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Certainly not for me.
Bottle in hand, I grab my car keys and jacket before I go back down, careful to keep it quiet. I can hear my dad raging as I make my way to the door, but I don’t bother stopping.
I have to get the fuck out of here.
Now.
The cold Michigan air slams into me as soon as I slip outside. The snow has been falling heavily, not that it’s anything strange for this time of the year. Pulling the zipper of my jacket higher, I go toward the car and slip inside, the engine purring to life.
Then I drive.
Since I have no destination in mind, I just drive on autopilot, looking around as I pass the streets for the little things that have changed since the last time I’ve been here. Which was over a couple of years ago.
I’m not sure how long I’m on the road, when the headlights illuminate the familiar sign. I step on the brakes with more force than necessary the car swaying a little over the icy ground as it comes to a stop. Letting out a shaky breath, I look up only to realize I haven’t imagined it.
Somewhere during my drive, my mind has subconsciously brought me to the cemetery.
For a moment, I just sit in the car and watch the sign. I haven’t been here… I’m not even sure in how long. Since the funeral maybe?
Running my hand over my face, I mutter: “What the hell.”
Putting the car in park, I get out, and walk inside. The place is eerily quiet, not strange, considering it’s after seven at night on Christmas Eve. At least no one can give me judging glances as I make my way to my brother’s grave, a bottle in hand.
The knot in my throat grows bigger as I come closer until I’m standing in front of the simple grave.
Gabriel Jonathan Wentworth
A loving son
Taken way too soon
“Hey, Gabby,” I croak, the words coming out rough. “Long time no see, brother.”
Rubbing my finger under my nose to stop the weird tingling, I move closer and crouch down next to his headstone, staring at the engraved words.
Even in his death, they’ve taken him away from me. Unclasping the cap, I take a long pull straight from the bottle, the whiskey burning my insides and warming me up.
“I’m sorry, Gabby,” I whisper, letting the words I’ve been holding in for so long finally out. “So fucking sorry. It’s all my damn fault. It should have been me. Everybody would have been happier if it were me who got sick and died. Mom wouldn’t be so sad all the time, and Dad would have the son he always wanted. And you… You would get the life you deserved.
“I promised you I’d make our dreams come true, but I messed up. We lost in the playoffs.” I let out a scoff, “Although I guess you already know that huh? You were always a better player out of the two of us. Hell, you were always better, full stop. You were my better half, Gabby, and I can’t even keep up the promises I made you. How the fuck is that fair?”
My phone vibrates in my pocket. Wiping at my eyes, I pull it out and look at the message.
Doll: Merry Christmas.
Doll: I hope things are going well with your family.
Taking a pull from the bottle, I let out a humorless chuckle, “Wanna know who that was? That was Jade. Just another person I disappointed. I know, Gabby. Shocker, right?” I huff a laugh, taking a swig from the bottle. “She and I used to date. Who’d have thought, huh? But for a moment there, she made me believe I could be different. For her. I wanted to try, anyway.” I take another gulp of the drink, letting the silence stretch around us. “But then she told me she has cancer, and I just flipped. I couldn’t do it, Gabby. I just couldn’t. Watching her go through it reminded me of you too much. And then she ended up in the hospital, and it was all my fault. It was like the past was repeating itself. Dad’s right, you know? He might be an asshole, but there is one thing he’s right about. I kill everyone I love. And I refuse to be the reason why Jade dies, so I let her go.”
My eyes fall down on my phone still clasped in my hand. The screen has long gone dark, but I can still see Jade’s words written on there. A beacon in the darkness. That’s what she’s been for me this whole time.
“I hated every second of it, but I let her go. It’s better this way, right? She deserves somebody better than me. Somebody who can give her things I never could. But every time I see her, I want to pull her in my arms and never let go. How fucked up is that?”
I hate you. For making me fall in love with you.
I look down at the bottle, letting out a humorless chuckle. I was judging Dad, when I’m exactly like him.
“I wish you were here. I wish you could tell me what to do. I wish you could meet her.” If only wishes came true. “You’d have loved her.”
