June didn’t reply.
And she wasn’t a woman who was often speechless…but she was speechless now.
“You don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head…because maybe I didn’t understand either. “She never came. Notonce. Not when I cried or fuckin’ screamed or…not when I stayed in this crumblin’ church, praying she’d show her face and tell me she was okay. Not when I nearly drank myself to death. Not when I…”
I paused, reaching up to squeeze the bridge of my nose.
“When did you see her the first time?”
June answered instantly, like the date was always living in her head rent-free.
“April 19th, 2013.”
I let out a bitter laugh, unable to stop myself. “The day she died. Jesus…”
June took a step back, like the words had physically struck her.
“I didn’t know,” she said softly. “Silas…I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“I know you didn’t.” I ran a hand through my hair, dragging my palm down the back of my neck like I could wipe away the grief. Of course, I couldn’t; it stayed there, clinging to me. “I know it’s not your fault. I just…fuck, I don’t understand.”
Silence stretched between us again. My thoughts were racing, each new revelation more painful. She’d gone to June instead of me. She’d left me here in this hollowed out house of worship, left me to waste away, to die…and she’d saved June.
Why?
Why the fuck hadn’t I been good enough?
June hovered a step away, like she didn’t know if she should touch me again or give me room to fall apart. Maybe both. Maybe neither. I didn’t blame her for not knowing what to do, but I still wanted her to do something, anything?—
I scrubbed my hands down my face again. My skin felt too tight…my ribs too hollow.
“She died alone,” I said. “Maybe thinkin’ I should havebeen there. Maybe thinkin’ I didn’t love her right. Maybe that’s why she didn’t come back for me.”
“Silas,” June finally said, voice quiet and tight. “Don’t do that to yourself.”
But I couldn’t stop the thought, digging this grave deeper, wanting to crawl into the soft earth and rot.
“She came to you because…fuck, of course she did, June. How could anyone see you and not think you’ve got good to do in this world? You’re gonna do things to actually help people, and I’ve just been sulking in this goddamn?—”
“Silas,stop,” June interrupted, stepping into my space more forcefully now.
I stopped.
Looked at her.
“Silas,” she said, repeating my name as if she was trying to haul me back to reality. “What if she knew that I would get here someday…and I just took longer than I was supposed to?”
I stared at her, trying to make sense of everything—of Amelia’s ghost where June’s angel should have been, of the bitterness in my throat, of the fact that June’s salvation had been my grief. But June…God, June—she stepped into the space between us, forcing me to confront this.
She wasn’t going to let me go.
Not without a fight.
“Silas,” she said. “I am so,sosorry that she didn’t come to you…but I won’t apologize for her coming to me, becauseshe was my angel. She told me to come back when I was ready to leave. I don’t know why…maybe because we both came up in the same kind of cult, because we both wanted to find God even though we were told over and over again that we weren’t worthy. She came to me and told me I was worthy…and now I’m here.”
She paused. I waited. I needed to hear more, for this wound to stop aching.
“And I saw her again the night the snake bit me,” June said. “She told me to come back then, too…to come back to you.”
