CHAPTER 37
Reed
I n the first week of May, I find the courage to do something that is overdue by almost three decades. Something I never felt the need to do until I met her.
My parents’ tombstones sit next to each other in muddled soil. Cold, dirty, immobile. Maybe a tree with long branches would do this gloomy corner more justice, but even in death, they don’t deserve such kindness.
I once read that cemeteries are places where people go to find peace and tranquility. Where they feel closer to their loved ones who have passed, and the veil is thinner. But looking at my parents’ names, forever engraved in rock, I don’t feel any of those things.
Before I got here, I thought resentment would take over at the sight of their tombstones. Hatred or even sadness. But standing in front of the place where my parents rest—hopefully, they aren’t doing much of that—I feel nothing.
They don’t deserve my emotions anymore.
Ginny sniffs around my feet and lies down on a patch of grass when she doesn’t find anything interesting to play with.
The plan was to see their tombstones and leave. That was it. I wasn’t planning on opening my mouth and speaking to the nothingness in front of me.
“I met someone,” I start, unsure of what I’m even doing. But for once, I don’t fear it when my heart takes the lead. “She’s an amazing woman. So fucking smart. So generous. So beautiful, she takes my breath away. I’d never been in love before her.”
Silence greets me.
“And I threw it all away,” I conclude. “Because of you.”
I’m also not expecting my words to feel like a lie.
I frown to nobody, because nobody is here but Ginny and me. Weirdly enough, I feel the need to explain myself.
“You ruined me,” I accuse a pair of ghosts who aren’t here to listen. “You abused me, put me in danger, and scarred me forever in countless, cruel ways.”
They were heartless abusers, both of them. They taught me that love is a dangerous thing, that I was to blame for everyone’s pain.
“You said I would never be able to take care of anyone,” I keep going. “But that isn’t true—I took care of myself better than you ever did. And I’m taking care of her.”
I glance down at Ginny, who looks up at me with her tongue hanging out from her mouth. This little furry thing has shown me unconditional love in a way I never thought I’d experience again from a pet. Because, after what happened to Daisy—after what my parents convinced me I did to her—I didn’t think I’d ever deserve it.
Ginny is the savior I never saw coming. Taking care of her and loving her gives me a purpose every day.
So maybe my parents were wrong all along.
“I’m here.” I swallow back the unexpected lump in my throat. “Even after all you did to me, I’m still standing. I’ve made a life for myself—one I’m proud of. You don’t define me.”
A cold gust of wind hits my face. I keep talking.
“I will always hate you for what you did to me, but I refuse to let you take any more space in my life,” I say into the nothingness. “I thought you’d broken me, but Lila showed me the real me was just locked away. I won’t let you kill me while I’m still breathing. I survived you once, and I will keep doing it.”
Ginny whimpers, glancing between me and the tombstones. I crouch to scratch the spot she likes behind her ears and find myself smiling as she licks my hand.
“I love you, little one. You know that?” I tell her as the puppy keeps licking away. “I hope I’m being a good dad to you.”
Her tail starts wagging, which I take as confirmation. Carefully, I pick her up and cradle her against my shirt as I take one last look at my parents’ tombstones.
I already know I’m never coming back.
It’s taken my heart thirty years to understand it was never my fault. A child is never responsible for their parents’ fuckups or for the bad things that happen to them. And I owe that child still living inside me forgiveness and patience.
As I get Ginny in the car and drive back home, my thoughts drift to the woman I haven’t been able to forget in the past six months. Because none of this changes the fact that I lost Lila and I’ll never get her back.
And it hurts. It fucking hurts like nothing I’ve ever experienced before to lose the one person I wanted to make mine forever.
Because Lila is mine. Not in a possessive way, but in the sense that she’s my everything.
I should’ve known better than to cross so many lines when I was aware of the consequences. The last thing she needs is for me to come back and make things even more complicated. She deserves to shine again, and she won’t do it next to me.
A second realization hits me as I stop the car in my driveway—I will never love anyone ever again. Not in the everlasting, consuming way I love her.
Maybe it should anger me, make me feel scared that now that I’ve finally discovered my heart isn’t broken, I won’t get to use it again. But just the thought of loving someone who isn’t Lila makes me so sick, I discard it immediately.
Ginny hops out of the car using her three little legs and follows me home. As I shut the door behind us, my phone buzzes.
Fully expecting it to be a work email, I ignore it and check on Ginny’s food and water bowls.
My hours at the youth center have significantly increased in the past few months after I left my job as a researcher. It was about time that ended, anyway. I won’t lie—I would’ve liked to see the project through. That was the plan all along, but I also can’t bring myself to regret my choices.
Not when my choice was Lila.
What matters is that the project will go on without me, and those kids will get the funding they deserve. As for me, I’ve grown tired of hopping between research labs when my calling is to work directly with children. So, in a way, this was the push I needed to reconsider the future of my career.
And while I could never regret my choices, I’ve finally recognized that I got involved in so many projects, tried to tackle too many jobs at once, because I was trying to fill a void. If I was always on the go, busy and in demand, I didn’t have time to dwell on everything that was missing from my life.
I’ve now significantly cleared my schedule, and I prioritize spending time with Ginny, Liam and Warren, or Haniyah. Checking my work email when I don’t have to is no longer something I rush to do.
But after a quick shower, when I decide to check my notifications, I see it was never that.
My heart stops, and I briefly wonder if I hit my head and I’m just seeing things. First, I talked to my dead parents in the cemetery, and now this?
The text is still there when I blink, and it doesn’t disappear minutes later.
It’s real.
Lila: Hi. How’s Ginny?