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I hold her tighter with one hand cradling the back of her head as she buries her face against my chest, the other rubbing soothing circles on her back. There’s nothing I can say that’ll make this better. No words could possibly reach the depth of the grief she’s carrying.

So I don’t even try.

I just stand here and hold her while she completely falls apart.

Finding out that Nanna is no longer with us was heartbreaking, but this … watching Poppy completely unravel in my arms and feeling the weight of her loss as she breaks apart, is somehow so much worse.

Chapter 8

Poppy

I open my eyes and stretch, still revelling in those blissful few moments that come when you wake. That feeling only lasts a few seconds before the realisation hits that my worst nightmare has come true. My Nanna is gone.

The grief that hits me is as sharp as it was yesterday, sitting heavy in my chest until it feels impossible to take a full breath.

I lie here staring at the ceiling, half expecting to hear her moving around the house, the familiar creak of the floorboards or the smell of her cooking wafting down the hallway. The silence that greets me instead is almost unbearable.

I don’t even remember coming to bed last night. Thoughts of Bennett enter my head. The gratitude I felt when he turned up at my door was indescribable. The way he held me and let me get it all out was so comforting. He’s still a stranger to me, but in some ways, he isn’t.

There’s something familiar about him now that I can’t explain. He never pushed me to talk, and seemed to know that there was nothing he could say to make any of this better. He just stayed, and somehow that was enough. In a way, it felt like he was grieving her loss as well.

He held me on the front porch for God knows how long, and when he finally guided me inside, he sat me down on the couch before disappearing into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he came back with a cup of tea and a couple of slices of toast.

It was the last thing I wanted, but I ate the toast and drank the tea anyway, if only because he quietly insisted. It was the first thing I’d eaten since I got the call from the hospital the night before.

When I finished my food, he came over, sat beside me, and patted his thigh, silently asking me to rest my head there. I don’t know why I did it. Maybe because I was too exhausted to think straight, or maybe because, for the first time since I’d gotten the call, I felt safe enough to stop holding myself together.

As his fingers moved slowly through my hair, the knot in my chest loosened enough for sleep to find me. That’s the last thing I remember. Did Bennett carry me to bed?

My stomach twists as another thought creeps in. Yesterday, I was too consumed by the loss of Nanna to think about what came next, but today there’s no escaping it. The house feels impossibly big, and for the first time in my life, it isn’t just empty, it’s mine to face on my own.

This is the second day in a row I’ve missed work, and I have classes later, but neither of those things feels important at the moment. Thankfully, both my employers told me to take as much compassionate leave as I need.

I’m going to force myself to go back tomorrow. I don’t have a choice. I have to organise my nanna’s funeral today, and I haven’t got the first clue where to start, let alone how I’m going to afford it. I’m going to need every cent I can get. I might have to try to squeeze in a third job somehow. I don’t want to lose this house.

With that in mind, I begrudgingly drag myself out of bed, shoving my feet into my pink slippers and wrapping Nanna’s crochet blanket tightly around my shoulders.

As I enter the hallway, I pause as I pass my grandparents’ bedroom. Tears pool in my eyes as I rest my head against the closed door. I’m not ready to go in there yet. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to.

I can picture her sitting at the end of the bed, folding laundry while the radio plays softly in the background, and the smell of her perfume still lingering faintly in the air.

This room holds so much of her. The old wooden jewellery box on her dresser, the photos of happier times scattered across the bedside table, and the chair in the corner where she’d sit and mend my clothes.

I remember coming into this room when I was younger, after a nightmare, and climbing under the covers between her and Pa, because she always made space for me. Even when I got older and pretended I didn’t need her as much, she still left her bedroom door open at night, just in case.

A strangled sob tears from the back of my throat as I stand here, overwhelmed by everything this room represents. Every memory. Every piece of a life that I’m not ready to let go of.

I don’t even hear anyone approach until a hand lands on my shoulder, making me jump back in surprise.

I whip my head around and find Bennett standing behind me. “You’re still here.”

“I left shortly after carrying you to bed,” he says. “I went home to shower and change, but I came straight back. I slept on the couch.”

My eyes widen slightly. “You slept here?”

“I hope that’s okay,” he says, his voice softer. “I didn’t want to leave you alone.”

For a moment, I just stare at him.