Chapter 22
I open up my email to see my editor had responded with the final edits for my poetry book.
With a smile from ear to ear, I read through each poem, ecstatic with the final product.
I still can’t believe having my little poem in a local magazine led to my getting noticed by agents and publishers.
I didn’t think I’d be able to finish this, really.
But as I was writing it, alongside dealing with the never-ending feelings of grief, I remembered my dad’s words ‘finish that book for Coco’.’Now here I am.
My first poetry book is being produced, and it’s all about the journey of grief.
The book takes you on a journey from when I found out, to now, I guess.
I asked about the possibility of releasing it on the day Coco passed, and it was approved.
I’m convinced that she is watching over me, pleased that my work is finally being read by someone other than her.
I’ve updated Nora every step of the way, although it takes days for her to reply, but I guess she is busy.
I’ve watched pretty much every show she’s done.
Her band has only gotten bigger.
The arenas are full, and girls are throwing themselves at the band.
I offered to visit Nora for a couple of days whilst we were both free, but once again, I’ve heard nothing for a while.
I watched her live show last night, and she looks tired.
But I know they have a week without touring in a couple of days.
I open up my calendar and conveniently; I don’t have loads of meetings.
Maybe I could surprise her? I reach out to the lead singer of her band,Scarlett.
All her band mates followed me almost instantly after she’d touched down in
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America. As soon as it’s sent, she’s already seen it.
I think she’d love that! We’re staying at the Caesars Palace then
I look up the flights and debate doing it. Does she even want to see me? I mean, it has been five months, but in all honesty I just want to have a catch up with her. My finger clicks down and somehow I’ve magically booked it. I cover my mouth with my hand. Did I really just spend hundreds of pounds on a flight to see a girl who barely answers me anymore? Fuck. Well, I’ve always wanted to visit America, so I guess this will be interesting either way. My phone pings and I look down.
Nora - sorry for not answering, been busy, super tired, miss you.
I smile down at my phone. At least that’s a little reassurance she’ll be happy to see me. I walk downstairs to the living room and find my mum and dad cuddled up on the sofa, watching some dramatic soap.
“You okay, darling?”
My mum asks, a glass of wine in her hand. My mum’s not necessarily strict, but she worries a lot about me since Coco passed. Even after my work being published.
“So, I have some news.”
I say awkwardly, picking my nails.
“Pause the show.”
My mum says to my dad. They both look at me, my mum’s face filled with concern whereas my dads say ‘hurry, so I can finish the show.’
“I’m going to Las Vegas.”
“What?”
“In two days.”
“What?!”
my mum shrieks, standing up.
“Mum, please, it’s fine!”
I raise my voice a little.
“To do what?”
Hopefully Nora.
“To see Nora.”
My mum rolls her eyes. My mum wasn’t very impressed when I told her about Nora, not because she’s a woman, but because it hadn’t been long since we’d known each other for. I had come home head over
*
heels, blabbering on about Nora. Then came the week where I was a little heartbroken to say. Soaking my pillows with tears and snot, barely eating and binge watching ‘Friends.’ She didn’t understand how I’d fallen so quickly, but then again, she wasn’t in my position.
“Do whatever, Ophelia, because no matter what I say, you never listen.”
Mum angrily wanders around the kitchen, doing ‘chores’ although I know it’s just a distraction.
“Fine.”
I say bluntly, walking out the kitchen.
“Fine!”
my mum yells back, clattering about the kitchen. I just wish she’d realised I’m not that vulnerable, grief-stricken girl I was almost a year ago. I’ve grown, and I’m not a risk to myself anymore. Living is something I truly love. I love seeing the things I’ve accomplished when I put my mind to it. If only she could see that.
As I lay on my bed, doom scrolling through my phone, someone gently knocks at my door.
“What?”
I say muffled, my mouth slightly covered by the pillow. My mum walks in, like a cat with a tail between its legs.
“I’m sorry, Ophelia.”
She says, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
“I just… after you lost Coco, I was so scared for you. I thought I was going to lose my daughter.”
Mum’s voice is shaky.
“But, I get it now. I realise I’ve been overbearing, constantly worried, and watching you, so I owe you an apology.”
I’m glad she’s come to the realisation of how she’s been for the past year.
“But there’s something else I must confess.”
My mum says so quietly it’s almost inaudible. She pulls a creased letter out of her trouser pockets and hands it to me. When I look at the front, my heart instantly drops. It’s my name… in Coco’s handwriting.
“Wh- what is this?”
I stutter.
“It’s the letter Coco wrote to you before she passed.”
I feel anger bubble up inside me. How dare she keep this hidden from me for months? I would spend hours crying, wishing she left me a letter, and she did. My eyes instantly well up, making everything around me blurry.
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“Get out.”
I say, not looking at my mum.
“Please, let me explain.”
“Explain what? Explain how you kept my best friend’s suicide note TO ME, hidden?”
I yell, feeling as if I’m spitting out venom.
“I didn’t think you could take it back then!”
My mum yells louder.
“So you do it now? Get out.”
I try to keep my voice lower, because I currently feel like a ticking time bomb ready to explode.
“Ophelia.”
My mum says, before her words blur out into just sound, no words, just noise. I’m so angry at her, and so scared to read this. My heart is beating so fast, I fear it will explode out of my chest any second. I feel sick.
“FUCK OFF!”
I scream, louder than I’ve ever done before. My mum jumps and stares at me blankly. I hear my dad run up the stairs and stomp towards my door. Before he even has time to speak, my mum ushers him out, not saying another word to me. The door clicks, and I let myself collapse into a puddle of tears. I stare down at the letter in between my fingers, my name in my best friend’s handwriting. I put the paper to my nose and smell, and instantly all the memories of her room come running back to me. The paper has a soft scent of coconut and vanilla, just like Coco’s room. She always picked coconut scented things to ‘match’ her name. She thought it was funny. I open the envelope carefully, trying not to rip any part. I pull the piece of paper out and unfold it. There it is.
To Ophelia.
I don’t think you’ll ever know how sorry I am. I know this is going to hurt, and I wish I could spare you from the pain. The day I met you, I knew you’d be my best friend and oh boy, was I right. You have been my rock through everything, never leaving my side and always making me laugh until I can’t breathe. I thank you for that.
I don’t want you to think this was your fault or you could’ve stopped this, because you couldn’t. I’ve been hiding this for years because I never wanted to weigh you down with my struggles. I can’t keep fighting these battles in my head, day in, day out. It’s sucking the life out of me. I didn’t do this because I had nothing to live for.
*
I did this because I couldn’t keep living in this pain. Please remember, you were the best thing in my life and without you; I don’t know if I would’ve made it this far.
Please keep living freely and wildly, because you deserve all the happiness and love the world can offer you.
Don’t let this lead you to the same darkness that took me. Find peace in knowing
I’m in a better place now, and I’ll always be by your side every step of the way.
Never stop watching Mamma Mia. Sing those songs for me. Live for both of us.
I’m sorry.
I love you
Coco x
I stare down at the piece of paper in front of me.
My emotions are circling my mind frantically.
I thought Coco had never written me a letter.
I spent this year devastated by the fact she didn’t say goodbye to me, when in fact she did.
My mum hid it all this time, without telling me.
The thought of even speaking to my parents right now is boiling my blood.
I don’t even know if I can stay in the house with them right now.
Impulsive, I grab my phone and look at how much it would be to change my flight to this evening, and surprisingly, the fee is low.
So I do it.
I drag my suitcase out of my closet and shove a load of clothes in there.
I don’t really have time to stop and think about what my outfit plans are.
Once I’ve shoved everything I can think of into my suitcase, I zip it up and get into a tracksuit.
I’ve got to be comfy if I am about to be on a ten-hour flight.
I drag my suitcase down the stairs and my mum is sitting on the sofa blubbering to my dad, who’s reassuringly stroking her back. They both look up as my suitcase hits the floor.
“And where are you going?”
My dad asks, standing up and crossing his arms over his chest.
“Las Vegas, flights in four hours.”
I say bluntly, pushing all my emotions down just till I leave.
“What? You said it was in two days.”
Mum says, panicked.
“I changed it. I can’t stay here right now.”
“Sweetheart, please, can we just talk?”
My mum tries to grab my hand and
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I shake her off, pulling my hand away.
“Mum, I can’t right now. I don’t want to say any more hurtful things to you.”
Mum chews on her bottom lip and nods. I leave, without saying anything else.