He left everything to me, but I have no idea what I’m supposed to do with it all. We sorted through some of Marjorie’s things after she passed, donated some of her clothes, and packed away little trinkets. But most of it stayed exactly where she left it. Like he couldn't bear to let her go completely.
And now…I get it. More than I ever wanted to.
I know there’s no way I’ll get through all of this in one day. Honestly, I’d be lucky to make a dent even if I spent every day here for a month. But I have the next two weeks off, so I’ll figure it out, or at least come up with some kind of plan.
That’s a start. Right?
Chance and I got into a fight right before I came, which is why I’m here alone.Again.
Apparently, he couldn’t make it to the funeral. He was “too busy with work.”Said it was“too short of noticefor him to take the time off."
I guess I can understand that, not everyone has a flexible schedule. But still… funerals aren’t exactly planned in advance.
Chance and my grandpa barely knew each other. He was alwaystoo busyto come with me when I visited.Too busy—that’s always his excuse. And maybe it’s valid, but how long do I pretend it doesn’t hurt?
I don’t need someone to solve my problems, butdamn.Just showing up would be nice.
We got into it last night, which I hated, especially after the day I had. The storm outside seemed to echo my mood with every crack of thunder feeling like an extension of my own rage. The sky howled as the clouds rolled in like an ocean ready to swallow everything whole. It rained in torrents, as if the world were mourning with me.
When I got here after the service, I was a mess, barely holding myself together.
I tried calling Chance. No answer.
I called again.
And again.
By the time he finally picked up, desperation had settled into my bones. He sounded annoyed. He was acting like he'd already checked out of the conversation before it even started.
He rattled off howbusyhe was, howsorryhe was, but he justcouldn’t talk right now.
And then there was my favorite,“Not everyone can put their life on hold.”
That was the exact second something in me snapped and I almost broke up with his ass right then and there.
I knew he’d been stressed. Starting a business isn’t easy. But I wasn’t asking him to fix anything or move any mountains. I justneeded him here.
A few hours later, he apologized. Said he was tired. That hedidn’t mean itand promised he’d talk to his boss and see if he could take the day off and come down in the morning.
This morning, however, I got another text.
Chance: Headed into the office early. I’ll call you after my meeting.
I didn’t even reply.
At least I have Rachel. She’s my best friend and the closest thing I have to a sister. If she weren’t out of town, I know without question she’d be here right now, forcing me into some ridiculous distraction, determined to make me laugh.
But she isn’t. And I’m alone.
A loud growl from my stomach reminds me that I haven’t eaten since before the service. I force myself into the kitchen, reaching for a glass of water. But when I look up, I freeze.
A photo sits on the counter.
Three people with their arms wrapped around each other, smiling on the porch.
Me. Grandpa. Grandma.
The grief slams into me like a tidal wave before I can brace for it. The weight on my chest crushes down, and suddenly, the air is too thick. It feels like all the walls are pressing in. My vision blurs and a lump forms in my throat as hot tears sting my eyes. I try to shove it back down and lock it up tight where it can’t reach me, but it’s too late. The dam cracks wide open, and before I know it, I'msobbing.
