Summer slipped away, and I fell into an unusual routine.I lived in Zane’s room as if it were my own.I occasionally checked in with my father to reassure him I was fine, but I never visited.V had shaved her purple hair into a short, lighter style and had even removed some piercings for the job.
Once a week, we visited Zane, chatting with him as though he were right there with us.V told him everything that was going on, but I was mostly silent, speaking with him only in private and mostly in my mind.
I distanced myself from everyone—my parents, Jessica, Emily, and Marco.They reached out, but I didn't respond.All I wanted was to escape.Fun and carefree days spent at the lake or beach held no appeal for me.
V made new friends, but I preferred the solitude of Zane’s home, which had become my sanctuary.He never truly left me; I clung to the past, unable to let go, not yet.
August 10th,
I wish I could have woken up before you, run downstairs in my stupid unicorn pajamas to the fridge to grab the small cake I bought for you the day before, light the candle before stepping back inside the bedroom, singing "Happy Birthday."I wish to see you laugh, showing that insanely cute dimple of yours.I wish for you to make a wish and blow out that candle.I wish to kiss you and make love to you like it's the last time before the end of the world.I wish… I wish…
“Are you all set to leave?”V knocked on Zane’s door.
“Yes, just give me a second!”I called back.I shut the diary, tucked it away in the drawer, and hurried outside.
We exchanged a few quiet glances as we made our way down the stairs to meet Davide, who was waiting at the entrance with his car keys in hand.
Upon arriving at the cemetery, Davide picked up some flowers, and soon we found ourselves standing before the marble gravestone, gazing at Zane’s photograph.It would have marked his 20th birthday.We probably would have thrown a massive celebration, with Clous spinning tunes, perhaps at the beach.
“My little Zane Truesdale,” Davide said, tears streaming down his face, catching me off guard.
“Who?”I asked, bewildered by the name.I glanced at V, who offered a faint smile.
“He never told you why he chose the name Zane?”V inquired, her eyes reflecting my confusion.I had sometimes wondered about the origin of the name; it seemed more natural for him to be called Zach, as a shorthand for Zachary.
“It was his favorite anime show,” Davide finally said, his eyes fixed on Zane’s photo.“He would dash off the school bus, running home to make sure he didn't miss his show.One evening at dinner, I asked him, 'Zach, could you pass the salad?'He immediately stood up, fixing me with a serious look that made everyone stop in their tracks.“From now on, call me Zane.I'm Zane Truesdale,” he declared, and we all burst into laughter.The name stuck with him from that day on.”A hint of a smile crept onto Davide’s face at the memory.
I realized there was so much about Zane that I had yet to discover, stories he would have shared with me in time.
“I'm going to wait for you in the car,” Davide said, before making his way to the gravestone.He touched Zane’s photo gently before leaving.We lingered for a few more moments, and I wanted to learn more about Zane, but I didn't dare ask.
Suddenly, a fluttering sensation stirred in my stomach.I instinctively stepped back, placing my hand on my midsection, puzzled.
“Are you alright?”V asked, grabbing my arm with concern.
“Yes, I just… I don't know.I felt something odd,” I replied, still trying to process the sensation.
“What do you mean?What kind of feeling?”V pressed.
“Like butterflies in my stomach.It's strange,” I admitted, lost in thought.
“I think I know what that is,” she said, a smile spreading across her face.I locked my eyes onto hers, filled with questions.
“What?”I asked, my impatience growing.
“I think it was the baby,” she replied.
“The baby?But… isn't that too soon?”I asked, taken aback and skeptical.
“I read that it's not the actual movements you're feeling yet, but as the baby grows, you start to feel it, like those butterflies,” she explained, pulling me into a comforting embrace.
A warm sensation enveloped me—a feeling I hadn't experienced in a long time.
A new life was developing within me, and despite my attempts to resist the thought, to push it away, all I could feel was love.
On our return journey, I smiled softly, my hand resting on my belly.A wave of guilt washed over me for that fleeting moment of joy.
That night, as I lay in bed, I couldn't help but rub my stomach.It had been a tough day, but I was finally allowed to feel something other than endless sorrow.I drifted off to sleep, imagining my belly growing, moving, and kicking, picturing myself holding the baby for the first time and kissing its tiny toes.
