I didn’t quite make it back to the waiting room. I guess my feet decided to stop working. I sunk to the ground, my back against the wall. My wails filled the halls. I didn’t care who heard me or who saw me. I couldn’t stop them. I needed to let it all out. I couldn’t keep this pain bottled inside me as I was tormented with one thought…
Everyone leaves me.
I pulled at my hair, kicking my feet against the floor.
My cries began to draw attention.
I saw Trace come out of the waiting room to investigate the noise, and when his eyes landed on me his mouth fell open in horror.
I shook my head, my throat clogged with tears, to tell him that Trent hadn’t made it.
Tears streamed from his eyes as he shoved his fingers through his hair, making it stick up wildly around his head.
He looked back at the waiting room and then at me.
I watched as he walked a little ways down that hall from me. He reared his hand back and it shot forward, punching the wall repeatedly. His anger and sadness was palpable. A male nurse came running towards him and restrained Trace so he couldn’t do any more damage to his hand. They led him away—no doubt to clean it up, and maybe even stitch the wound closed.
It made me think of the injury to my hand on New Year’s Eve—when Trent had so tenderly taken care of me. It had been our last night together. It was sweet and perfect and over far too soon. Here we were four months later. He’d found out the truth and now he was dead.
Fuck.
Dead.
He was gone.
Like, really gone.
As in never coming back gone.
My heart hurt and my soul felt incomplete.
How on Earth could I be expected to live the rest of my life without him?
I’d have to.
I was going to have to take every day one step at a time. I’d live and love that much harder, because Trenton couldn’t.
He’d always live on in our son.
And in my heart.
epilogue
three months later…
The warm summer breeze tickled my face and I couldn’t help smiling as I closed my eyes, lying back in the tall grass. It scratched my skin, making me itch, but the sun felt so good on my body that I refused to move. I felt so peaceful—something that had been rare in the past few months.
I reached out, smiling as I pulled a dandelion from the dirt.
“Row!” Ivy yelled and I sat up to see her running towards me. She crashed into my arms and then fell to the ground giggling.
“What are you doing, silly girl?” I asked her. “Where’s Tristan?”
“He’s fine,” she shrugged, looking around. “I like it here. It’s pretty.”
“Mhmm,” I hummed. “It’s like a little oasis.”
As if she didn’t hear me, she smiled widely, pointing to the flowers surrounding us. “Can you make me one of those braided crown thingies with flowers?”
“I’ll try,” I grinned, picking the flowers surrounding us. “It’s been a long time since I’ve made one of these.”
Ivy sat down beside me, crossing her legs as she watched my movements. I finished the crown and laid it delicately on top her head. “Now, you’re a real princess, Ivy,” I ran my fingers through her long wavy hair.
She beamed at my words. Since my mom died, Ivy had really come out of her shell. She was always so happy and smiling. She thrived on words of praise and I tried to give them to her as often as I could.
“Now, you need one, Row,” she stood, skipping around to gather more flowers. “Then you can be a Queen!”
I laughed, adjusting the skirt of my dress.
Once she’d gathered enough flowers she sat down once more. “Can I help make this one?” She asked.
“Of course,” I carefully showed her how to braid the stems together. In no time she had it mastered and I let her finish it.
When it was done, she placed it on my head in the same manner I had done hers. “All hail Queen Rowan!” She squealed, jumping up and running in circles around me.
I laughed, turning my head to watch her run.
I marveled at how much a few months of not being in a toxic environment had changed her. She wasn’t as timid and shy anymore. She was blossoming, and so was I.
For the first time in all my life I finally felt like…me.
I was no longer a ghost, drifting through the shadows.
Trent had given me that gift, and I was thankful for it every day.
I’d done a lot of growing since New Year’s when Trent found out about Tristan. With the loss of my mom, it had been easy for me to become the person I was always meant to be. She couldn’t harass me anymore, and Jim was serving life in prison for what he’d done to Trent.
Life wasn’t perfect for me, not by a long shot, but it was getting there.