Chapter 41
LEVI
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
I was never more of a coward than I was on this day, and no matter how many years had gone by, that never changed. But instead of facing it head on, instead of telling my siblings why this date hit me the hardest, instead of admitting I was the reason Mom was dead, I slunk away. Always hiding away in my workshop until they dragged me from it.
And this year was no better.
I’d slipped out of bed this morning, leaving a sleepy Harper looking like a fucking angel lying there nestled in my sheets. I’d left her without a word, without even a fucking note, and headed straight to my workshop because I’d been unable to do anything else.
It was the one and only place I could hope to get an ounce of reprieve from the overwhelming weight of grief that rested on my shoulders today. Though, it hadn’t been just the workshop that had quieted my thoughts lately. Harper and the distraction she provided had been an unexpected respite.
But it didn’t matter where I went or who I was with because nothing could silence them today.
My phone buzzed with an incoming text, and I glanced over at it, already knowing who it was.
Addison:
Beach at 5
Rather than the usual stream of absolute bullshit that followed any single text, my brothers were silent, our mom’s death weighing heavily on each one of us.
For years now, we’d done our own thing during the day before meeting up at our mom’s favorite spot on the beach in the evening. Those first couple years, facing the reminder of what I’d done and what I’d taken from my family ate me alive. Especially when the six of us would sit in the sand, nothing but silent tears in the space between us.
As the years had gone by, things had changed, shifted. Where once we’d been silent, in the past few years, we’d begun to talk, to share, reminiscing about our favorite memories of Mom.
And that was just as painful as the silence.
Because while I wanted nothing more than to remember her, I knew that remembering her meant acknowledging what we’d lost. What I’d stolen from everyone.
Several hours later, after I’d sanded boards until my hands were raw and blistered, the door to my workshop opened, the sound of heels clicking on the concrete floor filling the space. I knew Addison wouldn’t come out here—not today. So that left only one person, and my heart both sank and soared at that realization.
I glanced up as Harper came into view, her eyes brightening and a smile sweeping over her mouth when her gaze landed on me. It was a sucker punch to the chest—this beautiful woman I was lucky enough to call mine. For as long as she’d allow.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
She tipped her head to the side as she regarded me, a furrow between her brows, no doubt from my lack of greeting. But that didn’t stop her from walking right up to me, slipping her hand around the back of my neck and tugging my face down to hers.
“Hi,” she said against my lips before brushing hers over mine. The kiss was slow and sweet and so tender, it made my fucking heart ache.
I hadn’t said a word about what today was, and yet somehow she knew something was off.
“Hey,” I said when she finally pulled back, wanting with everything I had to both draw her close and shove her as far away as possible.
“I thought I’d get some pictures like we talked about.” She ran her gaze over me, snagging on the rough state of my hands. “But I’m sensing maybe today isn’t the best day to do that. What’s going on?”
I shook my head and avoided her eyes, unable to get the words out. “I’m not really in the mood to talk about it.”
As if I was ever in the mood to talk about it.
Harper studied me for long moments, her gaze scrutinizing but concerned. And I was the last person who deserved her concern. “All right. No pictures. So, what are we doing today?”
Relief swept over me as I exhaled a heavy sigh, unsure how I got lucky enough to have her, not once, but twice in my life. This amazing woman who accepted me, all the rough, jagged, and wrecked pieces of me. And instead of trying to find a solution, instead of telling me what to fix, she just settled in and sat down beside me, weathering the storm by my side.
“There’s some place I have to go,” I said, my voice low and rough. “And I’d love if you came with me.”
She darted her gaze all over my face, no doubt reading the emotion in my voice and wondering what the hell was going on. Finally, she nodded once and slipped her arms around my waist, hugging me tight. “Then that’s where I’ll be.”
Every step I took closer to where I knew my family would be felt like walking to the gallows. Harper held my hand, squeezing twice when my siblings and their significant others came into view, the ten of them sitting in a group along the shore.
Luna sat between Brady’s thighs, her back against his chest, as he buried his face into her neck. Avery was perched sideways on Aiden’s lap, whispered words shared between them. Beck and Ford were clustered together with Everly and Quinn, respectively, nestled against their sides. And Addison sat tucked in the protective cocoon of her husband, Chase’s legs drawn up and his arms wrapped around his knees with her in the middle.
This was the first year it was all of us, the family ours had grown into spanning more than just my brothers and sister. It now encompassed not only the people I loved more than anything, but those they loved, too.
I lifted my chin in greeting to everyone, unable to say a word, and dropped down onto the sand, tugging Harper along with me. She came willingly, leaning into my side as she wrapped her arm around me, her hand a comforting presence against my back.
Having her here felt like cracking my chest open and laying it at her feet. I’d never had someone else share this with me. Hell, none of us had. And though it was scary to know she was going to witness my pain, I couldn’t deny how relieved I was to have her here with me by my side. Her presence alone was a support I hadn’t known I’d needed.
“Remember how Mom used to wake us up on school mornings?” Ford asked, amusement in his tone. “If we didn’t get our asses up when she said, she came barging in, flipped on the lights, and had a dance party in the doorway. She blasted that fucking music as loud as possible, so not even Levi could sleep through it.”
As chuckles sounded from everyone else, a memory slammed into me. Mom bursting into my room while “Livin’ on a Prayer” played at a volume the guests staying in cottages could have heard.
“And when dancing around didn’t work, she’d jump on the bed until you had no peace left,” Beck said.
“She never did that with me,” Aiden said.
Brady lifted a brow in Aiden’s direction. “Probably because you’ve been running your own schedule since you were six.”
“What about when she let me play hooky so I could help her plant flowers in all the cottage planters? Did that really happen, or did I make that up?” Addison asked, her voice quivering.
Sometimes I forgot how young Addison had been when we’d lost Mom. She might’ve only been two years younger than me, but she’d been just a baby then. Hadn’t even graduated high school yet. So many of her memories with Mom had been lost with time.
“Yeah, little D,” Ford said. “That happened.”
The five of them continued sharing memories, most of them happy, but with every word out of their mouths, the knife plunged further into my chest, the evidence of the life I’d taken from them too blatant to ignore.
I wanted to speak up, to ask them if they remembered how Mom used to sing along, loudly and off-key, to every song that came on the radio, or how she’d always make whatever we wanted on our birthdays, no questions asked. But the words got stuck in my throat.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that I didn’t deserve to participate in her remembrance. Didn’t deserve to recall the happy times when I was the reason they were gone.
I was the reason my siblings no longer had a mom.
I was the reason my future niece or nephew wouldn’t get to experience her as a grandma.
I was the reason we gathered here every fucking year to remember the most amazing mom in the world.
Harper’s hand was a steady presence on my back, grounding me when it felt like the grief was trying to pull me under. Those constant thoughts of, “Why couldn’t it have been me? It should’ve been me,” a never-ending vortex in my mind.
During the time my siblings had been recalling memories, their voices an uninterrupted cadence interspersed with the crashing waves, something shifted. Their happy tones turned into low murmurs, and unease swept through the group.
I glanced over to find them all staring off to my right, their mouths agape. For half a second, I had a fleeting, ridiculous thought that it was our mom. That somehow, even though we’d buried her, she was here. Had decided to show up after eleven years without her.
But I knew that was just my mind trying to protect me from the reality. It was why it took me so long to turn my head and glance to where they were looking. And it was why the man standing there didn’t immediately register.
At least not until Brady said, “Now’s really not the time, Dad.”