Fulfillment(96)

As reluctant as I was about being at Melbourne Cemetery, I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else other than with Bryce at that very moment. I had promised him I would be there to support him on the anniversary of the accident that claimed the lives of his parents and little brother, Lauchie. It was also the accident that subsequently led to Gareth suffering from Dissociative Identity Disorder.





Gareth, Lucy and Nic were walking a few meters ahead of us. Lucy was carrying three large lillies, Nic carried Alexander, and Gareth held a book called the The Hunger Games.

Bryce was by my side as I hopped along with my crutches, crutches I wanted nothing more than to burn by way of a celebratory bon fire. He was quiet; they all were, but not in a bad way. I guess doing this annually for the past 16 years had made each year just that little bit less harrowing...then again, possibly not. Maybe they had just found their own mutual way to emotionally deal and communicate during this particular day, either way, I was still glad to be by his side supporting him.

“Hey, you alright?” I said under a low voice.

He looked over at me. “Yeah, it just doesn’t get any easier, you know?”

“I don’t think it’s supposed to get easier. I just think you learn to accept that you are supposed to believe that it does.”

Bryce scoffed mildly “Yeah, we do tend to fool ourselves more than we fool those around us.”

“Uh huh, we do. It’s one of life’s greatest fallacies,” I said disappointedly.

He placed his hand on the small of my back. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

I looked up into his sad but appreciative eyes. “Me too.”

There was silence for a minute, then Bryce slowed his pace, forcing me to do the same. “I need to warn you.”

“Warn me of what?’ I asked curiously.

“There’s a very good chance you could meet Deirdre today.” Deirdre? Oh...Deirdre. Deirdre was one of Gareth’s alters, an alter that was not only female, but elderly and a mother-hen type, so to speak. From what I had been told, she kind of held the other alters in check and tried to keep the peace.

He struggled to retain a straight face but I could see a trace of humour creeping in. “Let me just say she is...um, how do I put it? Pushy...and forward...and...” He leaned in closer, “fucking annoying.”

“Bryce!” I whispered back, my eyes darting from him to the back of Gareth’s head.

“She is, you’ll see.” Oh God. I hope Deirdre doesn’t want to hurt me like Scott does.

The thought of Scott wanting to hurt me entered my mind, giving me wave of dread and a vision of my fall again. Alexis, stop linking the two together. Scott was not there in the apartment. You would have seen or heard him. I had to keep telling myself that. He couldn’t possibly have been there that morning, could he? No, he didn’t have access to the apartment, Bryce made sure all keycard access numbers were changed after his last uninvited visit.

“Here we go, Hunny.” Bryce said, snapping me out of my thoughts and compelling me to a halt before I ran right up the back of Gareth.

I looked up and noticed Lucy and Nic bent down on their knees, placing the lillies on each of the three graves. Lindsay and Stephanie Clark’s headstones were on either side of Lauchlan Clark’s headstone, and I found it both touching and fitting, as if they were both still nurturing and protecting their young son even in the afterlife.

Gareth moved forward and propped the book up against Lauchie’s headstone. “This one’s a good one little mate, you’ll like it,” he said, his voice soft, endearing and obviously holding an enormous amount of love for his young cousin. It was heartbreaking, but also enlightening to see this side of him. He stood back and took in the grave before him.

Bryce noticed me staring and leaned closer to my ear. “Lauchie loved books, and so does Gareth. He brings him a new one every time he visits.”

Gareth removed a weathered paperback that I’m assuming he’d left here the last time then stood back up while gazing down at Lauchie’s grave with a lost expression. Bryce moved forward and placed his hand on Gareth’s shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze before putting his hand back in his pant pocket.

“God, I miss them,” sighed Lucy as she traced her finger along the letters of her mother’s headstone.

Nic wrapped her arm around Lucy’s shoulder, pulling her head closer to gently touch her own. Alexander squealed at his mother’s sudden closeness while trying to grab at her hair. I hopped two steps forward so that I was standing next to Bryce again, then I slid my hand into his pocket, taking a hold of his and removing it so that I could encase it in my own and let him know I was there for him. He looked down at our interlaced fingers then up to my eyes. His eyes were mildly moist, and the hurt and pain he felt was clearly visible, destroying a small piece of me at the sight of him this distraught. In that moment I decided I absolutely hated the man who ran the red light and caused this overwhelming feeling of grief, hurt, and loss—I hated that man.