“Aston,” I whispered in agony.
No response.
“Why won’t you talk to me? It hurts so much.”
He shook his head, finally acknowledging me. “I don’t mean anything by it. I just…I need to be alone, El.”
“Being alone is the worst thing you need to be, Aston. Let me be there for you.”
His green eyes shot to mine, the raw pain lingering there as he replied, “You don’t understand, do you? This was my fault. He…He would still be here if I didn’t…if I didn’t take him to that restaurant. I could have had a day out with him any other time, but I was too fucking impatient, and now look what I’ve done.”
He was blaming himself? No, no, no. He couldn’t do that.
“That’s not fair, Aston. None of this was your fault. None of it.” I took his hand with both of mine and squeezed. “Believe me. We need to stick together. That’s what Dad would have wanted.”
He gently withdrew his hand from me. “No, El,” he replied softly, “that’s not what he would have wanted. He didn’t want us together.”
My eyes widened. I felt like I’d been punched in the chest. I stared at him for a few moments, searching for signs he was lying. “No,” I denied, “that’s not true.”
He looked at me hollowly. “It is, Elise. He didn’t approve.”
I shook my head, not understanding. “Why wouldn’t he approve?”
“There would have been no future for us.”
“Why?”
“He said we were too young. We…we might hurt each other and the family would break apart.”
I swallowed, ignoring the weight I felt from his words. “But we won’t hurt each other–”
“El, the point is he didn’t want us together,” he repeated again, harder this time. “He said it. Out of his own mouth. Those exact words. ‘I don’t want you together.’ I’m not lying. I’m telling you what he said, and you need to listen.”
I continued shaking my head. “That doesn’t change things.”
“It changes everything,” he retorted, pointing at the headstone. “And that’s the fucking proof, El.”
“That’s not true. He didn’t mean it that way –”
“He did, and he was right.”
My lips trembled. “You didn’t fight for us?”
His eyes narrowed, and he glared at me. “You have no idea how hard I fought.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean –”
“Don’t make me talk about this right now, El. It’s not important, not after everything that’s happened.”
“But it is important. I need you right now –”
“Would you just stop it already? Just…give me space. Leave me alone. I” – he closed his eyes briefly – “need to be alone.”
He turned and walked away. I stared after him, panic rising. “You’re just angry,” I said, my voice small. “You don’t…you don’t mean it.”
Either he heard me, or he ignored me. Either way, he left me, and standing there, feet away from my dead father, a gaping hole in my chest, no arms to wrap around me to make it better, I finally felt it.
I felt the rupture.
I felt the stab of pain rising.
I felt the raw ache behind my eyes.
And, on a breath, I felt the tears fall. They fell heavily – and mercilessly – down my face. And to my horror, no relief followed.
*
Interesting what death can do to a family. Bring you closer together, or break you apart. I was in a family that didn’t want to mourn together.
Every day for two weeks straight I waited for someone to pick up the pieces. I’d pretend everything was normal when I woke up in the mornings. I got the coffee ready for Mom, removed the box of pop tarts from the pantry for Aston, and then I made myself a bowl of cereal and sat at the table, waiting.
I didn’t eat. I kicked the Fruit Loops around in my bowl with the spoon, waiting for normalcy to return. It just never happened. They resisted, and my fight for togetherness went ignored.
Still. I busied myself. I cleaned the house and brought trays of food to Mom and Aston. They were always left untouched outside their door, so I’d take them back down, wash them and put them away before starting all over again the next day.
Doing the laundry was the hardest. I had a basket of Dad’s clothes I couldn’t bring myself to wash. I’d meander to that room and pick up his uniform shirt. I’d bring it to my nose and inhale his cologne, and I swear to fucking God, it was like he was in that room with me. With his scent everywhere, I pretended he was standing next to me.