My weekend, usually so vibrant with the melodic tunes of the band and my friends, was today filled with an unfamiliar stillness, punctuated by the drumbeat anxiety. Not just my own.
Though my stay in Darby had been but a fleeting five months, it had carved a niche in my heart, while Toronto had receded into the dim crevices of memory like a vivid dream yielding to the morning's reality. With its familiar contours and landscapes, it embraced me with a strange sense of knowing, decorated with memories that danced between the fond and bittersweet to the woefully painful.
It was where I had taken my first tentative steps into adulthood, relished the giddy thrill of first friendships, the electric spark of a first kiss, and the comforting warmth of my mom's food that tasted of love and home. Each street harbored stories. But beneath the sheen of happiness lurked shadows of sorrow, fragments of a past that clung to me and whispered of events I longed to bury and forget.
When I brought the car to a halt, my gaze found Alex. I studied her, absorbing the anxious dance of her teeth against her lower lip, almost to the point of drawing blood, and the unsteady beat of her fingers against her thigh. A motion that usually matched our driving music was now a jagged rhythm, uncoordinated and frantic, one that spoke clearly of her nerves.
My hand found her upper thigh, as instinctive as the breath drawn into my lungs. "Try not to think of the worst, okay? It might turn out better than you expect."
"But if it doesn't?"
"Then just remember that you don't have to stay a minute longer than you want."
Her hand trembled atop mine, her apprehension an invisible current that I could palpably feel. Her features were wrought with tension, her eyes darting around. My fingers curled around hers in a comforting clasp, as if I could squeeze the anxiety out of her soul.
"Will you come inside?" she implored, her voice laced with nervous staccato. "Please, Kay. At least come with me to the door. I think Gabi should be waiting in the lobby. I'm so anxious I think I'm going to faint, and I—"
"Alex," I interrupted her nervous cascade of words. She had done so much for me, and now the time had arrived for me to muster bravery, to set aside my dread of hospitals and be there for her. "Of course I'll go with you, don't worry."
It was a sight that clawed at my very soul. She was wracked with a kind of anxiety that had been a stranger to my previous experiences with her, that I had seldom seen before. Almost as if teetering on the brink of a breakdown. My heart ached with the wish to lift it from her shoulders, to take it all away, and to wrap her up in an embrace where her distress could dissolve, leaving not even the faintest trace of its cruel touch.
As we eventually left the car, familiarity engulfed me, resonating with the countless days and nights I had invested in the city's embrace, exploring its veined streets and navigating its concrete maze. But this place was different. Whispering secrets only my very bones seemed to comprehend, eeriness crawled under my skin.
In the lobby, we were immediately accosted by the air, thickened with a putrid stench, that sickening smell of antiseptic that reeked of memories best left untouched. A pall of death seemed to drape the atmosphere, everything jarringly stilled. The strange sensation only mutated, growing ever more peculiar, burrowing a gnawing disquiet into my soul.
"You actually came." Gabi materialized before us. "You okay? Where's Benji?"
Alex shook her head, her voice quiet. "We took him to Owen's. And it's the smell."
Gabi's features clouded with concern. "Right," she exhaled. "Kayla? Why are you so pale? Everything okay?"
Nothing was okay. My heart pounded a frantic rhythm as the cold hand of realization grasped my soul. The present blurred into nothingness as the past clawed its way into dominance, rooting me to the spot.
My chest constricted as memories, cruel and relentless, reminded me of what this accursed place had stolen from me. So tangible it seemed born from the very bricks, panic gnawed at my core. The mere thought of crossing those cursed doors once more set my heart to a frantic pace, my stomach twisting in an awful dance.
Pristine in their deceptive whiteness, the walls seemed to lean menacingly closer. The stench of antiseptic intensified, clinging to my senses like a ghost from years gone by. My insides churned and twisted with force so powerful as though invisible hands had seized my guts, wrenching and wringing with a merciless force that left me reeling on the brink of surrendering to sickness.
"Kayla?"
I blinked, noticing the concern etched in their eyes. "I'm sorry," I muttered before spinning around. "I can't be here."
Their echoing footsteps pursued me in my escape, a hurried flight from the prison of sullen air and the sterile sting of disinfectant that clung. But even where the fresh air promised solace, my throat betrayed me, clamping shut in cruel denial, while my stomach revolted with a cramp.
A nearby trashcan was my only recourse, my lunch its undesired offering, my body wracked by dry heaves. Flushed with the warmth of embarrassment, my face belied a fear that clenched at my heart with a grip far mightier, a force that dwarfed mere shame and left me trembling in its chilling embrace.
"Kay?" Alex's voice sounded distant, muffled by the rush of blood pounding in my ears, her hand on my back. "Kayla, what's wrong?"
"This is the... uh..."
Hunched over the trashcan, tears threatened to breach my eyes as I summoned the courage to unearth the ghosts that haunted my life. I wanted Alex to know the truth, to see my entirety, but giving voice to those realities was a daunting task.
"This is the hospital where they... my mom and dad..."
Part of me wasn't sure if my whispered confession had reached her. But the sudden firmness of her hand on my back was assurance enough. Her hands moved to my shoulders, drawing my body into her embrace.
"Kayla..." she breathed, her voice grating with emotion. "What? I'm so sorry."
My gaze clashed with Gabi's, whose face bore a portrait of worry, her eyes flitting between us. She weaved her fingers aimlessly through her tousled hair before sinking into a bench, her body surrendering to a deep, shuddering exhale. As if the world around her had grown too chaotic.
I could not tell why it had hit me so hard. Something inside me snapped, and all semblance of progress I thought I had made seemed to evaporate. Everything I thought I knew about myself suddenly seemed uncertain. That was where I had lost not just two people, but a piece of myself. My vulnerabilities were laid bare.
Crushing guilt anchored my heart. The day should have been about Alex and her dad. I had resolved to be strong for her, to reciprocate the strength she had so often lent me. But instead, I found myself crippled by emotions I had failed to understand and cope with, despite six long years.
"Brie, just go. I'll try to come back later," Alex said. "It's a bit too much."
Before disappearing, Gabi left me with a napkin and a water bottle to banish the aftertaste of sickness and sorrow. My nerves, however, were a wild tangle that stubbornly refused to be tamed. Even through determination, sobriety granted unwelcome thoughts a doorway to creep in.
"I'm so sorry," Alex said, seemingly unsure what to do. "What are you feeling? Are you okay?"
I nodded, my legs fighting to keep pace with my thundering heart. "It's just... overwhelming. I'm sorry."
"Please don't apologize," she entreated. "But why didn't you say anything?"
"I don't know," I squeezed out through a tight jaw. "I just know it's something I should handle on my own. And I don't know how to admit it sometimes."
"Look, I knew about your parents," she said. "Gabi told me last month. But why didn't you tell me about the hospital? I would've never asked you to come."
"I guess I had pushed it out of my mind," I stammered. "And I didn't know it would hit me this hard anyway. But why am I not over it? It's just a place, you know? A place with bad memories, sure, but just a place. Fuck, Alex. I feel like I can't breathe."
With measured hesitation marking her footsteps, she ventured closer, finally ensnaring me in a steadfast embrace. Looking for some semblance of stability in a world that seemed to have shifted off its axis, I clutched onto her.
"It's okay," she whispered, the warmth of her breath brushing my ear. "Just keep your eyes closed and let the moment pass. Take a few deep breaths."
Her warm hand glided along my head, drawing soothing circles against my scalp that slowly melted my defenses and evened out my breaths. My senses zeroed in on the comforting thud of her heart, rapid but not too fast, a melodic rhythm that evoked memories of a familiar song my dad used to play to me and my mom.
"They've been gone for so long," I muttered, my voice quivering, "but I don't know how to let them go. I didn't even get to say goodbye."
Her response was a brief, contemplative silence, punctuated only by the rhythmic strokes on my back and her sigh, as soft as a whisper. "It sounds like you're also in desperate need of some closure, Kayla."
"How can I get closure from someone who isn't here anymore?"
"You can't. But you can get it from yourself and find a way to move on."
For too many forgotten years, I had rendered my emotions mute, entombing them deep within myself. And yet, there I was, feeling the same weight of sadness I had felt six years ago. Her mere presence warmed me, a refuge of assurance I was starved for at that moment in time. But I still found myself stumbling blind, bereft of the means to dissipate the fog that had cloaked my existence.
"And how do I do that?"
Instead of an answer, she offered a quiet act of comfort, weaving her fingers into mine and leading me back to the car. We threaded our way through the streets, the hum of the engine, the facades of the city, and my lingering sniffles providing the only noise between us. Until my lips parted and words found their escape.
Our conversations stretched on, drenched in melancholy, a constant battle against a dam of welling tears. I entrusted her with the story of how, after the funeral, it felt as though a part of me had been snuffed out, blown away to the whims of the unmerciful winds of time, never to return. It was a tormenting memory, a gaping void within me that I had never since managed to confront.
And it was only when the engine fell silent that I understood. But I wasn't sure I was ready to go down this path. "Are we really...?" I asked, my voice small.
"That's your call," Alex said, gifting me a fragile smile. "But whatever you decide to do, I'm here, okay?"
The ensuing silence stretched thick and pressing between us while I battled my consciousness. The prospect was terrifying, overwhelming. Until finally, I mustered up the courage to take the first step forward and get out of the car, our every move muffled by the snow beneath.
With its dichotomy of haunting familiarity and cold strangeness, the cemetery beckoned many recollections from the dusty corners of my mind. The towering tree with its bony fingers reaching skyward seemed larger than my memories afforded. Beside it, the bench still stood, its very planks soaked with the salt of tears. Vividly, almost painfully, I could still picture myself sitting there.
Approaching the gravestone, the gnawing pain in my heart seemed as fresh as the day it began. February second, I recalled the day forever scarred in my soul. Louis and Nora Daniels, I read their names. Forever together, Mom & Dad, I remembered picking out the words that seemed to mock me with their promise of eternal love. A cruel irony, given the barren years that had elapsed since I last visited.
The snow sighed underfoot as I lowered myself, struggling to keep my sobs from breaking out, the weight of guilt and regret pressing me down. My whispered apology seemed to be swallowed by the frozen expanse around us, offering no solace or forgiveness. As if in sync with the land, my thoughts froze, and I fell silent once more.
Standing as a reminder of years forgotten, the headstone was weathered and overgrown with frozen moss. Once sharp and defined, the engraved letters were cradled by silt and debris of time. It pained me how my parents, such kind and loving people, lay in such a neglected place.
Each finger quivered in the gelid air as I gingerly peeled away the frost-kissed moss. For every speck of dirt I removed, another seemed to embed beneath my fingernails, but I persevered until not a strand of stray grass remained, until each letter was clean and legible once more.
"Kayla, February second?" Alex said in a hoarse whisper. "Isn't that your birthday?"
Drawing in the biting chill, my breath emerged in a mist, my whisper tangling with the winter air, "It's all my fault."
Her gaze sharpened, as if I'd just uttered words in some forgotten tongue. "What are you talking about?"
My life felt like a web of untold stories, meticulously woven by my own hands, designed to be forever shrouded from the world. Seasons of self-imposed guilt and burning shame had formed a barrier between my tongue and the story of my parents. But I had to accept what could never be denied. Today was all about facing the ghosts of the past.
"On my fourteenth birthday, they were so busy with work they forgot to buy a present. I'd never cared for presents before, but for some reason, I needed it. Only because my friends were coming over. That's why they were on the road that day, Alex. To get me a fucking birthday present that I didn't even want or need. I hate myself for being so ungrateful. I think I actually despise myself for it."
Tears threatened once more, but as they spilled, Alex cradled me. "Jesus, Kayla, that was not your fault. Have you really spent six years thinking it was? Why would you do that to yourself?"
A chokehold gripped my throat as I sifted through the whys dancing in my thoughts, allowing a few to settle. The weight of that tragic day had always felt mine to bear. Chris had echoed it too, for my existence had placed them in that fateful car.
Even though Alex's embrace loosened, her hands held fast to my shoulders, her gaze searching mine earnestly. "Why haven't you talked to anyone about this?"
I shook my head, my gaze faltering. "What's there to talk about? It's not gonna change anything."
"But it might help," she said gently, warmth seeping through her gloves and thawing my tear-dampened face. "Talk to them. Tell them anything you want."
I parted my lips, wanting to say something, but dryness gripped my tongue as words faltered at its tip. I had been just fourteen when they left. And, in ways, I felt like I had been fourteen ever since. Six years felt like an eternity, but in the same breath, not nearly long enough. Many things had been left unsaid, begging for release, yet a lingering hesitance questioned if I was ready to lend them sound.
"Just try it, okay? You can never know."
Her words stirred something within me, urging me to heed them. I wanted to believe her, to place faith in her judgment, for it seemed she possessed a mirror to my soul, reflecting dimensions of myself I had yet to perceive. Perhaps, in her gentle prodding, lay the very truth I needed to grasp.
Advancing a few paces, I sank to the frost-etched ground once more, the chill seeping into my marrow. My thoughts galloped at a frenzied pace as the seconds elongated into an excruciating silence. All the years, all the moments they had missed. I couldn't even remember the sound of their voices clearly, the way their laughter used to embroider our home. They existed in stashed-away photos and hazy memories that were, day by day, slipping from my grasp.
It was then that I finally marshaled the courage to give form to my sentiments, to breathe life into them. "Mom, dad, I'm... gosh, I feel like I haven't said those words in forever," I murmured as a faint laugh slipped past. "I'm not sure what I'm doing, and maybe I'm just talking to myself over here, but either way, I'm sorry I didn't visit you sooner. I hope you're not upset with me for it. I'm sorry."
I talked about mundane things at first. The way the leaves had fallen in the autumns that had passed, painting our old backyard with hues of fiery red and golden yellow. That nostalgia of those summer days, baking pies with mom, and discussing animals with dad in the nearby park. I talked about all the moments I'd wished they could have been a part of but were not. I talked about the clock that stopped ticking after they were gone, and the sound that filled the absent void. The way it used to take me days before I could mention their names. How there were times when I would reach out to dial their number, just to hear their voicemail. The crushing melancholy when their numbers went out of service, when reality would snap back. How I missed my family, missed them so much that it felt like my heart was going to break.
And the floodgates crumbled. The guilt of their loss welled up and spilled out into the frosty winter air, my voice sounding small in the white vastness. So much had been bottled up, and I was eager to pour it all out. I didn't even know where to start.
"I've missed you so much, and I've been so terrified of forgetting you. I hope you know that I never meant for you to get hurt. I still can't believe it happened. Some mornings, I wake up, and you two are the first thing on my mind. Part of me still expects to open my eyes and see you there. And I miss all those things we said we would do together, how we talked about my future even though I was barely just a teenager who hadn't even had a girlfriend yet, let alone a wife or kids. It makes me laugh now. But you two were always so serious about it, and you might have set the bar too high. I think I hold on to those memories so I don't lose my faith, but it makes me sad that you'll never witness that. I'm not even sure if I will, either. So many things have changed. Far too many."
"I know how much you wanted to make me happy, and I took it all for granted. I should've spent that day with you, not with people who meant nothing to me anyway. We could've gone to the zoo. I know we hadn't been in years, and we might've been there so many times that I knew all the animals by their names, but what I'd give to go there with you now. To at least tell you how much I loved you, to say goodbye, to watch birds with you, or to finish that album we started, just so I'd have at least one thing not half-finished. Even to just sit in silence, not saying a word, but to just have you with me again."
"And then I think of all those things we talked about that never happened, like the ski trip we planned and never took, the camping trip that got canceled, and how I never learned to play the harmonica because it drove mom crazy. Oh, and mom, I didn't eat the birthday brownies you made me that year, either. They sat there for weeks until they got moldy, and Chris threw them away. I can never really bake them for myself, but I know how happy you were when people liked your recipes. My friends love them. I try to make them like you, but it's somehow not the same. Maybe that's just me."
"I've thought of you every day since you've been gone. Chris has been taking your loss especially hard. Lillian left him soon after you passed, and he has been struggling ever since. I tried to help him at first, but he doesn't seem to want any help. He loved you so much, dad, and it's been difficult for him. I know people sometimes say that losing your twin is like losing half of you, and that sums it up pretty well. He actually still looks just like you, only a bit older now. And let me tell you, your hair would've gotten even more gray. Yeah, I didn't think it was possible either. Sometimes I used to imagine that it was you instead of him. I know I might sound a little crazy, but sometimes I even told him to stop talking because it didn't sound like you. He would get upset with me because he thought I was being mean. And then he became so unrecognizable. That's when I stopped looking for you in him and looked for you two in the wrong places. I see that now. But some things have been improving for me lately. I can tell you about it if you want me to."
My gaze shifted to behind me, discovering Alex comfortably tucked on the weathered bench. Her lips held the shape of a gentle and comforting smile, her eyes glistening with the sheen of unshed tears. I felt my own sight blurring. With an encouraging nod from her, I turned my gaze back to the tombstone and drew in a fortifying lungful of air.
"Where do I even start?" I spoke, another melancholic chuckle slipping through a sprinkle of teardrops. "Remember how you always used to say that we didn't belong in the city? I've found myself in this small town that I've come to love, and I've made some amazing friends there. There's Sophia, whom I think you would've loved. She has the same taste in music as you, dad. We take good care of each other, and I often play in her band called... oh, no, sorry. I know how you felt about acronyms as band names. And there's also Olivia. I don't think we're friends anymore, but she got me through lots of stuff I thought I wouldn't be able to get through. It's hard, I'm not gonna lie, but I just don't think we were good to each other anymore."
"Oh, and I met Alex again. Yeah, the same one. She's here with me, and I know you can't see her, but I'm sure you wouldn't even recognize her if you could. She's still just as kind and so pretty, if not more. I'm sure you remember; I told you that way too many times back then. You both would have adored her. She loves to bake, and she makes the meanest lasagna. Oh, and mom, do you remember how you used to always tell me that she has a special way with me? I think I get what you meant now. You always said I would find someone special who would make me happy, and she does a pretty damn good job at that. Things are actually going well at the moment, so yeah, I just wanted you to know that. That I'll be okay. I don't have to worry much when she's around."
"And can you believe that she has a son now? Benji. Actually, I'm sure you already knew that, and I was the only clueless one. I know you were probably just protecting me because you thought she wasn't coming back. But she did. Anyways, he's the sweetest little boy and one of my best friends. And remember how a couple of blue jays would always sit on the magnolia tree on every one of my birthdays? Now that I think about it, they were probably always there, but it was a nice coincidence. That's his favorite bird. He has taught me so much about having genuine fun. That has been a problem of mine for the last few years, but I'm starting to enjoy things again."
"I'm really sorry if I let you down with how I was after you passed. I've made some bad decisions that I wouldn't have if you were still here. But I'm better now, and I..." My voice finally caught in my throat, choked by emotions, until I managed to smother the rising sentiment with a smile. "I hope you're proud of me. I'm sorry. It's so unfair that I didn't get enough time with you, and sometimes I feel like I should have done more for you while you were here. Sometimes I wish I had you here to tell me what to do, but it's okay. I'm okay. I'm doing my best, and I know you would want that. Just know that wherever you are, I'm still here and I'm holding on. And always thinking about you. I love you so much. As you'd say, to the moon and back and then twice more."
By the time my voice had cracked on the last sentence, the sun was setting, its dying light casting long shadows across the snowy landscape, the biting wind nipping at my tear-streaked cheeks. I lapsed into silence, the only sound being the rustle of the wind through the skeletal trees and my own shaky breaths.
Alex descended to kneel beside me, her hand tracing warm patterns against my back. We sat swathed in silence for a few timeless moments, absorbing the emotions. A fresh throb of sorrow pulsed through my heart, but for the first time, there flickered a hint of something different. Relief, perhaps, or a nascent whisper of acceptance. But it was strange.
"What's on your mind?"
I inhaled deeply, holding the air in my lungs before letting it out in a shudder. "How I think I'm afraid that if I accept it, I might forget how I feel."
"Forget what? Your love for them?"
I nodded, unable to look at her. I felt like I was losing the one thing that still belonged to me, the one thing that had been constant in my life. "Maybe that's a stupid thought. Maybe I've just wasted all this time being miserable and trying to keep something alive that was already gone."
"Don't look at it that way. It's not a bad thing."
"Six years of torturing myself over this? Not a bad thing?" I chuckled dryly. "I'm still in the same place that I was when it all started. Only I've given up so much of myself just to keep that feeling alive, and now there's probably nothing left to give. And I don't know if I can still get it back."
"It only shows how much you loved them," she said, her own voice battling against tears. "It's in itself your proof that you're still capable of it, that you can still love and care wholeheartedly, even after six years of not having it returned. And that's something that few people can claim to have. Only you've paid the ultimate price for it."
"I'm still not sure it was worth it."
"Kayla, you still have so much to give, that much I'm sure of. More than you realize. And maybe it's time to open yourself up to receiving it, too, because it seems to me that you've been refusing it so far."
"Refusing it?"
"Oh, yeah," Alex huffed. "You just can't seem to accept the fact that people genuinely care for you and love you. It's almost like you're expecting them to fail you, and then you give up at the first inconvenience," she said, pausing before a chuckle slipped past. "Although, who am I to talk? Gabi has tried to get this same thing through my head for years, and it's starting to make a little more sense only now."
I didn't expect her to feel or understand what I was feeling in that moment. I hadn't expected anything when coming here. But her words kindled a warmth that I had never felt before. I said nothing, for I didn't have any more words to say. I just turned my head and finally looked at her.
"I'm proud of you," she said as she smiled. "And I'm sure that they're even prouder."
Besides my parents, she was the only person who had said she was proud of me. And those little words meant so much to me. My emotions that I had been trying to rebuild a wall around came spilling out, and I finally managed to give her a weak smile in return, even through the tears. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me," she murmured to herself and looked away, and I could almost swear that she was about to cry as well. "You're the one that's done the hard work."
In this peculiar way, I felt alright. Actually alright. As if with every breath I was inhaling acceptance and slowly letting go of the regret I had been clinging to for so long as a sort of self-punishment. I knew I had to move on, to appreciate everything that was and to fully accept the things that were no more, and for the first time, I felt ready to do so.
Sitting before their resting place, I confronted the sad reality of their passing. Though a shadow of disappointment might have hung over me for the dreams unrealized, I sought comfort in the memories of our shared time, thankful for the moments we had savored together.
I recognized the need to accept my emotions rather than suppress or reject them. I had always sought to outrun my past, my grief, yet I knew it was doomed to futility. Instead of letting my tears flow in vain, I confronted my emotions head-on and permitted my cheeks to regain their dryness once the sorrow had evaporated.
The sense of loss was overwhelming, as if I had lost them all over again. And yet, acceptance blossomed. I knew that they would never truly be gone. They would remain with me, tucked safely away in my heart. I knew it was a step, however small, toward healing. And it instilled a boundless sense of peculiar peace.
After the spell of silence, I rested my head on Alex's shoulder. But I'd failed to notice her sitting on her tippy toes. My weight sent her tumbling toward the earth, her fingers instinctively clutching at my jacket, playful shrieks piercing the quiet and dragging me along into her collapse.
Our laughter diffused into the sky, light as snowflakes, while we lay sprawled on the wintry ground as though my tears hadn't been staining it mere moments ago. Her lingering giggles whispered sweet nothings to the icy wind, as my face rested in the warmth of her chest.
Heedless of the chill gnawing at my fingertips, I continued to lie there, her body relaxing beneath me. Her breath was a warm wisp against my hair, and the hushed patter of snowflakes, melting upon contact with my skin, a comforting feeling.
For a brief moment, I blinked open my eyes, only to lock onto the warm gaze of her smile. "I have no idea what to say," I admitted, unapologetically wiping my face against her coat. "But how about this being the first time I see your double chin?"
Alex rolled her eyes with feigned annoyance. "Oh, I've seen you drooling on your pillow at night. And there might even be photographic evidence," she countered, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. "It's cute though, in a weird way."
I feigned shock. "No, that's just borderline creepy."
"We're lying on the ground surrounded by graves, Kayla. Talk about creepy."
"But are you cold?"
"No, why?"
I snuggled into the warmth of her. "Then we'll stay like this for a little longer."
She chuckled before dropping her head to rest on the earth once more. "You're adorable."
The amber fingers of the setting sun wrapped around the cemetery, spilling an orange glow over us and all that we encompassed. We lingered, enfolded in one another. The rustling of the leaves and the gentle breeze that had stirred hushed the urban hum, allowing nature its rightful prominence. My heart ached for the luxury of infinity, for that moment to stretch endlessly, so blissfully private and perfect.
But reality soon beckoned me to sit up. Noting the ruby tint of Alex's nose and the flushed hue of her cheeks, I gently moved a strand of snow-dusted hair out of her beautiful face. And with each passing heartbeat, I witnessed her smile bloom ever brighter. I almost wanted to cry again, but not with sorrow.
I smiled down at her. "You're a mess."
Alex discarded her gloves, revealing hands that felt like warmth incarnate against my cold flesh, brushing away the remnants of the tears. "Not as big of a mess as you. You look like you've been through it."
With a soft laugh, I pulled her up by the hand and swept away any lingering snow from her clothes and skin. "Your ass is a little wet, but I think you'll live."
She chuckled. "Yeah, there's nothing more embarrassing than dying from a wet ass."
I turned back to the gravestone. "Uh, I'm sorry you had to see that. I'm sure you'd scold me for freezing my ass off, so I better go. I know this was long overdue, but I'll come to visit you again when I can, okay? I don't even know what else to tell you. I'm sure I'll have more next time."
A gentle smile danced on Alex's lips as her hand found a restful perch on the small of my back. "And if you're interested, her grades are excellent. I didn't bring any report cards though, so you'll have to trust me."
Pressing my lips together, I slowly shifted my gaze to meet hers. For a handful of suspended heartbeats, our faces bore deadpan expressions, only to crack open as unrestrained laughter cascaded out.
"But keep in mind that she might be a bit biased since I'm her favorite student!" I laughed, turning in her arms so I could look into her eyes. "And what, you mean I'm not a complete disaster yet?"
Alex let out a soft snort and gave me a squeeze. "No. Not even close."
The compulsion to enfold her within my arms once more proved irresistible. I felt a pull, a sort of gravitational force, toward her, as if she had subtly shifted from being a constellation in my sky to a sun around which my world had begun to revolve, at the heart of my universe. Nothing but beautiful things came from being around her.
"Thank you, Alex. I can't say it enough."
Just as her lips feathered a kiss onto my temple, a playful gust of wind twirled through my hair. In that fleeting moment, I couldn't help but feel as though the universe was sending me a message—a comforting reassurance that my parents remained by my side, their pride in the person I had matured into echoing through every whisper.
Standing there with Alex, the radiant warmth of her presence permeated my soul, her touch a comfort that seeped through even the thickest of woolen layers. And when she nestled her head in the crook of my shoulder, I drank in the soothing scent of her hair that steadied my emotions.
As we gradually untangled, a beautiful smile unfurled on her face, a ray of sunshine that evaporated every trace of melancholy within me. That was all I needed. Just to enjoy the moment, to breathe her in, and to pray that my mind wouldn't betray me again.
It felt as though a burden had been plucked from my shoulders. Even as the remnants of tears still sparkled in the corners of my eyes, casting shards of light onto the bittersweet curve of my smile, there was an inkling of relief that whispered of imminent tranquility. I knew that all would soon be well. The emotional experience of visiting my parents' graves had unfolded into a cathartic release, coaxing a sense of peace I had hardly dared to imagine.
But reality tugged at me once more when Alex's breath escaped in a weighted sigh. "I guess it's my turn now."