“Do you know where I was when he died?”
The question hangs in the cold air between us.
I've never said this out loud before, not even to my brother. But I can't keep it bottled up anymore because it's tearing me apart.
“Where?” he asks lightly.
I continue to stare at the headstone as I answer, because I can't look at him yet.
“I was at home,” I admit, feeling ashamed. “I was drunk.”
The word tastes bitter in my mouth. I’m disgusted with myself.
“One night I wanted to escape for a bit… just one night.” My throat tightens. “He died alone that night, Elijah. Alone.”
He's going to leave me. I’m a horrible person.
“I promised him I’d be there. I promised him I wouldn't leave him. And the last thing he probably saw was an empty room or the staff who were taking care of him.”
A broken sound forces its way out of my chest.
“And me?” My hand presses against my sternum like I can hold my heart together if I try hard enough. “I got drunk. I was selfish and stupid, and I—”
The words dissolve into a sob.
“I didn't even get to say goodbye to my best friend.”
The overwhelming grief tears through me like my ribs have been cracked open and everything inside has been ripped out.
“I hate myself,” I gasp, shaking my head violently. “I can’t—Elijah, I can’t—”
My knees give out, but Elijah catches me before I can hit the ground. He pulls me against him as we sink together onto the cold grass beside the grave.
Besides my dad.
Besides his ex-best friend.
My body shakes uncontrollably as the sobs rip out of me, months of guilt and pain finally tearing free. I clasp onto his jacket like he's the only solid thing left in the world.
Through the blur of tears, I see his face.
There are tears in his eyes, too.
And somehow that makes everything crack open even wider.
“I just want him back,” I sob into his shoulder. “I just want my dad back.”
For a moment, I’m terrified.
Terrified that now Elijah knows the truth, he’ll look at me differently. That he’ll see what I've always seen in myself since that night.
A girl who failed the person she loved the most.
But his arms only tighten around me, holding me closer.
There's a strange flicker of relief when Elijah cups my face in both hands.
His hands are rough but gentle as he brushes back the strands of my hair, pushing it back away from my face. His eyebrows are drawn together, his expression tight with emotion.
