Chapter 18
eighteen
. . .
Eden
The darkness feels heavier than it has the last few days when I open my eyes. There is a pressure on my chest that has nothing to do with anything physical and everything to do with the loss of all I know.
It’s hard to believe that it’s only been a little over three weeks since the crash. I finally had a plan for my life. I knew where I wanted to go to school, had two loving parents, and now…I don’t know.
Today is Christmas. My birthday. And my parents are dead.
The grief is as real as a hand reaching inside my chest and squeezing until I can’t pull in a full breath. I stare at the ceiling while snow falls softly against the bedroom window. The digital clock beside my bed glows red.
6:03 a.m.
Do I get up?
Is there a point?
I pull the blanket tighter around myself and try not to cry, but my throat burns anyway.
Last year Mum woke me up singing Happy Birthday off-key, while Dad made cinnamon rolls downstairs with extra frosting.
My favorite. Today there is no coffee brewing, no Christmas music playing low through the house, and no wrapped gifts beneath the tree.
The joy of the past cannot be replicated now.
Some losses aren’t measured in years. They’re measured in absent traditions.
I strain my ears, but there’s only silence. It settles into the walls and stays there, lingering without being seen as surely as any ghost. I roll over slowly, ribs protesting, and grab my phone from the nightstand.
Merry Christmas and happy birthday texts are waiting for me, and I’m not sure if opening them will make me feel better or worse.
My aunt wishes me a happy birthday.
Beth and Sean text Merry Christmas.
How can today be merry? I haven’t even seen or heard from either of them since the funeral. I shake my head.
Kyle sends me a funny gif and a bunch of hearts just like he does every year.
Then Kris’s name lights up across the screen.
Kris: I love you and I’m sorry and I love you again.
I can’t help but smile. This is Kris. Dramatic to the point of frustration, but under that is a soft and kind person. It’s why, her hate on for Felix feels…odd.
Kris: I want to wish you a Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday, but it also seems so wrong.
Eden: I know what you mean. Thanks, bestie. I love you too.
Kris: So, listen, I know you’re going to try and say no, but I’m not accepting that. Kyle is picking you up at 4:30, so be ready. You are spending today with us, my parents insist.
Eden: Kris…
Kris: No, this isn’t an argument you can win. Mom is making way too much food, and if you try staying home alone today, I’ll tell Kyle to tie you up and drag you out of the house.
Despite myself, I laugh. That is totally something Kris would do.
Eden: I’m thinking I’ll just stay home and sleep, honestly.
The typing bubbles appear instantly.
Kris: Absolutely not. Today of all days, you cannot spend alone.
Kris: Eden, I mean it. You need to be with people today.
Kris: And before you try and argue. YES, I know you’re grieving. YES, I know you’re tired, but isolating yourself in that house isn’t healthy.
I stare at the message too long. Part of me knows she is right, but another part of me…the selfish part…the part I don’t want to examine too closely…wants to stay home and have a quiet night with Felix.
Kris: Please, Eden. We love you, and we want to make today a special day for you. We’re your best friends and we always see you at some point on your birthday. Pleeeeease, pretty please, with whip cream and a cherry on top.
I roll my eyes. Are we kids again?
Eden: Okay, stop it…I’ll be ready to go.
Kris: Yes!!!! Oh…but…I don’t want Felix to come. This is a day for family and he’s not family yet.
The subtle insult isn’t even aimed at me, but I feel like I’ve been sucker punched.
Eden: Kris, he’s been my rock, and he doesn’t have anyone either.
Kris: No. I’m serious. I want one night where it’s just us like the old days or as close as we can get without your parents being here. Besides, he is always there, hovering and monopolizing your time lately. This is just for us. Something normal.
Normal?
Nothing will ever be normal again.
Kris: Please. It’s only a few hours…what did he do before you? I miss you. How are we supposed to have girl talk and stuff? I’ll even paint your nails.
A sliver of guilt picks at my brain because I know Kris is grieving too. She was close to my parents, and she almost lost me in the crash as well. Now, instead of spending Christmas with her family properly, she’s trying to include me so I don’t drown alone in this house.
Eden: Okay, I won’t bring him.
Kris: Good. And wear comfy clothes because my dad has already threatened board games and karaoke after dinner.
Eden: Karaoke feels emotionally violent today.
Kris: Exactly why we’re doing it.
The conversation ends, and I slowly lower the phone onto my chest.
An hour later, I force myself out of bed. Every movement still aches, but it’s a bit more manageable. I’m supposed to do my exercises, but it’s my birthday so…fuck that.
I make coffee on autopilot, staring blankly out the kitchen window, watching the snow pile up in the backyard. The early morning light makes it glow with a golden hue.
The roar of an engine cuts through the silence, and I turn to see headlights paint the living room wall.
My heart reacts before my brain does—Felix.
I’m limping toward the door before he even knocks. The second I open it, cold air rushes in. He’s carrying three grocery bags and a light dusting of snow on the shoulders of his leather jacket that genuinely looks sexy as hell on him.
He stops and leans over to kiss my cheek. Warmth spreads inside of me.
“Merry Birthday, Pretty Thing.”
“Merry Birthday? I don’t think I’ve heard that one before.”
“Thought I’d merge the two and make something unique just for you.”
My smile is instant, and the fact that I can smile hits so hard it almost hurts.
“Merry Christmas, Felix.”
His expression softens as I close the door and he kicks off his boots.
Without another word, he sets the bags down and wraps his arms around me. I melt into him embarrassingly fast, burying my face against his chest while his hand slides slowly through my hair.
Eventually he pulls back enough to brush his thumb beneath my eyes.
“I brought everything to make you a killer breakfast. I even learned how to flip pancakes in the air.”
I look at the overflowing bags as he picks them up.
“You brought half the grocery store.”
His mouth twitches.
“Well…there is also stuff to make dinner. I figured you wouldn’t be interested in cooking a traditional turkey dinner yourself, so I’m going to do it for you,” he says, smiling wide.
The guilt hits instantly, and I bite my lip as I look away from his happy face.
“What is it?”
I swallow hard.
“Kris wants me to go to her parents’ place tonight, and I already agreed.”
The silence that follows is heavy.
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry, Felix. I…they have been like family for years, and I just couldn’t say no when she asked me.”
I reach for him, running my hand down his arm. Felix’s jaw clenches before smoothing right back out.
“No, that’s good. I totally understand.”
The ache in his voice stabs me in the chest.
“I feel horrible because you brought all this stuff and—”
“Eden.” His voice stays gentle. “It’s okay.”
“But—”
“You should be with people today. They are your friends, and as you said, they are practically family. It’s where you belong.”
The words sound right, but his sadness bleeds through. It’s as if someone just let all the air out of the room.
“I’d invite you, but…”
“It’s okay, no need to explain.”
Something twists painfully deep inside me, and it has nothing to do with my injuries.
He sets the bags down again and steps closer to cup the side of my face.
“You don’t have to feel guilty.”
The words nearly wreck me. Felix presses a kiss to my forehead before stepping back, grabbing the bags, and heading to the kitchen.
“Now, sit down before your ankle swells again. I’m making birthday breakfast,” he calls over his shoulder.
The next few hours are a blur.
Christmas music hums low through the house, while Felix cooks enough food for six people and somehow keeps quietly taking care of me without making it obvious.
Coffee appears before I ask. Pain meds are handed over right on time.
A blanket is tucked around me whenever I shiver.
A smile and kiss at just the right moment I need one.
It should feel overwhelming, but it’s terrifyingly easy to let him.
At one point, he goes out to his vehicle and comes back in carrying something badly wrapped in old newspapers.
“I forgot wrapping paper,” Felix says, with a sheepish shrug.
I stare at him.
“You got me a present?”
“You sound surprised.”
“I just wasn’t expecting it. I didn’t get you anything.”
“Stop it. I’m not giving you this because I expect a gift in return. Besides, it’s not exactly like you can run out to the store.” He nods toward the gift and smirks. That little smile feels like it is all for me. “Open it, Pretty Thing.”
Carefully, I peel back the paper and pull out a camera. Not a new one, but vintage and heavy.
“Oh my god.”
“You can’t beat the quality of an older camera with all the new fancy digital ones. They just don’t have the character,” he says quietly.
I stare down at it in awe.
“It’s beautiful.”
My eyes meet his, and he lights up at my reaction.
“My mom used photography to cope when things got bad,” he admits. “She said sometimes it’s easier to survive life when you learn how to frame it differently.”
I love that.
“Felix…”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“No, I do. This is so sweet. Thank you,” I say, with tears in my eyes.
He leans in, and the kiss tastes like coffee, grief, and something dangerously close to love.
By noon we’re both singing old Christmas songs off-key, while Felix teaches me aperture settings and how to load the film into the camera.
When it’s time to get ready to leave, I don’t want to. This is exactly what I wanted to do today, not go and be social with a bunch of people, no matter how much I love them.
Felix rubs my knee.
“I know today is hard for you. I’d like to toast your parents, my mum, and my brother who can’t be here either. To those we have loved and lost but will never forget.”
Emotion clogs my throat as we gently clink our mugs together.
He helps me get into the pants and red knit sweater I’ve picked for tonight, guilt riding me every second. At 4:15 sharp, Felix heads to the front door and pulls on his jacket.
“You don’t have to leave yet,” I say quietly, my heart sinking.
He smiles.
“Yes. I do. I know that Kris and Kyle don’t like me and that’s fine. I don’t want to make today hard or awkward for you by being here when your ride arrives.”
I limp closer and straighten the collar of his jacket just to have an excuse to touch him.
“I’m sorry.”
“Eden.” His gloved hand brushes gently against my cheek. “You never have to apologize for wanting your people.”
He’s one of my people.
Felix leans down and kisses me. His touch is tender, unhurried and I savor every second. Then he presses his forehead against mine briefly before stepping back.
“I’ll call you later,” he says, opening the door. Cold wind rushes inside, and then he’s gone.
I stand at the window, staring out at the falling snow with the vintage camera clutched tightly against my chest while something painful twists inside me.
Today suddenly doesn’t feel complete without him.