Chapter 31 #3
“Again. Okay? Let’s try that again. You can do it.
In through your nose, two, three, four.” Her words are soft, and I fix my eyes on the lift of her chest, willing my breathing to regulate with hers.
A broken exhale shudders out of me as I break the surface, then another, the second clearing my vision.
“Good. Now another time. In, two, three, four, and hold.” I follow her lead, exhaling along with her until Cassie comes into clear view. Her brows are pinched, eyes red-rimmed as tears stream down her beautiful face. I grip her hands, the only things keeping me above water.
It takes a few more rounds for my lungs to work and my heart rate to steady.
Slowly, my surroundings come into view, piece by piece.
The fire, haloing Cassie in its glow, Mutt at my feet, ears standing at attention, the deck we’re sitting on, the forest behind my house and silver moonlight rising above the trees.
“Are you with me, Liam?” Cassie asks as a hot tear drips from her chin onto our hands.
With another deep breath, I jerk my chin in response. “Yeah,” I croak, taking in another deep breath. “I’m here.” I’m so close to the end. Not much further and Cassie will see me for who I truly am. No matter what it takes, I want her to hear the entire story. Even if it breaks us.
“I was going to ask her to marry me, and instead I watched her die in the rain.”
The silence that descends is deafening. I wish I could pry open her head to see what she’s thinking. What does she see when she looks at me now? I think about the words Julie’s dad said at the funeral, and I wonder if Cassie thinks the same. If she agrees, at least I’ll know.
“The funeral was three days later. It’s a blur. Her parents handled everything and Julie was buried wearing the ring she never got to see. But what happened after the service is stamped permanently on my mind.”
“What happened?” Cassie asks hesitantly, her voice shaking.
“I was standing there, watching the workers shovel dirt onto her casket. Nothing about it felt real, like I was seeing things from the outside looking in. Someone stepped up next to me. Julie’s dad.
I don’t know what I expected him to say.
Maybe a hand on my shoulder? A shared moment?
But when I met his eyes all I saw was anger, close to rage.
He looked me dead in the eye and said I should have canceled.
Rescheduled when I saw how bad the weather was. ”
And what he said next has lived in my head every single day since. The thing I’ve never told a soul.
“He said ‘My daughter would still be here if you’d just canceled.’”
The words hang in the air, heavy and final and I can’t hold back any longer. Tears stream, unchecked down my cheeks.
Cassie makes a broken sound and she’s sliding onto my lap, taking my face into her hands. But I can’t look at her. It’ll break me if she agrees with him.
“The worst part is that he was right, Cassie. He was fucking right. And now I have to live with that.”
Mind racing, I think about what life was like after that.
It took months for me to go back home. I stayed with Mom and Dad in my stupid childhood bedroom.
When that didn’t work, I headed to Nashville.
I channeled my pain into anything that might help me forget.
Night after night was spent buzzed, this side of drunk, sleeping with women I chose not to remember.
Anything to dull the pain. Remembering was too hard, and losing myself felt like the kinder road.
Guilt eats at me like battery acid. Burns through everything I used to be until some days I don’t know what’s left. It’s been that way every day since her funeral.
“Liam,” Cassie says, forcing my face to hers. “Look at me. Please.”
With a deep breath, I do.
“What he said to you? That was his grief talking. A father grieving the daughter he’d just lost. He was looking for somewhere to place blame.
But he was wrong. Julie was an adult who made her own decisions.
” Her eyes are fierce now, twin infernos holding mine.
“You loved her and wanted to celebrate a future with her.”
“But I should have canceled,” I choke out.
“Maybe.” Cassie shrugs, still not letting me look away. “Or maybe that accident would have happened another day, on another road. There’s no way to know. All I know is it wasn’t your fault and carrying this guilt, letting it destroy you, is not honoring her memory.”
The words crack something open in my chest, something that’s been locked tight for years.
“I don’t know how to let it go,” I whisper.
Cassie leans forward, resting her forehead against mine.
“Maybe letting it go isn’t the point,” she whispers.
“This grief you feel, right here”—she lowers one hand from my face to my heart—“you still have so much love left to give. Grief is all of that love with nowhere to go. It’s okay to feel it.
But maybe the key is learning how to live with it, without letting it consume you. ”
A quick pause, her breath warm against my skin. “And you don’t have to do that alone anymore.”