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“It’s going to be okay.”
But it’s not. Nothing will ever be the same. I’m not ready to say good-bye. I never will be.
That doesn’t stop the first tear from escaping. Or the sob that follows.
Finn pulls me into his lap, holding me close to his chest as I let it all out. We sit like that until his shirt is soaked from my tears, mascara staining my face, and my breathing has returned to normal. Neither of us speak. There’s nothing that can be said that will change what’s happened or ease the pain.
I pull out of his embrace and stand, tugging my skirt down. Finn mimics my action, wiping his palms down his black dress slacks. When he reaches for my hand, I stare at him for a brief moment before walking away without saying a word. Straight out the front doors to where what’s left of my family is waiting for me.
Max is talking with the pastor when he notices me approach, his gaze sliding past me to the steps of the church. Looking over my shoulder, I realize why. Finn is only a few steps behind me. Glancing between us, Max glares at Finn before silently ushering me into the car. I expect him to follow, but instead he shuts the door, and I watch out the window as he approaches Finn.
His back is to me, but I can clearly see Finn’s face. Whatever Max is saying to him stabs him in the chest. His grimace is enough confirmation, but when Max turns back toward the car, the irritation on his face confirms what has kept me away all this time.
Max will never approve of Finn. Not as more than my friend. Not that it was an option anyway.
“Do you want any food? Something to drink?” Kendall asks, absently rubbing her tattoo as she speaks. She’s been doing it for the past ten minutes. I’m not even sure she realizes how often she touches it.
“No, thank you,” I state. It’s the third time she’s asked me. I know she’s only trying to help, to be supportive. She’s a great friend, but all I want right now is to crawl in bed and close my eyes. I know sleep won’t come but at least I’ll be alone.
The wake is even more depressing than the funeral was. Our house is filled to the brim with people dressed in all black, eyes filled with sorrow. Sharing stories of my father, his name constantly assaulting my ears.
If I hear one more person give me their condolences or say, “I’m sorry,”I’m going to lose my shit.
Sorry doesn’t bring him back.
What are they even sorry for? That he died?
Yeah, me too. It sucks.
My favorite line though: “If there’s anything I can do …”
What do they think they can do for me? Unless they either A. have a time machine I can use or B. know how to resurrect the dead, there’s nothing I want other than for them to move along and leave me alone.
“I saw little cheesecakes in there. Want me to grab you one?”
“I think I’m going to get some fresh air,” I tell Kendall as I push off the couch. She’s hot on my heels, so I shoot her a look over my shoulder. ‘Alone,’ it says. She stutters to a halt, forcing a smile as she wrings her hands in front of her.
Five minutes later, after being stopped by more people than I care to talk to, I finally reach the sliding glass doors leading to the backyard. Once I’m outside, I remove my heels, hurry past the pool, around the storage shed, and down the small hill leading to the edge of our property.
Voices from the house float on the breeze but I’m too far away to make out what they’re saying. Taking a seat beneath the large oak Max pushed me out of when I was five, I toss my shoes across the lawn and rest my back against the trunk.
Whenever I needed to hear myself think, this was where I would come. When my best friend and I would fight, I’d come here to get perspective. I sat here and opened all my acceptance letter for college. I cried under this tree when my first real boyfriend broke up with me. The same boyfriend who I shared my first kiss with … under this tree.
The day I realized I was in love with Finn, I sat here and cried for hours. Knowing that I would never be his. That Max would never let it happen. More importantly, that he didn’t want me the way I wanted him.
Then, after the night we spent together, I came here and cried because I’d had him, if only for a short period of time.
That’s the day I thought I realized what heart break felt like.
Until now. I was heartbroken over losing Finn but losing my father … that’s an entirely different level of pain.
“You really like this tree, don’t you?”
His voice is deep but smooth as silk. It causes a shiver to run up my spine.
“What do you want, Finn?” I ask, my voice flat and void of all emotions.
“Where do you want me to start?” His chuckle is out of character for him. He’s always been a quiet man. Well-spoken when needed but never a jokester.
