Reaching for my glass of wine, I paused. "Elliot's funding?"
"Why yes. He paid for the entire project."
"What?" I nearly choked.
"Danielle," she said, her tone a little disappointed. "Where did you think the money came from?"
"I … I don't know. I didn't really think that much about it. I guess I just assumed the council funded it."
"The council wouldn't fund a fundraiser let alone fund a garden to honour a local hero."
I fell silent, contemplating what she'd just said as I pushed a piece of sausage around on my plate.
"Have you spoken to him?"
I glanced up. "Elliot? No."
"Why not?"
"He doesn't want to speak to me."
"Danielle, the boy is madly in love with you. He always has been. Why can't you see that? Why can't you see that this rift between you is killing him from the inside."
"And you don't think it's killing me?" I put down my fork and pushed my chair back, pacing back and forth as I gripped my hair in my hands. "He confuses me so much, Mum. One minute he's here. All in. Guns blazin'. He's romantic, quirky and fun. Alive. When we're together, it's as if we both breathe the same breath and share the same heartbeat. He moves, I move. I move, he moves. But then … " I stopped pacing and stared at her, tears flowing from my eyes. "Something happens and he withdraws, becomes distant. He pulls away without a care in the world and carries on as if nothing ever happened. I can't deal with that, Mum. I can't deal with the constant flip. It's too painful. I'd rather not have at all than to have, only to lose it."
She stood up from the table and wrapped her arms around me. "No, sweetheart. Choosing to have nothing for fear of losing what you could have is the biggest mistake anyone can make."
"I don't see how. You can't miss what you never had."
"Oh you most certainly can. Hope, Danielle. Hope cuts you deep but keeps you living. It's what's keeping Elliot living right now."
"What do you mean?"
"He's hoping that one day you'll realise what he already knows."
"That's just fucking stupid." I shrugged out of her arms and sat back down.
"Language!"
"Sorry."
"It's not stupid. Why's it stupid?"
"Because he should just open his big mouth and say what it is he wants to say. It wouldn't be the first time he's done that."
She sighed. "You two are more alike than you think."
I rolled my eyes. Somehow, I just knew what she was about to say, probably because I'd heard it before, and probably because I knew it to be true.
"I knew in my heart of hearts that what you both endured when you were eight years old forged a bond that would never be broken."
"Bonds do break, Mum."
"No," she said with a knowing smile. "Not this one. And I think you know it, too."
I hadn't eaten properly for weeks. Every time I tried, the process seemed pointless. I couldn't taste, smell … feel. I couldn't do. Losing Danielle, yet again, was all I could think about, and it was slowing killing me. She'd been fucking her roommate - a friend she was happy to fuck - and I'd never even seen it coming. I was too obnoxious and self-involved in my own quest for her that I'd forgotten the art of a good blindsight, something I didn't experience all too often. It had really knocked me down and was keeping me there, my struggle to get up and move on from it, painstakingly difficult. But I knew I had to, eventually, perhaps after the garden was finished and I wouldn't have to see her. But then that notion tore me to shreds even more so, because what was killing me the most was that I'd let our friendship slip through my fingers, again, and not being able to see her beautiful smile or hear her sweet voice was the worst punishment imaginable.
Today wasn't about Danielle, though, and it wasn't about me either. Today was about Mr Hillier and his selfless act of courage. It was about paying our respects the best way we knew how; by celebrating the hero he was in a place built in his memory.
"Everyone will start to arrive soon," Mum said, her head on my shoulder. We were seated on the park bench overlooking the completed Hillier Community Garden.
I wrapped my arm around her and hugged her tight. "You're amazing. You know that, right?"
"Yes. I created you, didn't I?"
I chuckled. "Yeah, but you created her, too." I gestured to my sister as she sat on the other side of Mum.
Laura handed us both a takeaway cup of coffee. "What's he winging about this time? Let me guess … Danielle? Honestly, it serves you right. I did warn you that your stupid, immature game would backfire and hurt you all."