Page 131 of In Your Wake

Exactly like my heart did in Mitchell’s bedroom.

During the burial, out of the corner of my eye, I watched him staring at the coffin, felt him right next to me even though he was far away. I hoped it was the same for him, that he could feel me supporting him in the only way I could. But instead, all I felt from his side of the lawn was resentment. The low, undulating bitterness that’s kept him from looking at or speaking to me all morning.

Still, knowing that we’re going through this together, even if apart, provides me a sense of comfort. Then again, I could be clutching at straws, desperate to cling to whatever smidgen of affection there might still be between us. To know that what happened in his bedroom, more importantly, what he said to me and how I chickened out, wasn’t the last of us.

My mother gives me a hug, then leaves with Hunter, who walks her to her car. I’m still so upset that she showed up today, but she insisted. It’s not my place to deny her the right to pay her respects. But what’s even more surprising than her showing her face here is Robyn’s unexpected civility. I’m not sure I could have handled that situation with such grace. Then again, that’s what makes Robyn who she is.

I don’t need to see Mitch to know he’s close. I sense him hovering in my periphery. But without the shelter of the other mourners who’ve all trickled away, I’m exposed and very cold.

When I woke this morning, the dark clouds turned into a miserable rain that also brought a northerly wind. Though the rain stopped an hour ago, it forgot to take the cold along with it.

I take a chance and approach him to talk. He keeps his arms crossed, his hurt obvious. But when he doesn’t walk away, I grasp at the chance he’s giving me, holding onto it even as my stomach lurches up into my throat.

“I’m sorry, Mitch. Sorrier than you’ll ever know. For everything.” I sit beside him, desperate to hold his hand, but tuck mine into the sleeves of my sweater instead. “When you said what you said, I couldn’t handle it. It was too much. Because for so long I adored you. Almost like you were this unattainable thing. And let’s face it—you were. So, when I saw you with Jessa, it was all just a confirmation that I wasn’t what you wanted. That you’d never see me the same way. That I’d never have you.”

He grimaces, tilting his head. “Max, you were there in the tent. I wanted you. Didn’t you feel how much I wanted you?”

“No, I get it. But I was sixteen,” I offer with a shrug. “Anyway, I’m getting off track here. Plus, I’m freezing my tits off, so…”

I glance toward the mound of dirt and cringe, but when I look back at Mitch, I see the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth, and my heart feels whole again.

“The point is, I’ve realized over the last couple of weeks that this isn’t about my guilt for lying, or hating Jessa, or being angry at you for leaving. And this isn’t about how I reacted when I was a kid. This is about me not being able to deal with how much I feel for you. How much I’ve always felt for you.”

I stick my thumb through my sleeve, and without realizing it, I’ve stretched out a hole.

“It destroyed me when I fucked it all up between us. Whether it was our friendship or whatever we had. I never hated you; I hated myself for ruining what might have been. For not even trying to fight for you. You’ve always held this enormous place in my heart, and I should have fought for you. But now I see that we’ll never have that chance again.” I inhale deeply and raise my gaze to him, then roll my shoulders back. “And knowing that I loved you, but not enough to tell you will always be one of my biggest regrets.”

He watches me for a few minutes before shifting his gaze away. “I don’t get it. Why did you tear me down when I opened my heart to you?”

I laugh dryly. “Imagine knowing the person you’ve adored almost your entire life feels the same way about you. There’s no way you wouldn’t freak out a little. Everything hit me hard. I just… wasn’t ready.”

Slowly, he draws his gaze back to mine, his eyes brimming with tears. “So, what are we doing here? Because every second I’ve been back, I’ve been falling harder for you. I won’t keep doing it if there’s no point.”

“For now, we need to take our time. Let all this marinate.”

His brow furrows as he looks at me like I’ve gone crazy. “Marinate?

“We’re caught up in this storm of sadness and hurt, and our feelings aren’t reliable.”

“You think I don’t feel what I feel? That it’s not real?” He sniffles, wrinkling his nose. “I’ve said I love you before, to others. But I’ve only ever meant it when I said it to you.”

For years, I dreamed of hearing those words from him. Like a tidal wave, the regret that he never said them sooner crushes me. That neither of us realized how stupid we were being. More than anything, I’m furious with myself for falling so deeply in love with my best friend that I can’t see or think straight.

“I don’t doubt you love me. And I love you. We’ve always loved each other. But the timing’s off.”

Mitchell slides his hand across the bench as if to risk a touch, but settles it on my arm instead. The heat of his hand permeates through my thick sweater, and my insides crumble like a torn-down wall until I feel like I’m falling.

When we were younger, Mitch used to be there to catch me.

Not this time.

“I gotta go.” And with a kiss on my temple, so soft and so light, it’s almost as unnoticeable as the gentle sea breeze sneaking through the tombstones, he’s gone.

For a few minutes, probably longer, I sit without moving.

He’s genuinely gone this time. I know it, like I knew it all those years ago.

It’s like a giant wave settling on top of me, one that won’t let me swim away and that grabs me from below. If I go into the ocean, if I swim out too far, I’ll get carried out to sea.