Chapter 19 Faye #2
“Anyway.” Gwendoline shrugged it off. “Anyone important to my sons is important to me. Peter doesn’t take easily to people, so I wanted to tell you that if you need anything, please come by the Manor.”
“Can I ask you something?” Faye asked before Gwendoline made her escape.
“Sure.”
“How did you do it? Given everything you went through, how did you stay so strong?” Faye dared to ask.
“I faked it.”
“Really?”
Gwendoline offered her a small smile. “You fake it each day, put one foot in front of the other, and don’t let anyone see you falter. Until one day you don’t even realise you’re faking it anymore. But you should credit yourself for how far you’ve come, Faye.”
“I don’t feel like I deserve any credit. I feel like I couldn’t have done any of it without everyone’s help.” Faye was always afraid that she wasn’t as strong as everyone believed.
“There is nothing wrong with accepting help. In fact, it takes more strength to accept help and trust than it does to white-knuckle it through the tough times. Take it from someone who knows. You’re far stronger a woman than I.
I’d go so far as to say you’re one of the bravest and strongest women, magless or magical folk, in town. ”
Faye would have believed she was mocking her if she didn’t look so serious. “I don’t feel that way.”
“You think I’m brave because I protected you from Ian, but I’m a powerful witch, and it was easy for me to challenge him.
On the other hand, you’re a magless with no power or skill to defend yourself, yet you fought him for years.
Not many would have the strength or will to keep up that struggle,” Gwendoline said, resting a hand over hers.
“I didn’t want to die.” Faye wiped her eyes before the tears dared to spill.
“It’s easy to die,” Gwendoline said, “but having the heart to fight, to live, is a daily decision – and with what you’ve been through, a struggle that will stick with you. Don’t try to rid yourself of the pain and suffering of what you’ve endured.”
“What should I do then?” Faye was surprised by her advice. Surely getting rid of her trauma would be best for her. “Wallow in memories forever?”
“You can wallow for a time. It’s part of healing to lick your wounds.
The best advice I can give you is to accept, embrace, and wear it as your armour.
You can’t go back to who you were before.
Trust me, it’s a waste of energy – but you can build a new you out of the pieces.
The only thing you need is patience to find yourself,” Gwendoline said.
“I really needed to hear that. It’s been hard to confide in others who understand. I wish I had my mum, but my family left Foxford, and I don’t want to burden my friends,” Faye confessed.
“Foxford is your family, and we aren’t going anywhere,” Gwendoline said firmly. “You are never a burden. We are a community.”
“I really want to hug you,” Faye said daringly.
Gwendoline stilled. “If you must.”
Faye stood up and wrapped her arms around her. She couldn’t thank her enough for being so vulnerable.
“Right, well. I hope you feel better, and please tell Peter I hope he’ll come home soon.” Gwendoline tapped her gently.
“Come home soon?” Faye released her. “Isn’t he at the Manor?”
“You haven’t seen him?”
“Not since last night.”
“I’m surprised he came at all.” Gwendoline nodded. “I suppose it makes sense that he would make an exception for you.”
“I think I’m missing something.” Faye frowned.
“Don’t you know?” Gwendoline asked, surprised. “It’s his anniversary. Peter’s.”
“I’m so sorry! Here you are comforting me…” Faye didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten. No wonder he had gone when she woke up.
“No need to apologise. I thought Peter would tell you,” Gwendoline said.
“He didn’t.” Faye wished she had remembered the anniversary. It made more sense now why Benedict had been so angry at his brother. Faye was so caught up with her own life that she hadn’t realised what Peter must be dealing with.
“I thought he might be here. Benedict mentioned how he struggles to keep away from you,” Gwendoline said, eyeing her knowingly.
Is that it? She isn’t going to warn me to stay away from Peter? Faye figured she might just be testing the waters to see if there was more between them than friendship, so she decided to play it cool.
“I wouldn’t say that, but if I see him, I’ll tell him that you’re thinking of him.” Faye couldn’t imagine how hard it must be for him to be around those who grieved him, or at least the life they’d thought he would have.
“I’ve taken up enough of your time. I’ve a meeting at the Manor in an hour, so I’ll leave you to get back to your customers,” Gwendoline said abruptly, as if she had said too much and wanted to make a break for it.
“Thank you for coming by. I really appreciate it,” Faye said, suddenly awkward.
“You’re welcome, and thank you for bringing my son around more often.”
Faye wasn’t sure what to say, so she offered her a polite smile.
Gwendoline hesitated by the door, letting in a few new customers. “Stop by the Manor if you ever need anything; you’re always welcome.”
“Thank you,” Faye said gratefully.
Gwendoline let the door close behind her, and Faye fixed her apron and returned to work. Greeting the next customer, she realised she felt lighter thanks to Gwendoline’s advice, even though their experiences were different. Pain and grief were the same, no matter how they manifested.
Suddenly, it occurred to her where she might find Peter. There was one place he couldn’t avoid today.
Later that evening, Faye found herself at Peter’s grave in Foxford Cemetery.
Gwendoline and Benedict had already left some offerings.
She carefully placed the box of cupcakes on his headstone, a small gesture of remembrance, reading the dates.
It was hard to believe it had been ten years since he had died.
They’d been only sixteen, and she vividly remembered how grief had enveloped the town.
Wiping away the tears, she recalled that Peter’s had been the first funeral she had attended, along with Lucy and Rosie.
She was relieved he wasn’t here to see her so emotional.
He was already dead, yet selfishly, she didn’t want him to leave her world.
A few kisses didn’t make a relationship, but she couldn’t shake the intensity of her feelings.
Maybe it was because he made her feel hopeful, safe, and even excited about life again.
It felt wrong to admit that around death, she’d never felt so alive.
“You’re not crying over me, are you?” Peter quipped, suddenly sitting on the headstone with the cupcakes on his lap.
“Peter! You scared me to death!” she snapped, wishing he would stop with the jump-scares. Her nervous system was on tenterhooks as it was. Still, his unexpected presence brought her a strange sense of comfort. She’d guessed he might be here.
“You’re in no better place for it.” He winked, taking another bite of the cupcake.
Faye rolled her eyes, trying to hide her amusement as he got frosting on his nose.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the change in his appearance.
His hard lines had been smoothed out and his stubble was gone, replaced by a baby face that hadn’t yet been shaved.
The football jersey and jeans threw her; she hadn’t thought he would be wearing the clothes he’d died in.
“You’re staring. You aren’t going to cry again, right?” he asked, looking down at his own grave as though to avoid eye contact. Clearly, he was uncomfortable being seen this way.
“No,” she lied. “It’s just the flowers making me sniffle.”
“Right, the flowers.” He clearly didn’t believe her. “Thank you for the cupcakes. Most people leave flowers. I don’t think they realise the dead still love a chocolate treat.”
“Happy to fill the gap,” Faye said, unsure what else to say.
“Are you a little freaked out? Seeing me this way?” He motioned to his younger form.
“No, but it feels like stepping back in time.”
“It doesn’t freak you out that you’re standing on top of me?” Peter asked, pointing to the plot of earth.
He was trying to spook her on purpose, but he wouldn’t get rid of her that easily. “I thought you’d like me being on top,” she teased.
He choked on the cupcake, and she bit her lip to stop laughing.
“At least I know you’ll always be here, even when you pull one of your disappearing stunts,” she added, putting him out of his misery. She hadn’t known his ears could turn so red.
“That’s cold.” Peter clutched his chest.
“You could never scare or freak me out.” Faye bridged the gap between them. “No matter what form you take. You forget I’ve seen real evil. In fact, you’re the one thing in my life that doesn’t scare me. I know what that says about me – being in death’s company comforts me – but it’s true.”
“Way to make death feel like a fluffy Easter bunny,” he mused.
“If the shoe fits.” Faye sat down on the headstone beside him.
“I get the feeling you’ve got something else on your mind.” Peter put the cupcakes down on his other side so nothing was between them. He rested his hand beside hers. She moved her hand a tiny fraction, so their pinky fingers barely touched.
“Gwendoline came into the café today. She wanted to check on me after last night.”
“Really?” Peter’s brow furrowed. “That was… nice of her?”
“It was, but to be honest, my heart nearly stopped when I saw her. I thought she might have found out about me breaking into the temple, or about—” Faye cut herself off. They hadn’t yet spoken about what happened between them, and maybe today wasn’t the best time.
“Or about?”
“Us. Benedict mentioned to her that you might be with me today. That you find it hard to stay away from me.” Faye shuffled closer to him. Despite the summer evening, the cemetery had an eerie chill that crept through her bones.
“He’d be right about that; he was probably looking for something to distract her from today.”