39. BODI
39
F or most of my life, I’ve been in control of my life, my mind, and my body.
I know what to eat to stay fit. I know how to function to keep my mind sharp. I know how to run my business. But for the last six days, I don’t know shit.
My mind has been living in this constant fog and every muscle in my body feels numb. When I walked down the street this morning, I wondered if I would feel anything if I got hit by a car, because after my dad died, my senses seem to have died with him.
I blow out a raspberry, looking at the line of people who are here to pay their respects for my father while I stand next to his casket like a fucking zombie. My hands stay folded in front of my body, my gaze vacant as I let my thoughts drift me away. The ceremony was nice, or so I have been told about six times now.
I didn’t listen to a thing. I just stared at the stand, failing at registering a word everyone was saying.
I close my eyes when someone comes to stand beside me, slamming his hand on my back in a friendly gesture. I don’t have to look to know who it is.
“Thank you for being here.” The sentence just rolls out of my mouth on auto pilot, because Jensen, Jason and Hunter have been staying with me for the past week.
They helped me out wherever they could, and as much I’m sure they wanted to talk about more than just my dad, they haven’t brought up Kayla once.
Jensen studies my profile. “How are you holding up?”
“Fine.” It’s the only word that pops into mind that doesn’t feel like a complete lie. For the last few days, I’ve been floating in purgatory, not feeling bad, not feeling good. Fine seems like the perfect word to describe it, but Jensen silently disagrees as he exhales loudly.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to see who it is.
Kayla.
She’s been calling me every day since my dad died. I’ve ignored her every single time. My heart is dying to pick up, knowing she’s the only one who can make me feel anything right now, but it’s also what I fear the most. I need to keep my distance.
Especially now.
Jensen shakes his head from the corner of my eye.
“Why are you not answering your phone, man?” The tone in his voice is filled with disappointment, sounding exactly like the voice in my head.
The one that’s asking me what the fuck I’m going to do self-loathing, and the one that’s scoffing at me, telling me I’m a moron. But the wall of fear around my heart is preventing me from picking up that phone and begging her to come back to me. It’s solidified, rooted the day my dad died. It’s too strong to break down, even if I did make an effort.
“I don’t want her pity,” I grunt.
“I haven’t said shit since I picked her up from the airport two weeks ago.” Don’t start now . “But this is bullshit, Bodi. She just wants to be there for you. Your dad died, and even you told me they hit it off. You can at least answer your fucking phone.”
“If I answer that, I’ll give her hope,” I spit, venom in my eyes. “I’ve ruined her enough to not give her anymore hope.”
“I get that you don’t want a relationship. It’s bullshit, but I get it. But I thought you two were friends.”
“We were.” In a short period, Kayla became my best friend, but before I realized, I blinked and she was so much more. She was everything I wanted and everything I feared.
“Bodi,” Jensen says my name with reprimand, contempt audible in every letter.
“It’s over, Jensen,” I hiss. The last thing I need is to make a scene at my father’s funeral, but him bringing up Kayla has me quickly raging like a madman.
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“Yes. It does,” I bark at him before I cut the conversation short and reach out my hand to one of my father’s childhood friends. “Brent, thank you for coming.”
Brent takes my head, shooting me a coy smile. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Bodi. Your father was a great man.”
“He was.” I hold Brent’s hand in a tight grip while Jensen flies beside me, walking out of the venue where Hunter the past. It’s filled with memories that will never compare to the real deal and they feel like a waste of emotion.
“Maybe. Are you flying back tonight?” Deflecting, it’s what I’ve become a star at and, to my surprise, everyone lets me get away with it. Probably because they all feel sorry for me. I can hear it in every single word they say.
Poor little Bodi.
Poor little orphan boy.
Which is fucking stupid because I’m a grown ass man. I own a multi-million-dollar company. I’m set for life. But inside I’m like a lost little boy, roaming the streets in loneliness.
“Yeah.” Lucas nods. “He’d be really proud of you, Bodi.”
“I know.” I don’t, but I’ve learned in the last week that it’s easier to just give the words they want to hear. To tell them what they want in order for them to leave me alone.
“I’ll call you in a few days.” He slaps my back. “Don’t be a stranger. Come to Maine.”
“I’ll think about it.”