During the funeral, I can’t look away from the coffin. Pop’s coffin. The words being said about Pop don’t matter. This guy didn’t know him.
Hell, I’m not sure that I knew him. I wrack my brain, trying to think of things I know about him.
I could read his mood, sure, since it was necessary to surviving in his house. Tell when he was pissed off and I should leave him alone. When he was in a good mood and I could approach. When he wanted to teach me something and when he wanted me to figure it out for myself. I know what beer he liked, and what rum. I know which teams he rooted for and which radio stations he listened to. I know his socket wrench of choice and which brand of oil he’d recommend to a customer.
Yet I can’t think of a single other thing about him.
And he didn’t really know me either, did he?
I’m shaking with cold and nausea as they turn the crank that lowers Pop into the ground. I wrap my arms around my stomach, trying to keep from puking. Trying to pretend that they’re Rafe’s arms around me, like they were when I woke up this morning. Even though I’m the one who told him not to come, everything in me cries out for him.
As the coffin sinks deeper and deeper into the earth, something dark inside me follows it down. I can’t stop the tears from coming no matter how hard I try to squeeze my eyes shut against them.
Rex is holding Daniel tight against his side, and an uncontrollable fury rips through me at the sight. I think about what Rafe said, that my anger is really desire for what he has. And I nearly double over with pain when I realize he’s right.
Because I haven’t just lost Pop. I’ve lost the chance to ever know for sure. To know if Pop would still love me if he knew the truth about me.
I did everything he ever wanted. I worked with him on the cars he loved. I advertised the shop and put together our website. I made sure Brian kept on the straight and narrow at work and didn’t let Sam turn into a corporate douchebag. I lived nearby and drank with him, watched sports with him, went to baseball games with him even though I hate baseball. I did everything he wanted, lived the life he wanted for me, and I still don’t know. I don’t know if one simple confession—a confession Daniel made at sixteen—would have changed everything.
And now I’ll never have the chance to find out.
Daniel’s leaning into Rex and staring off into space the way he does when he’s pretending to be somewhere else. It’s an expression he’s worn since he was about thirteen years old. When he decided he didn’t care about us anymore. When he decided we were too stupid, too low-class, too crude to want anything to do with us.
After, Luther hugs me and I practically throw up. I don’t want anyone to touch me. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I just need to get out of here. I need something that isn’t dark and foul and miserable. I stumble away from my brothers, from the pile of dirt covering Pop. I don’t know where I’m going, just that I need to get out of sight so I can lose it. I fumble with my phone, but my hands are shaking too hard and I drop it on the wet ground.
“Fuck!”
I pick it up, but before I can dial it, I hear my name and look up, confused, to see Rafe coming toward me.
“Hey,” I croak, and he catches me before I stumble.
“Oh, babe,” he murmurs and wraps me in his arms. He guides me into some kind of storage shed, leans against the wall, and pulls me to him.
“It’s okay.” He’s talking low, saying soothing stuff I’m not listening to because all I can do is clutch at his shirt and try not to shake apart.
“Tighter,” I say, and he squeezes me so tight it’s almost painful. But I start to calm down a bit. Stop shaking so much. Breathe. “Rafe, I don’t even know if he would—if he’d known that I’m—that I—that we—I just—I don’t even know if he would—fuck!”
“Colin,” Rafe says softly, and I look up at him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I nod. There’s nothing else to say. And there’s nothing I can do. I missed my chance. I just have to try and live with that.
Rafe is warm and solid, and I can almost pretend we’re back in my bed, waking up slowly as Shelby pads over our legs.
Suddenly, Rafe freezes, and I turn around to see what startled him, blinking away tears in the dim light.
When I see Daniel, every muscle in my body tenses. Rafe’s hand is still on my shoulder, but I am a tiny, cringing thing alone in the universe.
“Holy fucking…,” Daniel mutters, staring between Rafe and me. I can see the exact moment he realizes what’s going on. He drops into a crouch, like the force of his surprise drives him downward, elbows on his knees, looking up at me in shock.