Haunt Me (Heartbreaker Duet #2)

eight

Miles and miles away, somewhere in Chicago, today is the last day Eden’s mother will spend on this earth. She will die in a few hours, losing the battle to cancer and grief.

In New England, it’s just another rainy day.

Neither Eden nor I have a clue at this point about what is happening. We don’t even know her mom exists. We spend the day sitting quietly in the shelter of a tree under the gently weeping rain, not knowing why we both feel like crying.

In our defense, we usually feel like crying. But we don’t usually feel like this when we are near each other. Our proximity to each other seems to lift the heavy cloud that presses down on both our chests at all other times .

Not today though.

Today I am sad, and not just about my dad.

I’m sad and I don’t know why.

Eden is, too.

I steal a glance at her. She’s reading her book, pages curling with moisture from the rain, brow furrowed, lips turned down as if she’s fighting tears. I scooch closer, almost touching her hand with my elbow, but I don’t say anything. I take out my violin and play the saddest tune I know, but I don’t know who I’m playing it for.

I will think later that I was playing it for her mother.

I hope it’s true.

Eden closes her book and leans her head back, taking in the melody. At some point I stop playing, but Eden doesn’t open her book again. Tears travel quietly down her cheeks and neck, and I want to catch them with my thumb, but it feels too intimate, and I’m not ready for the things it will do to me.

So we just sit there under the trees, listening to the forest’s haunting whispers in the light rain, while somewhere far away, Eden’s mother takes one more of her last breaths.