Chapter 24
I’M HONORED YOU CAME TO ME
The Light by Album Leaf
Natalie
“Do you think we need to do an event for back to school? We’re running out of time,” I tell Ellie, who not only works some shifts but also manages my social media.
“Already on it.” She shows me her plan, a very detailed outline of what’s to come, and I love it. The doorbell chimes, and I look up to welcome them, but words don’t come out when I see Holden standing there, looking completely destroyed.
“Um, I—”
She must see the turmoil threatening to come out, because she says, “Go, go. I can stay four more hours. My sister-in-law has the kids today, and Cal’s picking them up to take Theo to a birthday party.”
I only see understanding behind her eyes, either after she saw how devastated he looks or by the way my entire body reacted. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, go. I’ve got this.”
It feels like miles before I get to Holden, and when I do, right here, up close, it’s even worse than I thought.
His eyes, usually honey and gold, whiskey and joy, are red-rimmed and full of pain.
Without thinking, my hand touches his face, his stubble brushing my fingertips, and he exhales.
His breath caresses my cheeks, and it’s not until now that I realize how close we are to each other.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he whispers.
“Is it a harder day?” It’s the same question he asked me the day I was falling apart in my home. He huffs.
“Okay, let’s go.” I pull him out of the store, straight to the corner store, where I pick up a pint of ice cream, and then I practically drag him to the park across the street, straight to the bench where we shared a moment and talked.
We sit side by side, sharing the space while I allow him time to do whatever it is he needs at this moment.
I want to do for him what he did for me when I was losing it over my porch.
I take the lid off the ice cream tub and offer him a spoon, which he takes, digging right away into the blue ice cream.
“I thought you said this was radioactive,” he finally jokes when I take a bite of the disgusting flavor.
I swallow, stick my tongue out, and shake my head. “Yeah, my case still stands. This is gross.”
That earns me a laugh, and I beam with pride. I don’t know what’s going on, but whatever it is, at least he’s smiling, even if for a second.
Time passes slowly and fast all at once.
I watch the birds sing and fly away, the squirrels playing, and a few parents chasing toddlers.
I watch the clouds shifting and will the nonexistent breeze to blow on my face, because it’s hotter than hell today.
I didn’t plan on stepping outside for more than getting to my van when I got dressed today.
“Thanks for this.”
“I don’t know if you need to be thanking me for tinting your stomach blue, but sure, no problem.”
He laughs again, and suddenly, I realize I might be addicted to it, the way the sound seems to come from deep in his belly and carry all the way to his full lips.
How his glasses-covered hazel eyes wrinkle at the corners, almost kissing his cheeks; how he can’t seem to be able to contain his feet from kicking.
I want to figure out how to make that happen again and again.
“No, really, thank you. I needed this.”
It hits me right now that I really wanted yesterday to be a date. I didn't realize until this moment that I like him—a lot. Because when he said he needed this, I kind of wish he said he needed me.
“I aim to please.” I smile, my cheeks surely blushing, if the heat I feel rising to them is any indication.
He opens his mouth, speechless, and oh my God.
“No, no, not what I meant. Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like that. I just—”
“It’s okay. Breathe, Beauty.”
I bite my lower lip absentmindedly, and that makes me flush again, so I shake my head and try to talk about anything but the way I’m freaking out right now.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“You spiraling right now?” he jokes, pulling an eyeroll from me and making me feel like Bella when I try to be a smartass around her.
“No, you jerk. Whatever made you so sad a little bit ago.”
His face turns somber; surely, my words are taking him back to that moment, and I hate myself for it. For bringing him pain. For reminding him he wasn’t all happy and cheerful less than half an hour ago.
“Does it ever hit you that you won’t ever see Nick again?”
His question is a blow straight to the heart.
I’m never taken aback by anyone mentioning Nick; he was so loved and cherished in this town and by our friends, I hear his name often.
But something about Holden calling my late husband’s name, about Holden leaving space for Nick to exist between us, whatever this is, is really emotional, for lack of a better word.
“Mm, it does. Often, actually. It’s the worst part about losing him suddenly. I said goodbye when he was stepping through our front door to go to work, not paying it any attention, and then I never got to see him alive again. And I never will.”
He blinks rapidly. “How are you so good at putting your feelings into words?”
“It’s funny you say that, because I actually don’t think that’s the case at all.
I’m always spiraling, always trying to express beyond tears what I’m feeling.
But sometimes, I have to talk through Bella’s feelings, and it ends with me explaining with facts.
Missing him is a fact I don’t think will ever go away. ”
I don’t want it to go away. I’m terrified if it does, it means I don’t love him anymore, but that’s not the case.
“I miss them, today more than ever.”
“You’re allowed to.”
“I had to tell him about Liz being his daughter today. He didn’t know.” Oh man, his dad.
He waits for me to put all the pieces together and continues, “He assumed Mom remarried, and watching the light leave his eyes was harder than I thought it would be. Watching him grasp at every word I shared about how Liz used to be was even harder. I didn’t realize how much I missed her until now.
And Natalie, I do—miss her, that is. A lot. ”
“Do you want to talk more about her, or do you want to change the topic?” I ask, sliding my spoon back in the ice cream and leaving it there.
He chuckles when he sees I’m not eating anymore. I bite my lower lip in a shy smile and shake my head. “I’m not eating that, but have at it. I got it for you either way.”
“The only thing I know right now is that I miss her and Mom, and it’s not fair they died, and I’m still here.”
“Don’t say that.” He’s taken aback by the harshness in my tone.
“You deserve to be here. Whatever happened to them sucks, life sometimes sucks, but you didn’t do anything wrong.
” He lowers his head to look at his knees, but I take his face between my hands, urging him to look at me.
“Your death would not bring them back. You leaving will not bring them back.”
He searches my eyes, and I hope he can find what I’m trying to convey: truth and acceptance.
“I killed them,” he mutters. “They died because of me.”
At this park, surrounded by strangers, I feel like my lungs deflate and my heart leaves my chest.
“Explain. I know I can’t demand anything, but I need you to explain now.”
I drop his face but take his hands in mine. Every time I touch him, I feel this bizarre yet addictive connection I can’t explain. If he feels a sliver of that for me, I want him to anchor himself to it.
“My team was playing one of our biggest rivals in Jacksonville, and that year, we finally had a chance. We worked hard to get to where we were, and we felt confident about it. Looking back, I don’t even know why I was so focused on winning that particular game.
Was it worth it? To spend the majority of my time training for it? We all want to win, but at what cost?”
I nod, drawing small circles on his wrists, letting him know I’m here.
“Because we were so close to home, Mom and Liz came to watch me play. They drove an hour for it, like they always did. They never missed a game if they could help it, and because they always did, it wasn’t anything special that they were coming to this specific game.
Except it was. Liz had won a volleyball tournament the week before, and apparently, some scouts came to see her. ”
He breathes out and closes his eyes before continuing.
“We won. And I was so happy. My team was going to celebrate, and some of my friends were giving me a hard time because I wanted to go out with Mom and Liz instead. I told them I would go out for a bit before heading home to them. We were standing outside the arena when I told them, and Liz was pissed. She was so disappointed, and I couldn’t understand why.
Mom eventually convinced her to let me celebrate with my friends, and they left.
I promised to make it up to them, turned around, and went back inside. I never saw them again.”
Here’s when the questions invade my mental space, but I don’t want to ask or speculate. I don’t have to, because he continues.
“They were driving home and got hit head-on by a drunk driver. He was unscathed. They were gone. It was instantaneous, they said. Nothing they could’ve done.
I didn’t even know until hours later, until after I left my friends and went back to their place.
If I would’ve gone with them, they would still be here. ”
“Oh, Holden, you don’t know that.”
Holden lifts his glasses while he wipes away a tear. “I do know. They would be here, and I wouldn’t be this broken. I wouldn’t miss them so much. They would be here.”
He traces his hand over the tattoo peeking through his shirt.
I dare to raise it, sliding the sleeve up and finally taking a full look at it.
A vine with three shoots going up his arm, unfinished.
A few leaves are attached to them, six, to be exact.
He follows my touch with his eyes, swallowing hard as I touch each one.
“Three lives lost that day.” He traces the shoots with his fingertips. “Theirs, never to be seen again, and mine as I knew it.”
I don’t want to ask about the leaves, because something tells me it has to do with it too. “A leaf for every year they’re not here and I get to continue living my life without them. How selfish of me.”
I hold his face again, this time with more conviction, letting him know I see all of him. “No. You’re not selfish.”
My assertiveness may surprise him, but I don’t let it deter me. “You are not broken. It wasn’t your fault. It was an accident. A terrible, shitty accident, but it wasn’t your fault. Do you understand me?”
He doesn't acknowledge my words; instead, he leans his head to my touch and closes his eyes. I wish I could take all his pain away. I wish I could make him feel better, but sometimes, we must feel it all in order to move on. Except for this guilt—he needs to get rid of it.
Guilt is like these vines. It starts small, and it grows and grows, tangling itself in everything it touches. If you leave it unaddressed, it can take over everything and leave you wilting.
“Holden, I need you to repeat it.”
His impossibly brown eyes snap open wide.
“Say it wasn’t your fault.”
He shakes his head, his jaw tense as he bounces his gaze between my eyes.
“You’re allowed to hurt. You’re allowed to miss them. You’re allowed to be angry, and you are most definitely allowed to remember them, but it wasn’t your fault. Your brain is lying to you.”
He sucks in a breath, a tear landing on his mustache.
“Say it.”
“It wasn't my fault.” His broken whispers carry between us.
“Say it again.”
“It wasn’t my fault.”
“Again, but mean it this time.”
He swallows hard. “It wasn’t my fault.”
He closes the space between us, landing his head on my shoulder and wrapping me in his strong arms.
Then, he cries.
It’s not like I would’ve thought this tall, broad man who looks like he could kill you with his stare and his strong hands would cry.
This is an I feel seen cry. This is a five year of hurt cry.
This is a boy who grew up in a place where he couldn’t be in fear of his dad, who had to grow up too fast to help his mom, and now, he can finally let go.
I rub his back, drawing circles and communicating without uttering a word. I let him feel I can be here and steady for him, in this moment at least. I let him know with every second that passes that he doesn’t have to put on a strong face for me. He can breathe. He can let go.
I’m not sure how much time passes, but it’s enough for the ice cream to melt and the birds to fly away. It’s long enough that he feels bad for stealing me away from the shop, and even if he’s not saying it, I can see it in his eyes.
“I don’t really care about time, Holden. You needed this, and I’m honored you came to me.”
He smiles oh so softly, holding my small hand in his giant one, walking us back to the store.
“I’m gonna go compose myself before practice tonight.”
“You do that. Big day, huh? Last practice before the first game on Friday?”
He holds his neck, nodding. “Yeah. They’re ready.”
“I can’t wait to see.”
He squeezes my hand. “Goodbye, Natalie.”
“See you later, Holden.”