16. Archer
Chapter sixteen
Archer
The day after Jessie's Funeral
D ear Seb,
Jessie's gone. Jessie's gone. Jessie's gone. Jessie's gone. Jessie's gone. Jessie's gone. Jessie's gone.
FUCK!!!! No matter how many times I write it, it still doesn't feel true.
Jessie.
My fucking best friend, my brother.
He's gone.
Last week we were standing inside the building, talking about our plans to surprise Tilly with her dream bakery, and now he's…he's just…gone.
Why!? Why does everyone that matters to me die?
There's this ache inside me that won't let up, a constant reminder that I'm…alone. I couldn't save either of you. I failed.
My eyes burn like I've rubbed sandpaper all over them from how much I've cried. Fuck, I just want this pain to go away. I want my best friend back. I want you back.
The minute I heard Shantel's panicked voice on the phone, I knew something happened. An aneurysm. A stupid fucking blood vessel that popped in his brain overnight took my best friend. Losing you was heartbreaking, but I was able to tell you that I loved you. I was able to say goodbye because in my own way I knew I was losing you. He left me.
He left her .
Tilly.
God, Seb.
Getting the phone call and not being able to run to her was torture. If we'd still been close. If I hadn't driven a wedge between us because of my own stupid feelings, I could've been there for her. How could I try to console her with words of comfort when for the past few years I made it a point to pretend she was inconsequential to me? I was am a coward.
His funeral was yesterday. It wasn't much different than yours, except instead of doctors filling the room, businessmen crowded in beside each other. They memorialized Jessie with tales of mergers and takeovers, things that didn't fucking scrape the surface of who he was. He wasn't some suit who ate thousand-dollar meals and jetted off to tropical islands every chance he got. He had Sunday dinners with his family. Played poker better than any card shark I know.
He was the best fucking friend in the world.
He saved my life, and I didn't even have a chance to save his.
It's stupid to pray for a sickness. I know that. But why couldn't he have needed a fuckin' kidney or something? Something I could've given to him. Repaid him in some way for everything he's done for me.
Hell, I would've taken his place if I could've. My life isn't worth anything. I'm a carpenter. Whoop dee freaking do. He was meant to change the world.
At the wake, I sat beside Nora. Three chairs away from Tilly. She was dressed in all black with her arms wrapped around her. Jessie's coworkers offered their condolences with awkward smiles to the family. My entire body ached with the need to punch something, to rage and throw things against the wall. But I'm supposed to be stoic, the strong man not allowed to cry. I don't have you. I don't have Jessie. And the one person I want to grieve with hates me. Rightfully so.
How could he leave me when we had so much life left to live? So many more things to experience together?
How could he leave her?
Tilly's vacant eyes didn't leave his casket the entire service. I wanted to hug her and tell her we would get through it. Jessie did that for me when you died. But something held me back from approaching her. Nora confided in me that Tilly didn't want to be touched. Every time someone touched her, she screamed. Tilly was always affectionate. I used to call her Touchy Tilly to mess with her, even though I secretly loved it when she'd playfully hit me. Nora called it something like touch aversion. I had to Google it. It tears me up to know she's hurting so bad she can't be touched. I wish I could say it was that knowledge that held me back, but the truth is, I knew I'd be the last person she'd ever want comfort from.
I've done nothing but cause her pain.
Fuck man, I don't know what to do. I've made sure to be around for Nora and Shantel for whatever they need help with, but what can I do for Tilly? She won't answer phone calls or texts and she hasn't left the house except for the funeral. I drive by every night and sit outside, trying to convince myself to knock. I doubt she'd open the door for me, and if she did, I have no clue what I could say that would even touch the depth of remorse I feel for treating her so poorly that she feels she can't turn to me during this time.
In college, I promised Jessie I'd back off in his pursuit of Tilly, but yesterday I made him another promise as I stood on the loamy soil where they laid him to rest. I told him I'd find a way to make things right with her. I just don't know how. This chasm between us feels too deep to fill with apologies that should've come years ago.
I wish I could ask him what to do. Fuck. I wish both of you were still here so I wasn't alone.
Take care of him up there for me. And tell him I'll do my best to take care of his mom and sister, and that I'll make sure our his girl gets the bakery of her dreams.
-Arch