27. Jillian
TWENTY-SEVEN
Jillian
The North Woods are quieter than I expected for Father’s Day. The tall trees sway gently in the summer breeze, their leaves filtering the sunlight into scattered patterns across the forest floor. It’s peaceful here—an oasis in the chaos of the city.
I walk the path alone, thankful Sheila is watching Jamie for me. One day when he’s older, I’ll bring him with me. But for now, this would be too much for him, I think.
I stop near the stream, find the flat rock, and climb on it. The same rock where I sat that day—the day I scattered his ashes. The day I said goodbye to CJ. It feels both like a lifetime ago and like yesterday. My breath catches, a lump forming in my throat.
I lower myself and sit down, my gaze fixed on the stream, the water trickling softly over the stones. The rock feels warm under my palm as I trace its rough surface. CJ loved this place. He used to tell me it felt like a little slice of magic in the middle of the city.
I close my eyes and surrender to the lullaby of the stream and the wind in the trees. The world is rushing all around me—it waits for no one. But here, in this little slice of magic, time stands still.
I open my eyes, stand up, and walk to the water’s edge. “I met someone. He makes me laugh.” A sob escapes. “He’s kind and gentle.”
Tears stream down my face. “And he’s so good with Jamie. I think you would have liked him, too.”
I wipe at my face. “I miss you so much, CJ.” I bend down and pick up a rock, hold it in my hand for a moment and then throw it into the stream with more force than necessary. “A part of me hates that you made me promise you I’d find someone else if something happened to you. But I understand it. I wouldn’t want you to be alone either.”
I pick up another rock, my vision blurred by tears, and hold it in my closed hand. “I’m trying. I’m trying to move forward and give him—give me a chance.”
I open my palm, ready to toss this rock into the river and stop. A choked laugh bursts out of me. The rock is perfectly shaped into a heart.
The bittersweet ache of love, loss, and gratitude hits me all at once, and I smile through the tears.
“Happy Father’s Day, CJ,” I whisper into the breeze and put the rock into my pocket.