Skylar
The limo ride to the cemetery is uncomfortably quiet.
Valerie sits across from me, her hands folded neatly in her lap, sad brown eyes fixed on the tinted window like she’s watching a movie.
I’ve known the woman since I was four. She used to make me cobbler for my birthdays, French-braided my hair, and taught me how to put on lipstick…yet she’s hardly said more than two words to me.
Even still, it’s not so much the lack of conversation that’s bothering me.
While Valerie has her feisty moments and has no problem making her opinions known, Archie was always the more outgoing one.
Cracking jokes whenever things became too heavy.
Valerie has always been a bit more introspective. Observant.
Much like her son.
However, there’s a coldness radiating from her that I’ve never felt before. It has me instinctively clamping my mouth shut every time I want to speak.
The driver pulls through the iron gates of the memorial park, tires crunching over gravel as we approach a small chapel on the grounds.
And still…neither of us says a peep.
The silence feels like a sentence I haven’t finished serving yet.
I fix my stare on the rows of stone angels, crosses, and flowers.
Until I can’t take it anymore and finally force myself to ask the question I’ve been holding onto since I realized he walked out of the service.
“Do you know if Memphis is coming back?”
Her voice is soft and utterly devastating when she speaks. “I’m afraid not.”
The fact his own mother has no idea only worries me more.
I pull my phone out of my purse. “Should we try calling him again?”
Even though I’ve been trying to call him for days now. Something tells me Valerie will have way better luck getting in touch with him.
Only then does she look at me. Her expression is hard—a warning all on its own—like a mama bear protecting her cub.
Protective and lethal at the same time.
Whoa.
“I think it’s in both of your best interests for you to stop calling him.”
Her tone isn’t biting, but the implied message sure is.
Leave my son alone.
“Look, I know how this looks from the outside, Valerie, but you don’t understand—”
“No. I don’t think you understand,” she interjects.
“I was there when he walked into his apartment…but you weren’t.
” Her hostility isn’t loud. It’s precise.
An arrow hitting the desired target. “Just like I was there when you broke his heart the first time.” Her voice doesn’t shake, but I inwardly do.
“You have no idea what it’s like to watch your son be broken over and over again while you ping pong between the two of them like it’s some kind of game. ”
“It’s not a game—”
“You should have left him alone.” Her next words are a wound. “Because this time, you didn’t just break his heart. You destroyed him.”
“I—” My voice cracks, shattering like crystal. “I never meant to hurt him.”
I was trying to save him.
Her expression softens, almost like she remembers that I’m not some evil minx tearing apart her son for sport.
“You might not have meant to, but you did.” Her hand rests over mine.
However, it’s gone too quickly. Like she’s drawing an invisible line in the sand.
“I know you have a good heart, Skylar. But you both need space and time to heal.”
The limo slows to a stop.
Chandler is outside waiting for us. Phoenix is in his wheelchair, staring at nothing. Storm is right beside him like his personal security guard.
And Memphis is gone.
Valerie steps out first.
I sit there, drawing in another breath.
She’s right. We do need time to heal.
But neither of us can heal until Memphis knows he was my first choice.
I knock.
Once.
Twice.
“Memphis,” I shout, my knocks growing louder and more impatient. “I know you know I’m out here.”
Nothing.
Just the echo of my pulse in my ears.
“Please—”
The door opens so fast I nearly lose my balance.
I’m about to walk inside, but he steps out into the hall, shutting the door behind him.
His face is a map of exhaustion and fury as he positions himself in front of the door…blocking it.
Like the space is sacred and I’m no longer welcome.
When he speaks, his voice is razor sharp. “The only reason I opened the door was so I could tell you to your face to fuck off.”
My heart drops, but I don’t let his words deter me. “And I only came here so I could tell you to your face that I love you.”
His laugh is a guillotine.
Cutting. Brutal.
“How convenient.”
“No—”
“Cut the shit. We both know the only reason you’re here is because he’s dead.”
He doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t have to.
His message is loud and clear.
Now I just need him to hear mine.
“It’s not like that. You don’t understand—”
“Oh, I understand perfectly.” A muscle in his jaw flexes.
“Your meal ticket is gone. Your safety net? No longer exists. Which means it’s time for plan B.
” He taps the center of his chest. “That’s where I come in, right?
Good ol’ Memphis. The benchwarmer. The understudy.
The contingency plan. The sucker who always falls for your bullshit. ”
My vision blurs with tears. “You have every reason to hate me, but please hear me out. I just need—”
“What you need is to leave me alone.” His voice slices, stark and lethal. Filleting me wide open. “Because I’m out of fucks to give…in every way.”
“Memphis—”
“Don’t say my name like I belong to you.”
Those words hit harder than anything that’s happened over the past month.
Instinctively, I reach for him.
He instantly recoils, like my touch might kill him.
Like I disgust him.
“I never want to see you again.” There’s no pain behind his words. Just resolve. “Now get out. Or I’ll call security.”
My heart beats off rhythm, forewarning me that I’m about to lose something vital.
Something I can’t live without.
The hallway tilts. My lungs forget how to draw in air.
“Please, Memphis.” My knees give, hitting the floor. “I’m begging you. Please, just let me explain.”
He stares down at me like I’m an evil spirit he needs to exorcise.
Like he’s face-to-face with the version of me he always feared existed.
“I’m not interested in hearing your bullshit excuses. I’m done.”
“I love you.” My voice cracks. My heart hemorrhages. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. Just give me a chance to fix—”
“You can’t.”
He says it with absolute conviction. A force strong enough to shatter the whole fucking world.
My world.
Desperate, I grip the pant legs of jeans, like a child tugging on their mother’s clothing when they don’t get their way.
He can have my pride. I don’t want it.
I just want him.
“If you would just listen—”
He sighs.
Not angry. Not tired.
Just…done.
One by one, his fingers wrap around mine, prying each one loose.
“I love you—”
“No. You don’t.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest. “If you did, you would respect what I need…which is to move on.”
“Memphis—”
“You’ve hurt me enough.”
His words are the equivalent of a silent execution in the middle of the night.
Inconsolable, I choke on air as hot tears stream down my face. “I never, ever wanted to hurt you. If you could please listen—”
“There is nothing you can say that will make this something I can survive ever again. I’ll never be able to look at you without remembering every ounce of pain you’ve caused me.”
He doesn’t look at me like he wishes he could stop loving me…
He’s looking at me like he wishes he never loved me.
My heart caves in on itself and I clutch his pant leg again. “Please, Memphis. Please.”
Composed, he removes my fingers, like a surgeon amputating a limb so the infection won’t spread.
Like he’s severing the connection between us for survival.
I reach for him again, but he takes a step back. “Let me go, Skylar.”
Sobbing, I bury my head in my hands.
Memphis goes inside his apartment…closing the door behind him.
Not with force…but finality.
After what feels like hours, I finally pick myself up off the floor. The world feels colder, my heartbeat weaker.
I glance back at his apartment one last time, too afraid to give up and leave because doing so will solidify the death of us.
Turns out, I am a murderer.
Memphis is alive…but I killed something beautiful inside of him.
Something I can never get back.
To be continued…