Chapter 21 #2
She cups my cheek, her touch soft, the kind of motherly affection I’m not used to. It's unfamiliar, but not unwelcome.
“You're stronger than ye know, love. And don't ye ever forget—you've a family with us now.”
I find myself leaning into her palm before I even realise I’m doing it. She catches it, a knowing smile tugging at her lips, and instead of commenting, she simply passes me a plate.
“Millie didn't wait,” she adds lightly, “but she made sure to leave ye the biggest slice. That child is quite taken with ye.”
I accept the cake, blinking hard as emotion fogs my vision. I don't blame her, cake is the best.
“Also, that mother of yours is a very difficult woman, to put it kindly. If ye ever need space or peace, there's a spare room here. No questions asked.”
A sudden burst of noise rises from downstairs—laughter, shouting, then the unmistakable crash of something meeting its untimely end.
Moira exhales sharply, already gearing up to bash some heads together by the looks of it. “I’d best go see what those eejits are at now. Grown men or not, a bit of sugar and they're worse than children.”
She gives my cheek a fond pat as she passes. “Come down whenever you're ready, love.”
I remain where I am, turning once more to the wall of photographs. All of them were taken by him.
Elijah Reed Lawson.
The man I used to hate.
We park up outside the house, the engine ticking softly as it cools.
I’d been quiet the whole drive back, wrapped up in my own thoughts.
River is staying the night with his grandparents, and Rose…
Well, she's not here again. I don't understand why she just won't move out when she's barely around as it is.
Under different circumstances, I’d be all over Elijah, dragging him inside and taking advantage of the opportunity of an empty house. But instead, I feel a little unmoored.
Today was beautiful. His family welcomed me without hesitation, like I belonged there.
Somehow, that warmth only made me miss my dad more.
Still, there's pride sitting right next to the ache I feel. I did something today I thought I’d completely given up years ago, back when I was juggling jobs and spending every spare moment taking care of my dad.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Elijah’s turned in his seat, relaxed as ever, elbow propped on the wheel. His hand drifts down my arm, and my skin prickles.
“It's a bit of a mess up here,” I say, forcing a small smile as I tap my temple. “Might take more than a penny to untangle it.”
“We've got time. You've been quiet. Did today… overwhelm you?”
“No—no, it was perfect,” I rushed out, brushing my hair back nervously. “Your family… they're amazing.”
He waits for me to continue.
“I’m just an overthinker.”
His hand slides over mine, and just like that, the tension in my shoulders eases. “If your brain's too full, talking might help. I’m a good listener, promise.”
I take my bottom lip between my teeth. “Okay, this is dumb, but the first thing that popped into my head—I think you're beautiful.”
Cue immediate mortification. I groan and bury my face in my hands. “Not like ‘pretty girl’ beautiful. I mean, I just really like your face.” Oh my god. “Totally ignore me, please.”
Elijah chuckles and pulls my hands down. “Ignore you? Naah, I like hearing how pretty you think I am. Especially since I happen to think you're gorgeous too.”
“I don't need to keep feeding that ego of yours,” I chortle, nudging him with a smirk
“Too late. Just knowing you want this old man? That's all it needs.”
I shift in my seat. “Good thing for you, I like older guys.”
“Even better for you,” he replies, leaning just a fraction closer, “that I like bratty girls.”
I stick my tongue out, and his face lights up, half of it bathed in the soft glow of the lamppost. Shadow and light play across his features, and for a second, I forget that this thing between us is wrong.
Reaching for my phone, spinning it slowly in my hand. “When I left the studio today, I was buzzing. Excited. Proud of myself for signing up, and usually, when I have good news, I call my dad.”
Elijah watches me quietly, his expression soft but curious.
My dad was always the first person I turned to with everything—no matter how small.
Whether it was getting nominated for the school council or being picked to choreograph my first dance competition, he was the one I called.
Even the time I stood up to that bully in primary school, he was the first to hear about it.
His cheers were always the loudest, bursting with genuine excitement, which made him truly stand out from everyone else.
Now I can't tell him. When all I want to do is pick up the phone and hear his voice one more time.
“You wanted to ring him.” It's not a question.
“For a moment, I forgot he's gone,” I admit, my voice tight. “And then, just as I was about to call… I remembered. Is it silly that I miss his voice?”
“No baby,” he murmurs, thumb brushing lightly over my hand. “It's normal to miss it. Do you have any videos of him?”
I swallow hard, the knot in my throat tightening. “I do, but I… I can't bring myself to watch them.” I press my phone to my chest, the screen lighting up with a photo of him—grinning goofily, me pulling some ridiculous face.
“I don't exactly know what it's like to lose someone so important, and I get that looking back at memories might feel overwhelming. But maybe it could help. Even if it's just a little.”
I sniffle, forcing myself to swallow before the tears fall. River is the only one I've ever let see me like this.
“I’m worried,” I croak.
His touch is soft. “About what?”
Tears stream down my face, hot and relentless, as a crushing pain lodges beneath my ribs.
“What if I forget his voice? The little moments we shared? What if all I’m left with is the haunting image of him in his final moments?
" A sob escapes, raw and jagged. "How… how do I keep moving forward when the person who has been my entire world is gone, Elijah?” The dam breaks, and I can't stop the flood of grief that crashes through me.
Without a word, Elijah is there. He undoes both our seatbelts, and in one fluid motion, he pulls me against him, holding me close. My body curls into him, clutching at his shirt like it's the only thing keeping me from breaking entirely.
He rests his chin atop my head and just holds me. No words. No questions.
Just him.
His heartbeat beneath my ear is a steady anchor, and the warmth of his body seeps into me. I cry into him, shuddering, allowing every bit of pain to pour out.
“You’ll never forget him,” he whispers, his voice a gentle balm against the wound in my heart.
“And you’re not meant to. He’ll always be a part of you—woven into the very fabric of your being, shaping the way you love, the way you persevere.
I can’t take away the pain, and I wish more than anything I could…
but you don’t have to bear it alone.” I cling to him, my grip tightening as if he could somehow shield me from the world’s harsh edges.
“Grief isn’t something you simply overcome.
It’s a path you learn to walk, one step at a time.
Some days will be harder than others, and that’s okay.
Whatever you need—whether it's to cry, to find laughter in the sadness, to have space to breathe, or just to sit silently together in the dark—I’m here. ”
I wrap my arms around him, and he accepts my desperate hug, offering a safe harbour for my tears. Letting him see my deepest sadness feels safe because I know he will never give up on me.