30. Fallon
Chapter thirty
Fallon
It’s half past noon, and I’ve only ventured out of this bed once. To pee. I really thought I was prepared for today, but I guess grief hits when it wants to hit.
This morning, I avoided texts from Corbin, my parents, Rhett’s parents, Cara, and Jeb. The only person I texted back was Shay to tell her I wanted to be by myself.
If Rhett were still alive, we’d be in Montana. My bridesmaids and I would be having our hair and makeup done, listening to country radio, and giggling about plans for the honeymoon. I’d gaze out the expansive bridal room windows and admire a field of wildflowers that give way to mountains as far as the eye can see.
I would sip a mimosa in a white robe embroidered with my new initials, debating what shade to paint my lips.
I’d wonder if Rhett would send a letter or a little gift to my room. I had planned on gifting him a boudoir album. Of course, I never even had the chance to hire a photographer.
In my thoughts, the day would be gorgeous. Sunny but a few clouds to keep the heat at bay. A slight breeze. Rhett in a black tux. He’d have his hair swooped to the side like he always wore it, and he’d fidget with the button on his wrist as I walked down the aisle, his eyes misting.
We’d kiss and dance all night to anything from classic rock and country to hip hop and oldies. I’d take my rhinestoned boots off halfway through the reception, dancing barefooted the rest of the night without a care in the world.
The pictures would be beautiful, and everyone would rave about the ranch-style food for years.
With the lights off and the curtains closed, sobs tangle with screams, and my pillow takes most of the brunt, just like the night I found out about the accident. A future with Rhett is something I can only daydream about now.
I’m not even sure how long the day goes on like this. When my head starts to ache and my tears subside, I recognize the signs of dehydration. My stomach constricts, and I don’t know if they are hunger pains or pain from the accidental ab workout I did while crying.
I chug two cups of water straight from the bathroom sink and open the large curtain to the balcony, changing my mind as soon as the sunlight blinds me. I order room service before I hop in the shower and let the water wash away the tears as they flow anew, not sure I will even eat the food.
There are a thousand chapters in the manual of life that aren’t written. What to do on the day of your planned wedding that isn’t happening because your fiancé is dead and you find yourself in a different country with your friend is one of those missing chapters. Navigating this day has me torn between what I should do to honor Rhett and what I need to do to keep my sanity.
Google’s no help, either.
I almost feel like I’m ready to lie on the beach and plan out the next steps to move forward. Is it too soon? Would Rhett expect me to be sad a little longer? Single a little longer?
Today is one of those dates that is significant to my healing. I can feel the internal shift, just like I did the day I moved out of our old house.
The wedding date is just another proverbial line in the sand. Once I get through it, I know I’ll feel lighter. Life will be a tad bit less draining.
I'm like a rag doll being pulled from both arms, my old life on one side, my new life on the other. Sadness over a canceled wedding and a dead groom on the one hand, being in a tropical oasis with my friend on the other. Wanting to be a hermit, and wanting to try new hobbies. Crying my eyes out, and finding happiness.
My mind spins.
My heart aches.
I miss Rhett and our old life, but that life is long gone. And I’ve known that for a while. No amount of tears can bring him back.
When room service knocks after my shower, I open the door, ready for the woman to hand me a tray with my Sprite, cheeseburger, and fries. Instead, she has the tray of food and a large navy-blue gift bag. I assume the bag is for someone else until she hands it to me.
“Oh, sorry, I only ordered the food.” I point to the tray.
“This is for you, too,” she says. “Fallon McCann?”
“Yes, that’s me. Thank you,” I take the bag and put it inside the door before grabbing for the tray. I shut the door behind me and place the tray on the counter. If the gift bag is for me, it’s probably something Shay sent.
I reach inside and pull out a bottle of lavender lotion, a package of face masks, an exfoliating sugar scrub, a blue-and-white-striped romper, and a pair of white sandals tied together with a white ribbon. I check the tags—medium on the romper and size 8.5 on the sandals—both my correct sizes, so they should fit perfectly.
It isn’t until I reach into the gift bag and pull out a bag of Starburst jelly beans that I start wondering if this gift bag is from Shay at all. At the bottom is a little teddy bear holding a heart in front of his belly, and a card.
With shaky hands, I flip it open. There’s sloppy, mostly uppercase man-writing all over both the inside pages and the back of the card.
Fallon, I hope these gifts give you a little joy, even if it’s just a small smile or squeeze of your heart. I am probably sitting at home thinking of what today could have been for you and what it is instead.
I know you don’t want to hear the words anymore, but I am so so sorry for the pain I’ve caused you. I am so lucky to know you and so grateful to have you as my friend. If you want to call me, I’m here. Whether you might want to cry or yell at me. I’m here.
If you don’t like or want any gifts, feel free to toss them in the trash. I don’t want any of the gifts to make you feel bad or anything. I don’t know if I’m overstepping as it is.
With tears in my eyes, I flip the card over to read the back.
Rhett’s death has weighed heavy on my heart for a long time, but now that I’ve had the chance to get to know you, at least I know he died a happy man. He had to be if he was on the receiving end of your love. I hope you spend the day thinking about the man you love and the great times you had together. -Jeb
I ugly-cry while shoving the burger into my mouth, tears seeping into ground beef. My body feels stuck in a time warp where I don’t know how much time has passed. It seems like a lot, but it also feels like there is not enough time to process my thoughts.
He had to be if he was on the receiving end of your love. I hope you spend the day thinking about the man you love and the great times you had together.
I read and reread the card a dozen times through blurred lenses. Blinking clears my vision, but only for a split second. Jeb is so good to me. His heart aches so badly from the accident, and he’s been at war with himself ever since. Such a kind man to cause such a devastating accident.
I choke my food down, knowing I’ll feel sick later if I don’t. One singular teardrop falls onto the letter, making the small -Jeb distort and reshape into a smudged heart.
I grab my phone to call him, his contact photo on my phone is one of him kissing a fish. It makes me smile every time.
“Hey, Fal.” His breath stutters, and he seems winded.
“Did I call at a bad time?”
“No, just walked outside. I’m on the deck at your house.”
A smile breaks across my face as I picture Jeb at my house while I’m sitting in a hotel room by myself. Even though Shay is here on this island, I feel less lonely knowing he’s in my space.
“Oh, how is everything there?”
“Good,” he says. “Corbin brought the cats back over, so I’ve been getting used to them.”
“Is he there now? I thought I heard voices in the background.”
“No, probably just the TV or the kayakers on the river. How are things at the resort?”
“Better now that I got your package. I’m about to eat the jelly beans for dessert. Thank you so much. How did you even manage it? And the note you left me… Jeb, I have no words.”
“The resort staff helped me some, and they were happy to put everything in a bag. Shay had the letter, but she wasn’t sure if you wanted to see her today.”
“It was really wonderful, Jeb. Like one of the best cards I’ve ever gotten.”
“So, you want to talk about it? The wedding, I mean? How you’re doing today?”
“Well, you know the details. I’d be in Montana right now. Probably taking pictures after the ceremony.”
“I wish you were doing that,” he whispers, as though it pains him to say it.
If I were married, I wouldn’t know Jeb. I wouldn’t need to know him. I get it. I do. But I am thankful I got to know him. He’s changed my life in more ways than one.
“Tell me about your vacation.” He changes the subject when I sniffle at his last sentence.
I describe the room and the view. I tell him about Shay’s many meetings and how I was able to get a few designs finished on my laptop by the pool. I fill him in on Shay staying out late and hanging out with her work friends, and how I’ve watched a lot of movies. Most of the things, we’ve texted about, but on the phone I’m able to give more details.
“Well, I guess I’ll get off the phone and let Shay know I’m still alive. Maybe I’ll see if she wants to come to my room tonight,” I tell Jeb after thirty minutes.
“Have fun, Fallon. I’ll send you a picture of the cats. They went straight to your bed. They’re happy to be home.”
“That’s how I’ll feel when I get home, too!” I chuckle. “Hey, Jeb, one more thing. In the card, you wrote that Rhett had to be happy if he was on the receiving end of my love. How do you figure that?”
“You pour your heart and soul into everything you do, even your friendships. You never made me feel less than, even though it would’ve been totally acceptable if you had. As a friend, you teach me new ways to be a better person every time I’m around you. If you give this much of yourself to your friends,” he pauses, “Rhett had to have felt your love so strong. He was a smart man. I know because he proposed to you. He was smart enough to want to keep you and have a life with you.”
My voice catches in my throat. He always knows the right things to say.
“Thanks, Jeb. That means a lot to me. I’ll text you later.”
“I’d like that, but don’t feel like you need to. You do you today.”
Once I hang up, I snuggle under the covers and flip through the channels until I land on Moana , never calling Shay or texting anyone else back. They can wait ’til tomorrow.
Dreaming of marriage, your wedding day is the first day of the rest of your life. Hope for the future is abundant. Love is rampant. Jovial. Stoked. Fulfilled. Lucky. Fortunate. Enchanted. Smitten. The adjectives surrounding nuptials run wild.
In my case, I feel none of those exuberant adjectives today. Quite possibly, the opposite. Scared. Nervous. Grief-filled. I wonder what today could have been like if only…
With grief, it’s always the what-ifs that sneak up on you. They come out of nowhere and slam into your body like a bullet train. Waves of itchy skin that you want to rip off and scream Why me?
As completely shitty as it sounds, I’m excited for tomorrow. I can’t help but feel like today is the last day of wedding what-ifs. I no longer have to worry about hitting it again, this bench-marker of my life.
In my journey to grieve, I’ve counted down the months, the weeks, and the days until the non-wedding. The oddly peaceful feeling I get when I close my eyes and dream of a new future washes over me.
Tomorrow’s a new day.
I made it this far. I made it so far. For the first time in a long time, I genuinely feel at peace.
I’ll always miss Rhett so fucking much, no matter what.
My first love won’t be my last love—and that’s a hard pill to swallow.
The idea of living my life without feeling guilty toward something I have no control over is freeing. Rhett’s life ended, but mine didn’t. I have to remember that when those tough days of grief grab my mind and won’t let go.
I don’t want to feel bad about trying a new hairstyle (one Rhett never got to see on me) or doing a hobby by myself (one we used to do together).
I’m growing as a person, and Rhett isn’t. I’m making memories without him, and that’s weird and scary as fuck.
I throw back a couple of Advil for this splitting headache, and amidst the tears, I make a promise to myself. It’s okay to be uncomfortable. It’s okay to want to make new memories. To try new things. It’s okay not to hold back because I feel like I’m cheating on a dead man.
Yes, cheating on a dead man. That’s my life right now. It’s silly, but it’s true.
Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life. But for tonight, I’m going to convulse and wail into my pillow, draining my body of tears. I’m going to feel sorry for myself on a tropical island and not give a shit. Fuck Rhett dying.