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Chapter 1
Faye
I wake gasping for air at 1:01am. That is the same time that Ben passed away over a year ago, and even though so much time has passed, nothing seems to be any easier.
In fact, each day is just as hard as the last. I’m constantly reminded of the memories and the time we shared. Looking back, when Ben was still alive, I’d hoped I could’ve found comfort in those memories, but I haven’t and fear I never will.
Every street I drive down reminds me of him, every song that comes on the radio, every blond-haired guy I see—it’s all a reminder of the man I lost, my husband, my one and only.
I often wonder why God takes certain people. Why not me? Why him? I would’ve switched places with him in a heartbeat. But that’s not the way things work in this world, and we all know that. As fucked up as situations can be, sometimes you’re stuck with no way out.
Getting out of bed, I look over at Ben’s side. My chest tightens imagining him taking his final breath right there. Knowing my mind will not stop running, I get up and check on Braxley to be sure that he’s sound asleep and safe. Lately, I’ve become obsessed with checking on him, and I think it’s because I’m scared that I’ll lose him too. Thinking of it gives me the chills. Without Braxley I don’t know what would happen to me. Bile rises to the back of my throat; that overbearing motherly instinct is so strong, I’m not sure how to control it, and I don’t think I should.
Closing the door to his bright blue room that we painted as a family, I head down to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of wine. The reflection of the moonlight glimmers on the pool in our backyard.
I can still picture Ben and Braxley, playing out in the water and me floating in my lounge chair, which now sits empty atop the glassy water. I haven’t been able to bring myself to swim since Ben passed. Braxley still swims, though, and I’m grateful that he’s young enough to not understand the true pain of death and how he’ll never see his father again.
I wish I could say the same for myself, but I can’t. I’ll always remember the moment I lost Ben and the month leading up to it.
Heading into the living room, my feet pad quietly against the rough wood floors, yet another reminder of Ben. He planned on sanding and refinishing them…but like so many things, he never got the chance.
I lie down on the couch, sipping my wine, and close my eyes, searching for some peace and quiet from the constant torment that my brain is putting me through. But all I can see is Ben, struggling, the lines of pain etched into his face, and then that one final breath of air he took before he left me.
I sob, covering my mouth, and hope one day I’ll find a tiny amount of relief from the torment that surrounds me.
***
“Mommy,” Braxley says, nudging my shoulder, waking me up.
“Yeah, baby?” I blink heavily, looking into his dark innocent eyes, the same eyes of his father.
“I’m hungry.”
“Okay.” In a groggy fog, I get up and follow him into the kitchen, but I’m still so happy to see him. I only fell asleep a few hours ago, and anymore I’m only functioning off a few snatched moments of sleep.
Braxley hops up on a stool at the bar, his short legs dangling over the edge, as I look into the fridge. “What do you feel like eating?” I ask him.
“I don’t care,” he says.
Of course, he doesn’t. He’s the easiest kid in the world when it comes to eating. “How about lasagna?” I suggest playfully with a waggle of my eyebrows, pulling out a container of leftovers that my mom brought us. His lips pull up into a huge grin, his smile the only thing that keeps me going anymore. “Okay,” he shrugs his shoulders, and I roll my eyes.
“Come on, Braxley, I wouldn’t feed you lasagna for breakfast.”
“I’ll eat it, Mommy.”
“Do you really want it?” I ask him.
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” I pop it in the microwave and start a pot of coffee.
“Why did you sleep on the couch?” he asks me.
“I’m just more comfortable there.”
“‘Cause Daddy’s not in your bed anymore?”
“Yes, honey.” I pull out the lasagna and blow on it, then hand it to Braxley. I’m grateful that he’s not bothered by talking about Ben being gone, and I think it’s because he doesn’t really understand that he’ll never see his dad again. Happily, he begins to eat his food with a satisfied expression on his face, and I stand there just watching him.
