Chapter Eighteen #2
“He talks about you,” I whisper. “All the time. Like you’re still in the room.
When I hear him say your name, it makes me feel like you might come back, Josh.
It’s like I’m somehow closer to you. And it’s so nice, Josh.
He’s the only person I can talk about you with and not feel like I have to manufacture something they want to hear. ”
My fingers won’t stay still. I rub them against the side seam of my jeans, hoping that will satisfy them.
“I’m more confused than ever with that man.
The words he says to me… I—I don’t know if it’s just me being the stupid little sister with the big crush or if there is any part of him that finally feels for me the way I feel for him.
” I take a deep breath. “And then, right when I let myself give in to the intoxicating delusion, I think maybe we just miss the version of us that existed when you were alive.”
I continue rubbing my fingers against my jeans. “I don’t know if it’s real, Josh. I don’t know if I’m making it up in my head, or if he’s just… honoring you. Like some twisted promise to look after your little sister because you can’t anymore. ”
The thought twists sharply in my chest. “But when he looks at me,” I whisper, “every nerve in my body lights up. It’s never been like that with anyone else, Josh.
He’s never touched me, never even said anything that should make me feel this way, but still, it happens.
All those stupid feelings I had for him come rushing back.
I’ve tried to forget him. I’ve gone out with other men, searching for that same feeling, but I can’t find it.
No one makes me feel the way he does just by looking at me. ”
I put my hand on the stone, pressing my fingers into the grooves of his name until it almost hurts.
“I just wish you were here to tell me I’m not screwing everything up. I can’t trust myself to make the right decision, to see things clearly.” A tear rolls down my cheek. This time, I don’t wipe it away. I let it slide down my jaw and land on my knee.
“I went out with Margo tonight.” My voice hitches. My hands scrub at my eyes. “She left early. Said she wanted to go be with Anderson. And she didn’t even try to hide it. She wanted to be with the guy who loves her.”
I pause, trying to take another deep breath to slow my thoughts. Although I can’t seem to breathe right.
“I want that. I want someone who shows up when you ask. Someone you don’t have to beg. How come I’m never good enough for that, Joshy?” The tears begin to roll steadily down my cheeks. My chest hurts with them.
I dig around in my purse until I find the bottle. My fingers, numb from the cold and barely functional, but I manage. I twist the cap off and take a burning swallow, then tip a little into the grass.
“For you,” I mutter. “I know. I know. It’s the cheap shit. You’d give me so much crap for that. But my options were very limited.”
I set the bottle down and lean forward again, pressing my forehead to my knees, letting the weight of it all finally settle.
I know the grave won’t answer me, but it’s the only place left that still feels like he might.
“I miss you, Josh.” My throat closes up around the words. “I don’t know who I am without your help. I’d kill for your advice right now. Hell, even just one of your dumb jokes. I’d even take a sign of what I’m supposed to do next. Do they let you give signs up there? I promise I’ll listen.”
I stare up at the starless sky, while the cold air presses down around me, and I let the time tick away.
I can hear the wind slide through the trees nearby.
The sound is almost relaxing. I stay where I am, curled up against the cold stone, because it’s the only thing holding me upright at this point.
I don’t know how long I sit like that, breathing in the stillness, but eventually, I hear footsteps. I don’t know how he found me, but I should have known he would eventually rescue me here. He knows when I’m teetering too far on my own.
I keep my eyes on the grass. My fingers are buried in it, yanking up a few blades, twisting them until they snap. My chest tightens in equal parts relief and frustration. And no matter how much I want to push him away, I can’t stop my shoulders from relaxing when he is standing in front of me.
“How’d you know I was here?” My voice is rough, raw from crying or maybe the Tequila.
Rhett’s boots scrape closer. “Margo asked me to check on you,” he says, lowering himself onto the grass next to me, “since she bailed on you at the bar.”
“I didn’t tell Margo I was coming here.” I swipe at my cheek again, dragging my sleeve across wet skin.
He sits still for a moment. He is close enough that our shoulders brush, and like it always has before, my skin pricks at his proximity. I can feel the heat where we touch. When his hand settles on my thigh, it’s barely there, so careful it feels like he is afraid I might shatter.
“I know,” he murmurs.
I keep my eyes on the grass rather than looking at his face. It seems to be the safer option out of the two.
“I went to the bar,” he continues, leaning back slightly, pressing one hand into the earth. “And you weren’t there. The bartender thought you went home, given how drunk you were, but I knew better.”
“How?”
He glances at the shadows between the trees. “Because, despite what you say, I know you, Sunny, and I knew you wouldn’t go home. And if you weren’t with Margo, or at the bar, there was only one place left you’d be.”
His thumb brushes my leg this time, and I have to fight the urge to ask him to hold me.
“You didn’t have to come.”
“I know that.”
I remain silent, afraid of what will come loose. Emotionally, I’m already beaten down enough to spill even my deepest secrets. Then add the Tequila to it, and I’m bound to put my foot in my mouth. So rather than do that, I stare out at the cemetery.
“Talk to me, Sunny. What’s going on in that big, beautiful brain of yours?”
I feel him shift closer to me as he rests his back against the stone.
“I don’t know who I am anymore, Rhett,” I whisper. “And I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m not stupid. I can see Ben doesn’t care about me. And I keep trying to make it work. For what? Out of habit? Fear? I don’t even know.”
I look down and then back up to him. “I don’t recognize the girl I am. Or the life I’m stuck in. I don’t know where it all went so wrong, but I used to be unafraid to be me. I used to be loud and unfiltered and…” I let out a sigh. “Me.”
I force myself to laugh, but it comes out empty.
“And to top it all off, as if I’m not already down for the count, the universe decides to play a joke on me.
Just when I think I’ve sorted everything out, you show up.
And suddenly all the stuff I thought I’d left behind is back, staring me in the face… ”
“I’m unraveling,” I whisper, voice breaking. “I’m doing everything wrong, and I can’t fix it. And all I can do is be pissed that the one person I need was taken from me.”
“You’re not unraveling,” he says, voice steady. “But even if you were, you don’t have to do it alone. And yeah, I’m pissed too.” I know he misses Josh just about as much as I do.
“Why do you care so much?” I swallow hard. “Why’d you come here?”
“Because you’re Rachel.” His answer is immediate.
I blink at the grass. “Being Rachel has never been enough, Rhett.”
He stays still, jaw tight, hands curling into fists on his knees, holding them that way for a beat before unclenching, forcing himself soft.
I continue before he can try to convince me otherwise, the words cracking as they leave my mouth. “Clearly, I’m not. I try, and I try, and people still leave me. I’m still told I’m too much or not enough.” I shake my head and finally look up at the sky, but there is nothing up there for me.
“I tried to be,” I go on. “For Ben. For my parents. For Margo, after Josh died. For everyone. I’ve twisted myself into so many versions of what I thought people needed. What I thought they wanted from me. Along the way, I lost the girl I loved being.”
I clench my hands in my lap until my knuckles ache.
“And somehow, even with all of that, it’s still not enough.
My parents are gone gallivanting around the world because they can’t cope with losing their favorite child.
Josh is dead. Margo has someone who sees and puts her first. And Ben…
Ben barely acts like he wants to be around me.
I’m left here, and I can’t seem to find my way back to that girl. ”
He exhales hard. I see it hit him. His eyes are dark, his jaw tight, like he wants to fight someone. Or maybe just shake me until I stop talking. But the truth refuses to stay in.
A shuddering breath escapes me. “I bent myself into what everyone needed me to be, all because I was so desperate to be seen. I don’t want to be too emotional or too loud or too nice.
I just want to be enough. It’s pathetic.
Even like this,” I wobbly gesture to myself, “even trying to practically force myself on him tonight, Ben doesn’t want me. I’m fucking pathetic, Rhett.”
Rhett moves without hesitation. Before I can hide my face in my hands, his hand finds mine, and he slips his fingers between them.
I finally glance at him. His expression hasn’t changed much, but his eyes burn. They look furious in a way that’s barely controlled.
“And I hate that the person who could fix this all isn’t alive anymore.”
His thumb moves slowly along the back of my hand. “I’m sorry, Sunny. I wish I could bring him back for you.”