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Angus lifts his head at the mention of his name, and we both smile fondly at him.
“He would have been so upset if he knew I did that to myself,” I whisper. “When I…”
My mom grips my hand. “Ellie… There were a lot of things that happened after he died. I’m just thankful that I didn’t lose you too.”
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I say. “I’m sorry that I… I only hurt you in the end and it made things so much worse for us.”
“Don’t apologize,” she says, squeezing my hand. “All that matters is that we have each other.”
I nod and curl into her, Angus inching closer as he fights for his place on my mom’s lap as the unofficial younger child.
“Is this because of Rhylan?” she finally asks. “That you’re saying all of this?”
I sigh, pulling away from her and slumping against the couch. “I don’t know.”
“Listen, you don’t have to tell me what happened between you two. We don’t have to tell each othereverything. You’re an adult. I don’t need to know why you didn’t come home after we had dinner with Mark.”
“Mom,” I protest.
“But,” she continues, her hand coming up between us, “just know that sometimes, you have to learn to move on. Even though it’s the last thing you want to do. Even if it might not feel right to you.”
“Is that what made you finally start dating Mark?”
“Something like that,” she says through a loving smile.
My brows turn up as my lips press into a firm line, suffocating the fresh wave of tears tightening my throat. “I’m trying.”
She nods. “I… I promise I won’t hide behind all the things that we—I—don’t want to talk about. If you want to talk, we’ll talk.” Her apologetic face pleads for forgiveness.
“Yeah,” I answer, patting her thigh. “Thanks, Mom.”
“And I’m so happy that you have Claire,” she adds. “Hold on to that one.”
I chuckle. “I will. But I’m not going to tell her you said that because her head will just…” I mime the image of Claire’s head exploding, bringing my hands to the side of my head while mimicking the sound of an explosion with my mouth, the pressure of it getting too big, causing it to finally combust.
“She might even claim she’s your favorite daughter,” I add. My mom laughs, shaking her head.
Once I’m in my room, lying in bed with the lights turned off and the TV volume low enough to provide the most minimal background noise, I reason with the small space between reality and possibility. Maybe what Rhylan and I had was infatuation, something that grew out of hand. And maybe it’s best that this fatuous relationship ended before it turned into something that wasn’t meant to be.
But the more I think about it, to call it infatuation doesn’t make sense. It’s not right because this was deeper than that. As much as it didn’t make sense, it stemmed from a place of love. I can’t deny it. No matter how much I wanted to or tried.
It doesn’t matter though. Whether I love Rhylan or he loves me. None of that matters anymore. The inevitable truth is that I’m meant to live my life without him in it. Without our laughs, without our moments, without the words that were shared between only us two, completely secretive and intimate. I have to slowly learn to let all of that go, just like my mom said, and that’s what is killing me. The painful goodbye that I’m putting off. I don’t know how to say goodbye to a part of me that I have just learned I can’t live without. But I have to, one way or another.
Even though it doesn’t feel right, I have to move on. I don’t have a choice.
THIRTY-FOUR
RHYLAN
The room is spinning. Not just metaphorically but literally. It’s spinning on some rapidly rotating axis. The light is excruciatingly bright, causing me to wince and recoil. I bring my hand to my face to shield it, the stinging light still bursting through my fingers in bright rays.
A light knock hits my door, but in my current state, it sounds like a large gong booming against the walls.
“Good morning, sunshine.” Charles’s voice rings too loudly even though he’s speaking at a regular volume. “Actually, good afternoon.”
I grimace and rub my hands into my face. “What time is it?” My voice is scratchy, like it’s filled with sand.
“Just after one. A little later than the normal wake-up time for a well-established adult, but who am I to judge?”
