Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Zedediah
Iraise my eyebrows when I hear the announcement of Melinda’s sudden mission work.
Right. I’m sure that’s why she was leaving, not because of what I walked into earlier.
I push off the pew and walk out without sparing Fenris another glance.
He’s not dumb enough to say anything, at least not right now.
Jonah would give me so much shit if he saw how Cat had my mind in shambles. But now I understand what he felt for Lucy and why he did what he did. I’d do the same if I couldn’t ever look into Catarina’s pretty green eyes again.
The leaves are making loud crunching noises beneath my boots as I walk to the graveyard.
The sun’s beginning to set, and the deep golden light shines through the tree branches, lighting up my path just enough to see a lone daffodil growing.
I watch the bugs scurry from the disturbed dirt as I bend over and pluck it just before reaching the shed sitting at the corner of the shoddy, gated graveyard.
It was always the star of the show. It’s always been our place. Where the three of us would meet and experience each other. Where Jonah first told me he loved Lucy. Where I realized my love for her too, but not in the way I—my mind stops. I love Catarina.
I’ve never said that to anyone. But I do. I love her. Everything about her. They would’ve loved her. I wonder about the dynamic us four could’ve had. Lucy would’ve adored Cat, that much I know.
It’s quiet out here, the kind of quiet that makes you feel like the trees are listening to you. I make my way over to sit by Lu’s tombstone, feeling the cool, wet soil seep through my jeans.
Sera Lucille, 19
I run my fingers over each cold, engraved letter, cleaning out the dirt from each one. My throat starts to close when I look at the small cross beside her. Fenris wouldn’t allow him a tombstone. “Why would I waste money on a tombstone for someone who didn’t even cherish his own life? Why should I?”
I used a branch from Pete’s Tree to make it—the tree Jonah and I used to climb when we were growing up.
I needed for them to be together, even if it was only in spirit.
I chuckle. He would’ve hated that it’s a cross, which is exactly why it’s a cross.
I was hoping some signal would be sent out and his soul would be so angry that he’d come back.
With him would come all of the answers to the questions I wasn’t able to ask.
Although, there is one question that’s been answered.
The why. I wouldn’t go on living without Cat.
I couldn’t. I used to be so angry with him.
I would come out here and scream, not giving a damn if anyone heard.
You could’ve told me. There’s not a me without you both, either.
I can’t help but question the what if. One simple decision could’ve altered my here and now; maybe I wouldn’t have met Cat and she would be left here alone.
I look at my plot, a bare tombstone I added.
I wanted to make sure I had one in case anything happened to me and Jonah came back.
That way he’d have a place to mourn. But after the third anniversary passed by, I accepted that Harold was right. He had committed suicide. Watching what my Father, and those ordered by him, did to Lucy broke us, but he couldn’t go on.
“I met someone. I—” My voice breaks, and I feel tears start to fall down my face. I don’t bother suppressing them or the sobs that plague my body. “I understand now. I understand why you left.” I use my sleeve to wipe away the tears and snot.
“Jonah, forgive me. Please.” I look at the faded patch of grass around his marker, my eyes taking in the red dirt showing through.
I know Fenris’ words and actions were meant to cut me, and they did.
But to be met with the reality of it when I’m here, sitting with the shame of all of it.
It’s nearly too much. This tiny plot is a silent warning.
Don’t be weak. Don’t love too much. Don’t hurt.
Don’t, or you’ll rot here—the same as his ghost. A choked sob racks through my chest, and I close my eyes while hot tears stream down my face.
The wind blows against my face. In the silence of it all, I don’t hear or feel forgiveness.
I look back to Lucy. It used to make me sick knowing her bones were buried beneath the dirt.
I refused to come here for the first year because it felt so wrong being here without them beside me—alive.
But one day I just woke up and realized I was letting him win.
I was letting Fenris and his actions keep me from grieving them, from missing them, and from honoring them.
I decided that day that this place was still our place, it was just going to take a new meaning. But, I found the same peace.
Something I’ve had to learn is that the pain doesn’t go away, you just make space for it. I lay the daffodil against her stone and laugh to myself. “Lucy, you would love her. She has the same fire you did.”
“I’m not sure of her love for Halloween, though. I’ll make sure to ask her and report back.” The ache comes sudden, a pain I had forgotten to brace myself for. But I hold it down as best I can.
“He won’t get to her. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you.” The moon replaces the sun during the time I just sit here, existing with my friends. Enjoying our time.
The temperature drop causes chills to spread up my arms, and I decide it’s time to head back. Stopping by my room, I change my dirty jeans and head toward the auditorium.
She isn’t there yet. I know because I saw movement through her window. I quietly push the doors open and step inside, moonlight cascading in through the stained windows casting shadows across the pulpit, the pews, the altar.
My body is wound so goddamn tight that I’m pacing back and forth. I should not be as worked up as I am. I’ve been in situations where I should’ve felt like this, on edge, strung up, and ready to snap. But this is all her.
I look toward the pulpit, knowing exactly where I’m going to place her first. My head jerks toward the doors when I hear the door begin to open, and the thrum of my heartbeat speeds up.
When she walks in, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to hold myself back, but honestly I don’t want to, and I know she doesn’t want me to either.
Maybe tonight I can stop pretending there’s a line I’m not willing to cross. I’m going to ruin us both if she’ll let me.
Maybe even if she doesn’t.