Chapter 42
AMARA
I’m in my dorm, scrolling on social media, when I see it.
I haven’t talked to Natalia in a long time. Not since Cooper just stopped talking to me, leaving me in the dust.
I’m not sure if it’s because I wish she’d reach out to me, or because I know that the second I talk to her, I’m going to ask what happened, but it hurts my heart all the same.
“Oh my god,” I whisper.
My roommate stirs, her head whipping up. “What’s up?”
They couldn’t have told me?
Tears spill down my cheeks as I open the link, reading the obituary.
“My best friend’s grandpa passed away,” I tell her, my shoulders slumping the more I read.
Kennith A. Henry passed away in his home with his grandkids at the age of 85.
Born and raised in Dewey Beach, Delaware, Kenneth attended high school, where he met the love of his life. He loved going to football games, walking on the beach, and hanging out with his friends.
Kennith loved his two grandkids fiercely and was elated when his grandson, Cooper Henry, was accepted into Notre Dame on a football scholarship.
He was blessed to have his granddaughter, Natalia, with him in his final years, helping make his life as normal as possible.
Kenneth was well-loved by his community and will be deeply missed.
Kenneth was predeceased by his wife, Lily, his brother, Fred, and his daughter, Ellen. He is survived by his grandchildren Cooper and Natalia Henry.
A viewing will be held at Miranda E. Cole Family Funeral Home on Thursday, December 12th, from 4 to 7 pm.
The tears flow freely.
I’ve missed so much, and I, as much as I hurt for myself, just hope that Cooper and Natalia are okay.
It’s also the first time I’ve heard of Cooper going to Notre Dame for football. I just hope that Grandpa Kenny was able to watch him for at least a little bit.
My fingers work before I can stop myself, and I click on her name.
Natalia picks up on the second ring, her voice tired.
“Hey,” she says.
“I’m so sorry,” I tell her, unable to hold back my sobs.
Her voice breaks as she comes apart, too.
“He told you?”
I’m confused. “Who?”
“Cooper.”
“Cooper hasn’t talked to me in years,” I confess, and Natalia sucks in a breath, but I find it hard to believe she’s that surprised.
“Oh.”
“I saw it on social media,” I add quietly, a pang of anger hitting me again.
Natalia clears her throat awkwardly. “I’m sorry, Amara. I wish it were different.
I do too.