We stood there for a moment with the ocean breathing quietly behind us. Just the tide rolling in and out like it wasn’t angry at anyone anymore. Like it understood the importance of today in a way most people wouldn’t.
“I’m still scared,” he admitted softly.
I didn’t pretend not to hear it. “I know,” I said.
He squeezed my hand. “But I’m not running.”
My chest tightened. Neither was I.
The cemetery gatecreaked softly when we pushed it open.
The sound carried too far in the quiet, a thin metallic protest against the stillness of the morning. The place smelled like freshly cut grass and old stone, damp earth warming under the sun. The faint scent of flowers drifted on a gentle breeze, mingling with salt from the ocean.
Elliot’s grip tightened on my hand. He wasn’t panicking—just bracing. The truth was, so was I.
There was so much we had to share with her. So much he’d survived. I didn’t doubt for a second that Natalie already knew it all. But she’d always loved indulgently, generously. She was the kind of woman who would listen anyway, just to see her son smile when he told her.
We walked the path together, slowly, past rows of names and dates. Quiet grief that didn’t belong to us. Elliot’s shoulders were tense beneath my hoodie, the fabric bunching slightly where his fingers twisted the cuffs.
When we reached her grave, he stopped.
Natalie’s headstone was simple—smooth pale granite, her name etched clean and elegant, the dates too close together to ever feel fair. Someone had left a small ceramic angel at the base. A faded ribbon tangled around a metal stake that once held a balloon.
The wildflowers in Elliot’s hand trembled.
He kneeled carefully, placing them at the foot of the stone. The colors looked wrong and perfect all at once against the muted gray—the yellows too bright, the purples too alive, the white petals catching the sun like they were trying to glow.
“They suit you better than roses,” I murmured quietly. “You always hated anything that tried too hard.”
I stayed standing while he lingered there, fingertips brushing the petals like he was memorizing them.
After a few deep breaths, I crouched and rested my hand against the cool stone. Elliot stepped back allowing me a moment of privacy while I reconnected with the only true friend I’d ever had before Thomas.
I told her about Elliot. About the man her son was becoming. About how I’d nearly ruined everything by confusing guilt with love and fear with morality. About how I’d thought I was doing the right thing when I was really just running.
“I’m not running anymore,” I said softly. “I love him. Thank you, Natalie.”
The wind moved through the grass. It felt like her caress as it brushed my cheek. I stood and stepped back, giving Elliot the space. He moved forward on shaky legs. His fingers touched her name like it might disappear.
“Hi Mom. I miss you so much.” A tear trailed down his cheek. “I can’t believe it's been a year already. It still feels like it was just yesterday that you… That y-you… Anyway I’m alive,” he whispered. “I’m trying. I’m writing again. I fell in love.”
His voice cracked. Gave up crouching to sit cross legged on the ground, twisting a blade of grass between his fingers.
“I don’t wake up hollow anymore.”
I didn’t interrupt. Didn’t move away in case he needed me. Just watched over him while he spoke to his mom. From the way he speaks to her it was clear their relationship was filled with love and understanding. I’m sorry he only got a few years with her.
“I’m not going to die just because you did,” he said quietly. “I promise.”
His shoulders shook. I stepped closer and rested my hand against the back of his neck and squeezed. His pain echoed through me as if it were my own. Elliot leaned into me without looking.
For a moment, it felt like all three of us were there together. It was the most perfect thing.
The breeze shifted and eventually I pulled my hand away gently and took a few steps back. I lit a cigarette not because I wanted it. But because my hands needed something to do.
That’s when I saw him. David. At the far end of the path. Heading in our direction too quickly for my liking. My stomach dropped when I caught the expression on his face. Lip curled back in a snarl.
I exhaled the smoke slowly and stepped just enough into his line of sight that Elliot stayed shielded. He didn’t need to deal with this shit when he was already so delicate today. I refused to bring more grief to his door if it could be avoided.
