71. CHARLOTTE
71
A fter hanging up the phone with Julie, I kept walking, trying to process my thoughts, until I found myself walking through the gates of the cemetery. The freshly cut grass seems to calm my nerves a bit as I head to my mother’s grave. I crouch down, reading her name while my fingers brush along the cold stone.
Elizabeth Roux.
There’s a fresh bouquet of pink roses put in the vase in front of the headstone that isn’t mine, and it warms my heart that there are still people visiting my mother’s final resting place.
I let out a deep sigh, wiping away the final tears, looking up at the sky.
“Hey, Mama,” I start, a sad chuckle escaping my lips. “I fucked up. I fucked up big time, and I don’t know what to do.”
My eyes land on the pink roses.
“The last few weeks have been terrifying, realizing I didn’t want whatever I had with Ben, but as much as I love my time with Hunter—it also terrifies me. He can break me, and he almost did before.” I keep quiet, my hands in my lap, silently wishing she’ll give me a sign.
When I left LA almost a year ago, I was broken. There was a part of me that was relieved. I found the strength to tell him how I felt once more, combined with pride that I took the risk of putting my heart on the line. But as I offered him my heart, he didn’t have the courage to grab it, and it felt like it turned into ashes in the palms of my hands. I got back into that cab feeling ten pounds heavier than when I arrived, already adding to the weight I’ve been carrying since the funeral, then I called Julie to tell her what happened. My throat was aching from crying, and I started sobbing again while telling her everything. By the time I came home the next morning, my tears dried up, and I was left with a throbbing headache and a hollow feeling inside. Feeling like I just lost the most important people in the whole world.
In the same month.
I understood, and felt the finality of it all, and it was consuming me with no clue how to keep going. At some point, I got out of bed, started eating again, and did my best to feel alive. It took me a while, but after a few weeks, I got my routine back and found ways to get out of the house. I was able to push the hurt to the back of my mind, because he was on the other side of the country, and I wasn’t confronted with him all the time. Other than the shit in the media that I heavily avoided. I was able to find joy in the memories Mama and I had, while also breaking down by the emptiness she left around the house. It was my own personal hell that I crawled out of until I met Ben.
Suddenly, he gave me a reason to smile again. A reason to do more than just eat and sleep my way through life. I was even able to convince myself that I fell in love with Ben after a few dates.
But Julie is right.
I have been in love with Hunter since the first day we met, and even though I wanted to move on so badly, I knew it would always be a struggle if he ever reappeared in my life. That wasn’t going to happen, though. Because he was engaged, he had nothing to come back to North Carolina for, and his life was in LA. There was no way he was going to settle in Braedon and contact me again after everything I said to him.
And then he did .
“I wish you were still here, Mama,” I whisper into the waft of the air.
“I had a feeling you’d be here.”
My head snaps to the side, and I’m met by Hunter’s regret-ridden eyes, his hands tucked into his jeans. Gone is his confidence. Standing in front of me is the troubled teen he was when we first met.
I look back in front of me, my eyes roaming over the letters of Mama’s name.
“Someone bought her fresh flowers.”
“I know. I did.” He moves a little closer, and I look up at him, peering down at me with a kind smile.
“You did?”
He nods with a hum, my brows creasing together in question.
“Your mom sent me a letter, you know?”
“A letter?”
He hums again, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
“It was sent to me by her lawyer, six weeks after you left LA.”