Monty leaves, and I take a deep breath before heading over to Asher’s headstone for the first time.
Despite being close by every time Ella visits,I’ve yet to find the courage to walk over. But this will be my last time in San Francisco for a while, so I have to. At least once.
It’s just marble and a name. Not Asher.
What do people even do at cemeteries? I’ve watched Ella talking to herself, laughing sometimes, and I don’t know if I should be doing the same thing.
How do you have a conversation with the dead?
I can’t do it. It isn’t in me. So, I reach forward and touch the same spot Ella did.
And then I leave.
I wait until nightfall.I’m in my usual spot in Ella’s yard, hidden by the trees, watching her move through the house. I don’t know whether she’s found the note, so my appearance tonight might scare her, but I’ve waited long enough.
My biggest fear is that she’ll be angry with me.
She’s my last tie to Asher, and the thought of her blaming me for my brother’s death haunts me. I’d understand if she did. I shouldn’t have left Asher alone that night. I’d gone to get the car, told him I’d be a few minutes, told him I’d be back …
I pinch the bridge of my nose, remembering Asher’s face.
“She hates me,” he’d said.
I hadn’t known how to respond, so I’d squeezed my brother's shoulder and said we could talk about it in the car. When I came back, Asher was on the ground, Ella by his side.
If we’d stuck together, none of this would have happened. I was supposed to protect him. I was supposed to keep him safe.
The glow of the kitchen light illuminates Ella as she makes dinner. I’m not even sure how I’m supposed to suddenly reveal myself. Do I knock on the door? Throw a stone at her damn window? How do you reappear after being gone for so long?
The back door opens.
“Come on, Motordog,” she says, and I move further back into the trees. “Five minutes of fresh air, then it’s time for bed.”
Motor wanders onto the porch and sits, huffing. I smile. I miss my dog so fucking much. I can’t wait to snuggle that massive furball.
“Come on, Motor,” Ella says, crouching by him. “You like the yard. It’s got grass.” She scratches his head. “Come on, baby boy, be a good boy.”
I scowl and whisper, “That fucking baby voice.”
Motor’s head whips around and focuses on me. Fuck. I did the same thing last night and almost gave myself away.
I very nearly walked out into the garden that night, especially when I heard Ella talk to Asher and start to cry. It pulled at my chest, and it had taken all my strength not to talk to her. I don’t know why I suddenly can’t stand the idea of her in pain. It’s like all the protectiveness and care I had for Asher transferred to her, and hearing her sob last night … it felt like losing him all over again.
Motor stands and wags his tail. Ella is looking in the direction that the dog is.
And maybe it’s the wrong way to do this, but I move out of the shadows. At first, Ella doesn’t move. She stays crouched by Motor, unblinking, eyes fixed on me.
I can’t breathe. Six months of watching her, of needing someone to talk to, to even touch, hits me all at once. The only other person in the world who cared forAsher as much as me has been within arm’s reach for so long, and now she’s finally looking at me, and I have no oxygen left.
Every muscle in me is taut with terror. Fear for myself had always been reserved for losing Asher, of having to exist in this world without my brother by my side, but now it’s all for her.
Motor bounds forward happily, and I fuss the dog, pressing my face into his fur, my heart healing a little.
“Hey, boy,” I whisper. “How you been?”
When I look at Ella again, she’s making her way down the porch steps.
“Is this real?” she asks quietly.
