“Are you sure, Avery?” Max says.
“I need to do this.”
I walk away before he can say any more. I slowly walk across the damp grass towards the man standing by my mother’s grave, tears running down his cheeks. He lifts his head when he sees me approaching and his eyes widen. He looks as though he’s seen a ghost. I know he saw me before, but I guess up close it makes it more real.
I take him in as I stop a few feet in front of him. He’s a good-looking man for his age. He’s got short salt-and-pepper hair, eyes as blue as the sky, and a tall, broad body that’s currently covered in a black-and-white suit. I feel my chest constrict as I stare at him, knowing that once, even if only for a while, my mother loved this man. Whatever her reasons were, he meant something to her and I can’t hate him or her for that.
“You look just like her,” he chokes out.
“Why are you here?” I ask, my voice low.
“I just . . . I wanted to say goodbye.”
“Why?” I breathe.
He looks at me, his eyes scanning my face. “You know why.”
“What’s your name?”
My questions are scattered, that I know. They match my mind right now. It’s all over the place and I can’t seem to get it straight.
“My name is Blayke.”
I swallow and take him in. “My name is Avery.”
“I know,” he says, his voice growing thick.
Tears burn in my eyes and I close them, rubbing furiously to stop them escaping.
“There are so many things I want to ask you,” I say, looking up at him. “Like why? Or how long? But the thing I want to ask probably the most is the simplest of them all. Was she happy? The day she died, was she happy?”
A tear falls from his eye and drops onto his cheek as he smiles at a clearly painful memory. “Do you want to know the last thing she said to me before she left the hotel room?”
I nod.
“She said that she had to go because she was going to make apple cupcakes for you. She said they were your favorite and she couldn’t not make them, because you loved them, especially after school.”
I sob loudly and rub my hands over my face.
“They were,” I whisper. “They were a complete accident. She was making normal cupcakes one day and I begged her to put apple in. She told me they’d taste horrible, but it turns out they were delicious.”
He smiles and wipes his own tears away.
“Can I ask you something else?” I whisper.
“Anything.”
“Did you love her? I mean, really love her?” I pause and run my hands over my dress, taking a deep breath. “My mother to me was faultless. She could do no wrong. To hear that she had a secret lover, it damaged something inside me. I don’t ever want to see her as being the person that did so wrong but sometimes it’s hard not to. Maybe, maybe if I understood . . .”
“I loved her,” he says, cutting me off. “I know how it must look, how it must feel, but the truth was that we found something in each other. A connection, a bond, an everlasting love that was hard to stay away from. She changed my life. I would have spent the rest of mine by her side if she hadn’t disappeared. I can’t tell you what we did was right—it wasn’t—but I can tell you that I loved her from the moment I laid eyes on her, and heard her soft laughter, and to this day, I still love her. The reality is, I’ll never stop. Not until the day I die.”
I reach out and take his trembling hand. “I know she loved you too.”
“How could you possibly know that?” he rasps.
I smile and let go of his hand, turning away from him. Before I leave, I look back over my shoulder. “I know because my mother was a good person. She believed in family and she believed in love. She would have never risked so much for someone she didn’t love.”
“Goodbye, Avery,” he says to my back as I walk off.
Finally, a little piece of my heart has been put back into place.
CHAPTER 34
AVERY
It’s been two weeks since we buried my mother, and in that time I’ve not heard from Nate. I’ve not seen him. I don’t even know if he’s okay. Instead I’ve gone about with my life as normally as possible. I take each day as I can, one baby step at a time. I get through it, I go to sleep at night, and then I face a new day when I need to. It works, it keeps me from going crazy, and it keeps me from sinking into the black hole that is trying so hard to consume me.
“Avery?”
I hear someone at my door and I turn, staring at it. That voice is familiar, but I can’t pinpoint who it belongs to. I get off the couch—the place where I spend most of my time—and walk over, pulling it open to face Lena. I’m shocked and for a second I just stare at her. The first thought that pops into my mind is completely random. For a sick woman, she looks awfully good. Her black hair is loose around her shoulders and her eyes are quite bright. Brighter than they were the last time I saw her.