Page 146 of What Should Have Been Ours

I nod weakly, my face still buried against her. “Stay with me? Just for a little while longer.”

She presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Of course.”

Not long passes before I hear the front door unlock. I can hear Wes’s voice talking to my mom briefly before finding us on the bathroom floor. He doesn’t say anything. He just extends his hand to help Kinsley up from the floor and then reaches back out for me.

Guiding us both to his car, Wes helps Kinsley into the front seat and then guides me into the back seat next to where my mom is already seated.

The drive passes by in a blur. And I stare out of the car window, but I’m not really paying attention. I’m too lost in thoughts, memories, grief, and heartache to pay attention to anything else.

I sit there and wonder if I’ll ever feel anything that’s not this deep, gut-wrenching pain again.

* * *

The funeral home is grand, almost cathedral-like, with towering ceilings and soft golden light spilling through the stained glass windows. It makes the room feel warm—a space that was built for beautiful goodbyes.

When we step inside, we’re the first ones here. They give us a moment before everyone else arrives, a small sliver of time to take the first steps into this unbearable new reality.

You know, I thought I’d shatter the second I saw him. I thought my body would cave in under the weight of my grief, that I’d crumble before I could make it across the room. But as I step closer, something washes over me. Not devastation. Not panic.

Peace.

It’s like he’s here.

Like I can feel him beside me, his touch warming my skin, his arms wrapping around me from behind, his breath against my ear, whispering, I’m right here, Gab. You’re gonna be okay.

A single tear slips down my cheek, but for once, it doesn’t feel like sorrow. It feels laced with love. So much love.

His mother steps aside, dabbing at her eyes with trembling fingers, and I move forward, closing the last bit of space between us.

He looks…still. Perfect in a way that doesn’t make sense, his face untouched by the suffering he carried. His lips are slightly parted as if he’s about to say something, one last joke, one last I love you.

I reach out, taking his hand and brushing my thumb over the ridges of his knuckles. It’s colder than it should be. I swallow down the lump in my throat and lean forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

And then, softly, I whisper, “You always did have to be the best looking in every room, huh?”

A small choked laugh escapes me, the kind that hurts but feels like him laughing through me.

I let my fingers trace over his once more, memorizing the shape of them, the way they always used to hold mine. My voice is quieter now, just for him. “You better be waiting for me like you promised.”

Wes steps up beside me. He looks at Cam and exhales. “Man, I hope they have a stocked bar and the biggest screen for you to watch all the games up there, Bud.”

It’s such a Wes thing to say.

Something Cam would’ve smirked at, tossing back a quick-witted reply.

But there’s no reply now. No smirk. Just the weight of silence between us all now.

I glance at Wes, and without saying anything, I wrap my arms around him. He stiffens for a second, then exhales sharply, his arms coming around me, holding on like he needs it as much as I do.

My voice is hoarse when I speak. “You weren’t just his best friend, Wes. You were always his brother. He adored you so much. And behind closed doors, he never stopped talking you up and telling me how proud he was of you.”

Wes swallows hard, his breath hitching. He just nods against my shoulder, unable to speak, and hugs me tighter.

Then, as if drawn by the same invisible pull, Kinsley steps forward and wraps her arms around us both, holding us together in the way only she can.

And for a moment, it feels like Cam is holding us too.

* * *