Life After Taylah(78)

I will never forgive him.

Kelly has been by my bedside each day, helping me cope. I still haven’t cried; it’s like there’s a block that won’t move from my heart. I just can’t feel anything but this soul-crushing numbness. I haven’t seen or heard from Nate, but Kelly told me it was him who found me. He was the one who saved my life. He saved my life and then he left.

Sometimes I wish he just left me, but that wouldn’t be fair.

It’s taken me days to realize the mistake I made trying to take my own life. As much as I needed relief, it was selfish of me. It was selfish to my brother and to my mother. It’s not what she would have wanted. It wouldn’t have been fair for me to leave Liam alone in the world. I know I have to fight.

But you have to feel to fight.

I feel nothing.

~*~*~*~

“Are you going to be okay?” Maggie asks, tightening the bow in my hair.

I stare at myself in the mirror: black dress, black shoes, empty expression. Maggie is behind me, her hands on my shoulders, staring at me with a concerned look on her face.

“I’m fine,” I whisper. “I finally get to say goodbye to her.”

“It doesn’t make it easy.”

“No,” I say, turning and walking out the door. “But it’s closure. It’s what I’ve always wanted, right?”

“Avery, honey, it’s okay to feel.”

I don’t answer her; I just walk outside and get into the car. She joins me a moment later and we drive to the funeral in silence.

When we get there, I get out of the car and walk over to the casket that’s ready to be lowered into the ground. My heart clenches, the first real feeling I’ve had in days. I pull a pair of sunglasses over my eyes as I stop beside Liam, Kelly, and Max. We are the only people here—she’s been gone too long, and we didn’t make it known to the world that she’d been found. We wanted to put her to rest first

Liam reaches out and takes my hand. I’m grateful for that.

The service begins, and my eyes travel around for Nate. He didn’t come. Why wouldn’t he come? He knows, knows how much this means to me. I thought he cared enough to show his support.

I turn my attention back to the service and listen as the priest talks about a woman he really doesn’t know.

Kind. Loving. Sweet. My mother was all of those things, but she was so much more too. She was happiness. She was light. She was the sunshine on a cloudy day. She was the stars in the sky. She was the mother every little girl dreams of. None of those words could ever describe the beauty that was taken from this world the day my father decided she shouldn’t be here any longer.

I notice movement out of the corner of my eye and I turn to see a man move out from behind a large headstone, and I see he’s got red, sad eyes. I watch him from the corner of mine as the service goes on, and I see he’s viewing, listening, and it’s then I guess who he is. The man she was having an affair with. I stare at him and when he realizes I’m watching, he steps back behind the headstone. Max notices my stare and turns his gaze in the direction I’m looking.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” I croak, my voice broken.

He nods, and puts his hand on my arm.

I listen as the service goes on, and then, as if that’s all her life was worth, the casket begins lowering into the ground. That’s when it hits me, like a hurricane. That’s my mother, my mother who is getting lowered into the dirt. My knees buckle and I go down hard, landing with my hands on the damp soil. I hang my head and I cry. I finally let the waterfall out. Tears soak my cheeks and my body shakes as I hear the creaking sound of her casket descending into the ground.

“I’m so sorry, Momma,” I sob. “I love you. I’ll always love you. I hope you’ve finally found your happy place.”

Max’s arms go around me and he kneels down, pulling me to his chest. He holds me there for so long that the service ends and a light rain begins drizzling down over us. When he finally lifts me to my feet, my legs are numb and my toes are tingling. He leads me over to the car, and I catch a glimpse of Liam and Kelly standing at the door, holding it open.

“Wait, Max,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. “Is he still here?”

He looks down at me, swiping a damp piece of hair from my face. “Who?”

“The man. I want to see him.”

He lifts his head and stares around, and then looks back down at me. “He’s here still.”

I turn, my body weak and stiff, and I see the man standing and staring at the casket that’s being covered over with dirt, roses scattered at its base.

“I’m going over there,” I rasp. I need to speak to him, need him to explain it to me. I need that closure.