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“Ana, I need to start by saying that I am so sorry,” Marion whispers, her lip trembling. “What I said to you that day—” She chokes up. “What I said is unforgivable. It came from a broken place. It came from me trying to put the blame on something and someone that held no blame. It was me trying to understand something that can never be understood.”
I look at her and many painful seconds pass by. “Your words crushed me, when I was already breaking,” I whisper through gritted teeth. “I was the one who watched him die. I was the one who did CPR waiting for someone to come and help me, and I was the one who clung to his body and prayed and prayed he would wake up. I was there.”
They both start crying now.
“I watched the life leave his eyes,” I say, my voice high as it shakes before breaking. “You knew how much I loved him. He was…he was everything to me.”
“We knew that and we always told you how happy we were that he had you?—”
“But those words meant nothing after you said what you said. They meant nothing when you blamed me for his death,” I choke out, trying with all of my might to hold my hysteria at bay.
She nods her head, tears pouring down her face. I’ve never seen her without makeup, but she wears nothing now. Her blonde hair is pulled back, not at all styled or polished like it usually was. She looks like she’s barely hanging on.
I continue, “You barely let me speak. You put all of your hurt and your anger on me. Part of me understands that, but another part of me doesn’t and never will. Because I didn’t deserve that. I was already broken, and you crushed me down to nothing.” I pause and try to take a deep breath. I wipe the tears off of my cheeks. “You can’t take back what you said. You can’t take back shutting me out for two years.” She nods, agreeing with me. I say, “Hayden would have been so angry at you for that.”
She cries harder, “I know, I know.”
“But I’m so tired of being angry.” My voice cracks. “I’m so tired of feeling so heavy. I want to let go of the weight of this anger and grief. You lost your son. I know you were speaking from a place of pain and heartbreak. I know you didn’t mean it.”
“I didn’t,” Marion responds quickly. “I didn’t mean it. But still, I should never have said that.”
I nod, agreeing with her. “Hayden taught me so many things. Kindness. Compassion. Grace.” I put my hand over my heart and squeeze the fabric of my shirt. “And I forgive you.” She looks at me, her eyes bright with new tears. “I forgive you.”
“Ana, I’m so sorry.” She weeps while her head shakes back and forth. “He would have been so disappointed with me, if he had heard what I said.”
“He would have,” Haven agreed. And Marion nods, taking responsibility.
“I know it doesn’t mean much. And I know we stopped returning your calls,” Marion admits again, “And I’m so sorry about that too.”
“I get it,” I whisper.
“And when you stopped calling altogether, it broke our hearts but we were barely getting through the day.” Marion sniffles, grabbing a tissue out of her pocket. “But you didn’t deserve to be shut out. It’s been almost two years, but it hurts just as bad as it did on that night.”
“I know,” I say, a tear falling down my cheek.
Marion clears her throat and says, “We started going through his stuff in storage a few months ago. The stuff from the apartment that Elliot and your brother moved. It’s just been sitting there and we just…we couldn’t do it. But we started a few months ago.”
“We found a lot of things we want you to have,” Haven begins but I start shaking my head, “but if you’re not ready for everything, there is one thing that you need to have.” Haven pulls out a black box with a lid. It’s not too big, maybe a little smaller than a piece of paper, about three or four inches tall.
“Open it when you’re ready, but you need to have it,” Marion says. Haven holds the box out for me to take, but I don’t grab it right away. I look at it, thinking about how Hayden’s hands probably touched this. I take a deep breath before I reach out with shaking hands and take it from her. I put it in my lap and look back up at them.
“How are you doing?” Marion asks. “Truly?”
I look at her for a minute, thinking before answering, “If you asked me that a few months ago I would have said that I was terrible. That every day was torture and has been since that night. Every day felt pointless, trying to go on felt pointless,” I admit through my tears. “But I decided that living like that was the biggest dishonor to his memory. He would be so mad at me if he saw how I was living.”
They both close their eyes and start crying again. I continue, “My therapist told me that the best way to honor him and his memory is to live my life as fully as I can. It didn’t happen that day or the next day. Or even in the following months. But I’m finally allowing myself to feel joy again, to find joy again. Some days are harder and I miss him so much I can barely breathe—” I cut off and compose myself before continuing, “but those days are getting less and less. I have a lot of days where I remember all of our good moments and I’m so grateful that I had that time with him. I wish I had more. But I’m thankful for the time we did have.”
They both just look at me for a moment before Haven says, “Your strength is incredible, Ana.”
“It’s day by day,” I admit with a shaky laugh. “How are you doing?” I ask gently and cautiously.
Haven shuts her eyes again, turning her head away trying to hide the fresh wave of tears approaching. “We’re better now, after talking to you,” Marion says. “But every day is hard. We’re still waiting for the better days.”
“They’re coming. It will get better,” I say to them, but also to myself. As if they sense that, they both give me a smile. We sit in silence for a moment, composing ourselves.
“Please start calling again,” Marion finally says. “Come for dinner. If you want. I understand if you can’t, if you need to move on.”
I look at her, into the face that greatly resembles the man that I loved. “I would love that,” I say softly.
