I just wanted to tell you,” she continues, her voice shaking as I know she is speaking through her unrelenting emotions and tears.
A small cry escapes my lips as I say, “Thank you Haven. I can only imagine the pain you are all feeling each day. I’m so sorry.”
“Stop,” she says. “You’re feeling that same pain too. If anyone understands, it’s you.”
I nod again, maybe reassuring myself. “I miss you all,” I say and I hear her sniffle again.
“We miss you too, we really do. Come over sometime, seriously. There are some things we want to give you and we’d love to talk to you,” she says, and I can almost picture her soft smile lighting up her beautiful face.
“I will,” I lie.
