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Chapter Twenty-one
Peyton
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It’s still dark outside. I don’t know how late it is, but I know it’s pretty late. Abel dozed off a little while ago, but for whatever reason I haven’t been able to make myself get up and leave.
Finally deciding I can’t wait any longer or I might fall asleep, I get up and make my way into the kitchen to get a drink of water. And even though I know I should gather my things and head home before it gets too late, I find myself roaming Abel’s apartment instead.
There’s not a lot in the way of personal items. He has a wraparound couch, a coffee table, a television mounted on the wall. All the things a normal apartment would have, yet there are no pictures, no figurines, or little mementos from his life. Nothing. Nothing except a small silver vase that sits on the mantel above the fireplace.
It catches my eye, even in the dimness of the room, and I find myself drawn to where it sits. It isn’t until I’m standing directly in front of it that I see the letters etched along the bottom.
Finley
I read the name twice before it dawns on me what this is... Finley’s ashes.
From the bits and pieces I’ve picked up along the way I knew that Finley was cremated. What I did not know was that Abel still had her ashes, or that they were sitting in the room I’ve occupied with Abel most of the night.
It doesn’t bother me. I mean, why would it? But it does give me this weird feeling. Like there’s not enough room in this apartment for the both of us. I know that probably sounds bad. I guess you’d have to be in my shoes to understand the feeling. I’ve known all along that Abel’s heart belongs to another. I guess I’m just now realizing what that means for me.
How can there possibly be a future for us? How could I ever stack up to this perfect girl? The one he loved so dearly, who died way too young.
It’s nights like tonight where it’s easy to pretend. It’s easy to forget about the ghost that stands between us. The one, after three years, Abel still hasn’t been able to let go of.
She must have been some girl. To earn the love of a man like Abel and have it given to her so whole heartedly, even years after her death.
I wonder if a man will ever love me like that. A love that defies everything, even death.
“What are you doing?” I jump at the sound of Abel’s voice. Turning to face him, he’s leaning against the opening of the hallway, watching me.
“Sorry,” I fumble. “I was just getting ready to head out and I saw this.”
“I haven’t been able to let them go yet,” he says, his eyes going to the urn. “Half of them are buried with her headstone. This half.” He gestures to the mantle as he crosses the room toward me. “This half...” He stops next to me, his eyes on the urn. “She told me that when I was ready...” He trails off as his gaze slides to mine. “I keep waiting to be ready, but the thought of taking her and letting her go feels more impossible than anything I’ve ever done. Aside from watching her die.”
“They say time heals all wounds. I don’t know if I believe that’s true,” I say, looking to where Finley’s urn sits in front of us. “Some wounds heal quickly. Some take a little longer. And then some, the really deep ones, I don’t think they ever truly heal. It’s more like they form a permanent scab. It’s enough so that we don’t bleed out, but it never heals more than that.”
“I keep waiting for the day. The day I wake up and know it’s time. I’m starting to wonder if that day will ever come.”
“I get that feeling. Losing a mom is different than losing a spouse, but I think both are monumental losses.” My eyes go to his chest where Finley’s name is tattooed in beautiful cursive.
“I got it a few weeks before she died,” he says, clearly seeing where my mind has gone. “I thought somehow it would help me keep her alive, even after she was gone.”
“I did the same thing.” I hold up my left foot, and without explaining the meaning behind it, I gesture to the feather tattoo that runs along the top.
“Thank you for being here.” His statement has my head turning upward to find his eyes locked on me. “You make it easier somehow. Easier to think. Easier to breathe.”
The tight knot that’s been lingering in my chest skyrockets into my throat and I find myself unable to form a single word.
“I know I’m all over the place. And I know I’m probably giving off some really confusing signals. But the truth is I really like you, Peyton. I’m just trying to figure out how to carry those feelings with all the others that are jumbled up in my head.” He blows out a breath, angling his body so that he’s facing me head on. “Just be patient with me, okay?”
“I like this.” I gesture between the two of us. “I hope you know I don’t expect anything from you. I just really enjoy being with you.”
“I enjoy being with you too,” he says, reaching out to trail his hand lightly down my arm.
“There’s no pressure here, I hope you know that,” I reassure him, even though in my heart all I really want is for him to be mine. Reallymine. But I also know that trying to force it will only push him away. So, I’m trying to play it his way, in hopes that it goes my way in the end.
“I do. And I can’t tell you how much that means to me. You’ve brought light back into my life. After spending three years stumbling around in the dark, I need some time to adjust.”
