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Stage Five: Acceptance
“Hey, Ben,” I whisper. It doesn’t feel right to speak at full volume.
Not here. Not in a cemetery.
My dress blows around my legs and my hair whips against my shoulders. It’s an unusually cool and windy day for early August. Normally, the weather stays blazing hot until the end of the month.
“I miss you,” I continue. “So damn much.” I clear my throat, my emotions getting the better of me. I really thought I could do this without crying but it doesn’t seem likely. “It’s taken me eight long months but I’ve finally accepted things. I never thought I would, but I did. I know you’ve probably been up there yelling at me to get my shit together. I’m sorry for disappointing you.”
Almost as soon as I say the words, I can hear Ben in my ear whispering, “You never disappoint me.”
“I want you to know, that even though I’ve accepted that you’re gone, and I’m ready to move on with my life, it doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten you—or that I will forget you. Our love … you … It’s unforgettable.” I clasp my fingers together. “I used to think that our story ended in tragedy, but I was wrong.” I touch my hand to my stomach. “It ends with life and more love—a new kind of love. I wish you were here to witness it, but I know you’re up there, smiling down on us.” I look up to the cloudless blue sky. I close my eyes, feeling the sun’s rays fan across my skin. I look back down at his grave and the fresh flowers I laid there when I first arrived. “I’m happy,” I tell him, “and I’m not ashamed of that. Not anymore. I understand that I do deserve to be happy.” I clear my throat. “I met a guy and I like him. I really like him, Ben.” Tears fill my eyes. “I think I might be falling in love with him. I know you’d want that for me but it’s still hard.” I pause and take a deep breath. “You’d like him too. He has a little boy and he’s great. Just as sweet as his dad. I didn’t mean to move on,” I whisper. “I didn’t even really realize I had.” My brows draw together. “But somewhere along the way I did. I guess that’s how it works. It’s a gradual thing and one day you sort of realize hey, I’m okay and I’ve been okay. The bad days disappear and you smile and laugh again. And the memories … The memories don’t gut you open anymore. I’d forgotten what your voice sounded like but now I can hear it. Is that part of grief—that you temporarily forget and once you’re healed you can remember again?” I ask the air around me. I sigh, my hands falling to my sides. “I have to go, but I’ll come back soon.”
I kiss my fingers and press them to the cold stone of the grave.
I start to leave and then jolt. “Oh, I almost forgot.” I turn back around and pull the paper crane from my purse.
I’d written on it: Until I see you again.
I left the cemetery and drove back to my apartment. The girls had kicked me out so they could set up for the baby shower. When I got in the car there was a text waiting telling me to get my ass there.
I walk up the steps, twirling my keys around my finger.
I don’t really know what to expect from today, but I can say I’m excited. Surprisingly enough.
I reach the top of the stairs just as the door to my apartment bursts open.
“There you are,” Casey sighs, her blond hair curled around her shoulders. “I thought I was going to have to send out the SWAT team to find you.”
“I didn’t flee the country, obviously.” I laugh as my purse slides off my shoulder to my elbow.
“Everyone’s here,” she says, waving me inside. “So hurry up.”
“You’re so demanding.” I lightly bump her shoulder with mine as I pass and she laughs.
Inside, I’m surprised to find that the place is packed. It looks like everyone from Group turned out, which I wasn’t expecting.
“Hi everyone,” I say. “I’d make introductions but I’m sure you’ve already done that.”
“Come here.” Casey grabs me by the arm and guides me to a chair in the center of the room. “This is your seat,” she says, practically shoving me in it. For someone so small she’s awfully strong.
Ryder smiles across
from me and waves. Butterflies ignite in my stomach.
Casey bends down and whispers in my ear, “You have a lot of explaining to do.”
“I know I should’ve told you guys about Group—” I start.
She shakes her head. “Oh, please, I’m talking about the gorgeous guy over there. He talks about you like you’re … I don’t know, a goddess or something.” I bite my lip and look away. “Don’t even think about lying to us about him. I’m on to you.” She grins and stands up straight so she can address the room. “Now that the guest of honor’s here let’s get this party started!” She pumps her fist like we’re at the club—not like it’s the middle of the afternoon on a Sunday.
“Loraine,” I breathe out, spotting Ben’s mom. “Hi.”
“Hey, how have you been?” she asks, sitting on the couch between Ivy and a guy from Group.
“Good, and you?”
“Better.” She smiles. She still looks tired, but not quite as haunted. There’s color in her cheeks and her eyes aren’t bloodshot. I guess I’m not the only one doing well.
