His words fade into the abyss as my mind starts to spin, racing through thousands of possibilities. What would my life have been like if none of this ever happened? How did I manage to fall for the man involved in all of it?
The air feels like it’s been ripped out of this room. I inhale then exhale, but it never feels like enough. I do it again. And again. Until I’m heaving, gasping, my chest burning, desperate for air that never seems enough.
A hand lands on my shoulder, snapping me out of my anxiety-fueled daze.
“Vivienne. Are you with me? Do you need water?” Nate asks with concern.
I flinch, my gaze snapping to where it had rested. Pink pajamas. Test tubes. Chemicals. The memory of his touch stings. Nate once had this ability to quiet my anxious mind, steady me when I was lost—but now, I feel like the spiral pulling me under is unstoppable.
“Vivienne, are you alright?"
He takes another step forward, arm out for me, when I put a hand up to stop him from going any further.
“I need you to leave me alone.”
I meet his gaze when my words escape me, the anguish in his eyes hurting me more than I could have ever imagined. Eventually, I look away, unable to take in the sight of him breaking when I’m doing the same.
“I just—I need time to think,” Icorrect myself.
I catch his slight bow of acknowledgment before his figure fades, leaving behind an empty hallway and an even emptier heart.
To have thought I moved on from the past is almost comical, because the second the door closes, I fall apart all over again, every piece of me unraveling till I’m left numb.
———
No valid driver’s license. No problem. That’s what I told myself when I borrowed Sutton’s car keys (with her knowledge) and made the trip to Pennsylvania.
My hometown.
A place that held so many great memories until they turned black.
Crisp, cold winter air bites at my skin as I step out of the vehicle. I rub my mitten-clad hands together as I wind down the main path. Endless rows of tombstones stretch before me. I take a deep breath, heart breaking all over again as the tears spill down my cheeks.
I haven’t been here since I moved to New York City.
I haven’t been here since the summer they left.
And the shame that fills me is incomparable to anything I’ve felt before.
They were too young to be taken away from this world, and I was too young for them to be taken away from me. The thought of coming back here always felt like a reminder of something that I’d lost and the gaping hole they left in its wake.
I always told myself this was just part of the cycle of life—we’re born, we live, and we die. But it wasn’t right to take it away from someone unwillingly.
It takes me a minute to locate my parents’ graves, but when I finally come across those gray tombstones, I crash down tomy knees, not caring that the snow is already soaking through my jeans.
“Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad,” I say, lips quivering as tears burn down my cheeks. “I know it’s been a while, but I hope you can forgive me.” My voice cracks as the memories resurface, all the more prominent with blurred vision.
It’s like they take place in real time.
Evenings cooking in the kitchen with Mom. Getting yelled at by Dad for actually stopping at stop signs rather than rolling through them. Crushing them in the biggest bear hugs when life was getting overwhelming.
It was always about the little things. Now I’ll never get the chance to experience them anymore.
“I have some updates for you, if you’d like to hear. You may be proud. You may be disappointed. I guess I’ll never really know.”
I wait for a sign that they’re here with me. That their spirit might awaken the world around me—trees murmuring, birds chirping, stars suddenly brightening. But nothing comes, only the eerie sigh of the wind passing through the trees in the dead of this starless night.
“Last time I was here, I was eighteen. I’m twenty-six now,” I say with a bitter laugh. “I know, I know. I’m getting old, hence the graying. But somehow, I don’t mind it because it reminds me of you, Dad,” I choke out on a sniffle.
