Chapter 32 - Jensen
—
Jensen
The cemetery is cloaked in darkness, despite the sporadic street lights along the path.
I’ve only been here a handful of times, but I find my way easily enough.
Kasey’s headstone sits at the top of a grassy hill in an area reserved for veterans.
Two small American flags stick out from the grass, and there’s a small, slightly wilted bouquet resting at the base of the stone, most likely left by Sutton on a recent visit.
The sight of those flowers, of the engraved letters spelling out my best friend’s name makes my throat bob as grief wraps around me, squeezing me so tight it hurts.
Shoving a hand through my hair, I swallow hard, aching to hear my best friend’s voice.
“I need you, Kase,” I choke out the words.
“I know I don’t have any right to ask, but I need you to tell me that it’s going to be okay.
I need you to talk to me like you’ve done before. ”
If there’s anyone that can help me make sense of things, it’s Kasey. “Talk to me, please.”
I suck in a breath and listen. A warm breeze rustles the leaves of the trees nearby, but there’s no answer. No voice in my head, no whisper on the wind. There’s only the still quiet around me.
“Dammit, Kase. You’ve talked to me before, and I need you to do it again.”
I wait, desperate to hear him the way I have so many times before.
“Please,” I beg, my voice cracking. “I miss you so much and it’s all my fault that you’re not here.
I’m so sorry.” I can’t keep the words inside me.
“I don’t know how to make it right. I wish it were me .
. . it should have been me. I’m just so sorry. ”
I sink to the ground, my bad knee screaming with pain, though it’s nothing compared to the feeling inside my chest.
“I’ve done it again,” I whisper, tears rolling down my cheeks.
“Callie’s in the hospital right now, and I’m the reason she’s there.
I don’t know if she’s going to be okay and if I lose her .
. . ” A sob erupts from my throat, and I wrap my arms around myself as another follows and another.
“I can’t lose her, Kase. Please, you have to tell me it’s going to be okay. ”
There’s no answer.
It hits me then, the truth I’ve known but haven’t wanted to face for the last four years.
My best friend is gone, truly gone, and there’s nothing I can do to bring him back.
It’s heartbreaking and devastating and I let myself feel every single bit of it as tears rush down my cheeks.
I cry for the man I’ve been the last four years of my life, for the way I tried to push Callie away and almost missed out on the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
I weep for the way there will always be a Kase-shaped hole in my life and for the future with Callie that I so desperately want but am terrified I’m going to lose.
I let myself feel it. All of it. The grief. The pain. The guilt. The regret. The joy. The hope. Every piece of it, I let it all out.
It’s only when I’m completely spent, that the words float over me, the voice steady and sure. But it isn’t Kasey’s.
It wasn’t your fault.
I straighten, swiping at my face. This voice is as familiar to me as my reflection. It’s my own. Clear and unmistakable.
It wasn’t your fault.
Instinct urges me to argue, but I can’t. I hadn’t realized until now that the voice I was most desperate to hear from wasn’t Kasey’s. It was mine.
It wasn’t your fault.
It wasn’ t my fault.
That declaration settles over me, taking root in all the places were it aches, wrapping around all of those broken pieces inside me.
Finally, finally, I understand.
What happened to Kasey was a horrible, awful tragedy. An accident. One that I’ll wish I could change every day of my life, but I can’t carry this anymore.
I can’t let the shadows keep me imprisoned forever. I can’t keep punishing myself, not for what happened four years ago and not for what happened today. I have to let it go and move forward.
Callie told me I’d find it eventually, the strength of a river, like the ones that carve their way through the mountainsides, but I don’t need that kind of strength. I just need her.
Whatever happens, no matter how much time I get by her side, it’s worth the mountains and the valleys and everything in between. She’s my home.
I inhale and exhale slowly, the breath moving through my lungs with gentle ease. “I have to go,” I whisper, staggering to my feet.
Leaning down, I brush my fingers across the top of the smooth headstone and over the letters of Kase’s name. “Rest easy, brother. And thank you, for everything.”
My steps are lighter as I hobble back down the path, back to life.