“Should I– Zander… w–what do I do? Tell me what I–” Tears cut him off as I tighten my hold, stroking his hair and rocking us lightly back and forth.
“Just let it out. You’re safe, you have time– just rest.”
We stayed there for what felt like hours; I just held him, and he let me. We didn’t really speak, but the little conversation we did have was about what we do next. Jules is scared to move; he can’t decide whether to see her one last time or hold on to the memories bursting with energy and life.
“I can’t make that decision for you. I wish I could.”
“Do I need to choose now?” He chews on his thumbnail, the skin beside raw and red. I pull it away gently and tuck his hand between us.
“No, not right now. If you want to go and see her when she goes to the chapel, you can do that.”
“I don’t want to see her there. She doesn’t know that place, and I don’t want to see her alone…” He’s getting worked up again. His breathing becomes erratic, and his heart hammers against my chest at the thought of his Mom being anywhere but here, with him. But that’s the reality slowly creeping in, one that he will have to face over the coming days.
“Then I think it’s either now or never, Jules.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Jules - One week later
Age 20
“And would you like to speak, or would you prefer it if I held the entire service?”
“He would prefer it if you would speak,” Zander answers the celebrant on my behalf. He’s done all the heavy lifting over the last week. I thought I would be stronger than this. I’ve had so much time to prepare, but when the time actually came, I wasn’t prepared at all. The house has been a rush of long-lost family members, funeral directors, and neighbours bringing food. I’ve kept myself tucked away for the most part, hiding out in the bedroom, hoping night would fall and I could just sleep. My dreams are the only place she lives now. There hasn’t been a single night since she left that she hasn’t been there, so, naturally, it’s the only place I find myself wanting to be. I don’t want to talk to anyone, I don’t want unfamiliar food, and I don’t want to hear “She’s in a better place”anymore. On the occasions I have socialised, I’ve done what’s expected; smiled along at their stories, even when it’s painful, offered drinks, and said “thank you for coming” as they left.
“And songs, do you have any in particular that you would like us to play?”
“Umm, I don’t–”
“True Colors,” I answer, steady and sure. Zander’s head raises in my direction upon hearing my voice. He looks ready to burst into tears, but he nods his head and smiles softly–
“She would love that.” He reaches across and takes my hand in his.
“Yeah, she would.”
Something pulls me out of my dreams, not instantly; the sound penetrates my subconscious first, before the cold, empty space in bed fully rouses me. Following the noise leads me to the closed bathroom door; the light is on, and the strangled weeping from behind escapes through the gaps. My body freezes, and my breath waits. I hold still, anticipating the next noise and hoping that my ears are mistaken– that Zander isn’t on the other side of the door, grieving in solitude. I can hear the muffled fracture of his composure, and I can feel the burn as he tries to contain it, as if it were my own grief. The floorboards underneath groan as I take a step closer. Silence.
“Zander?” There’s no noise, no response. “Can I come in?” My fingers are already wrapped around the handle, uncaring of the answer, just driven by the urge to protect him.
“Give me a–” I don’t. I push through the door to find him rushing to get up. Guilt and tears fight for dominance in hiseyes before he eventually slumps back down to rest against the bathtub. “Or come in, that’s totally fine too,” his voice is completely void of emotion, as is the huff of laughter that follows.
“Couldn’t sleep?” I take a seat beside him, close enough that our thighs rest against one another.
“It’s too quiet… I didn’t realise how noisy the BIPAP was, until it wasn’t.”
“Yeah…” The breathing apparatus that would fill the quiet spaces of the night seemed to have the same effect as white noise; once it was functioning, Zander and I would fall asleep with barely any effort. Although now I think about it, it was less to do with the noise and more to do with its function. For as long as it was on, Mom was breathing. Silence takes over the bathroom, both of us tired in places sleep can’t reach, but too exhausted to be anything else.
“I’m sorry, Jules.”
“For what?”
“I promised to protect you, but this is too big, even for me.” His head dips, resting against his pulled-up knees. “I can’t save you from this, just like I couldn’t saveher.”
“She didn’t need saving, Zan. Not this time.”
“But I didn’t even try, I just accepted what she told me. I didn’t push, I didn’t fight, not like you did. She fought so hard for me, and I let her down in return.I couldn’t save her,”he whispers the last part to himself, but I heard it loud and clear.
“You did.”
