Hello you lovely people,
I promised you that I will never give up on this, and I'm keeping that promise.
Please check out the authors note at the end, it will explain everything.
Happy reading!
Lea
There are many words that I could use to describe Emily's funeral, from beautiful and emotional to absolutely heart-crushing. The beauty of it stems from the vast amount of people who showed up to bid their farewells and respects. The emotion results from the uncountable amount of people who were moved to tears from all the eulogies read out, including River's.
Finally, the heart-crushing facet of the afternoon comes from the fact that I watched a person, who I care for more than my own self, break down as he threw some dirt atop of his sister's grave as she was lowered into the ground.
I did not care that my father, or Georgia, or anyone for that matter could see how I hugged River as he cried into my shoulder, I just hugged him.
After the funeral, we made our way back to the Parker's house where the reception is currently being held. After parking the car outside by the fountain, River and I make our way to the front door, hands interlocked and never dissociating.
"Thank you," he says for what feels like the millionth time today as we both climb up the stairs and reach the front door.
"You need to stop saying thank you, River," I say with gently squeeze of his hand.
His already glittering eyes are glazed over with fresh tears, "thank you," he breathes again. "You're everything."
The warmth of his words melt me, but I try not to let it show as we head into the house. Once we step inside, a few unfamiliar heads twist to peruse us as we enter further. Some direct their empathetic expressions towards River, whereas others seem more curious. Inventorying the people before him, he strokes my hand before stepping forward and to begin welcoming his guests.
For the next half an hour, River moves from person to person, greeting them and thanking them for coming, meanwhile I'm glued to his side, exchanging friendly yet strained smiles with people I've never met before. Some ask of myself, allowing River to introduce me as 'his girlfriend, Lea'. Every now and then, between moving around the entrance to talk to more people, he would whisper in my ear either an 'I love you' or a 'thank you', to which I respond 'I love you more' and 'stop saying thank you'.
No matter how many times though, he doesn't seem to quit. If he thinks he's in some sort of debt to me, he should think again. If anything, I should be the one thanking him, I think I've done more growing up in the past few months of knowing him than in my entire life put together.
"Do you want to go get something to eat?" He asks. Looking at his chapped lips I can tell that he hasn't had much to eat or drink today, so I nod my head.
"As long as you eat something too, doesn't have to be anything big, just something little," I tell him.
A weak smile appears on his face, "anything for you babe."
God I love him so much.
He wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him as we make our way to the kitchen where there is the biggest flow of guests. Instantly, I spot Brenda in the far corner near the open patio doors. She and Malcolm seem to be in a deep discussion, both beholding serious faces as they talk amongst themselves. I realise quickly that River is guiding us in their direction. Brenda looks up at us when we're around a meter away, cracking her sombre guise to curve her lips up into a small, laboured smile. Malcolm follows in suite with his wife when his eyes fall upon River and me.
"Darling," Brenda speaks, reaching for her son and they both share a tight embrace. "You were wonderful today."
After a sweet moment which causes tears to prick at my eyes, they break away from each other to allow Malcolm to hug him too.
"Lea, sweetheart," Brenda pulls my attention away from River. "How are you?"
"I'm okay," I reply, welcoming her embrace as well.
As her arms wrap around my back, she leans into my ear and whispers so that only I can hear. "You're not just okay, you're brilliant, and I'm so glad my boy found you."
It doesn't take much to make my heart jolt, but these words, especially coming from the mother of the man I love, are like electric currents igniting me from inside. For all the moments in which I've doubted myself, or thought I was never good enough, it is times like this that make me feel slightly more confident.
"Lea, it has been a pleasure having you stay with us for the past few months." Malcolm says, causing Brenda and I to pull away from each other. I sort of just want to keep hugging her, she feels like a second mother to me.
Speaking of my mother, I haven't seen much of her, or my father, lately. They've both been busy at work, trying to save up so that we can move out and build our lives back up and I've been busy with school and River. We were never a close-knit family to start, but seeing River's strong relationship with his parents makes me feel sad inside. I wish I had that with mine.
"Thank you for letting us stay, it was so kind and generous of all of you." I respond, genuinely and gratefully.
Nonetheless, the words are quite arduous, since I know the end of our stay at the Parker's residence will inevitably be coming to an end shortly. It's not official, however, I overheard my mother and father talking about moving out as soon as possible to give the Parker's their time to grieve. That's an understandable excuse, yet it's difficult to think that I may not be able to see River every day, especially come exam time.
I cannot and will not leave him when he needs me the most, whether that means sneaking out of the house or going against my parent's wishes.
"You two have something to eat," Brenda points at the array of dishes available to us on the countertops. "Malcolm and I are going to greet the guests." She explains, her tone seeming slightly dubious, before taking Malcolm by the hand and leading their way out of the kitchen.
I can tell by Malcolm's surprised expression that they're not going to talk to any guests, and that was just an excuse to get away. I'm not entirely sure why though.
"They're being shady," River murmurs, reading my mind.
"That's what thought, is everything okay?" I turn my head from the opening of the kitchen, where Brenda and Malcolm have disappeared from, to River.
"I'm not sure, but mum's acting weird." He shrugs. "Would you be okay with getting the food and heading to the wood house? I'll join you after I find out what's up."
I nod, "of course."
I see the faint twitch at the corners of his mouth as his lips attempt to smile, but his red-rimmed eyes give it away – it's as forced as it can be. I want to tell him that he doesn't have to fake it, that it's okay not to be okay right now. "Thank you," he says.
Seriously River? You're like Marissa with her 'Oh my God's.
"Stop, seriously. You need to stop saying thank you. I haven't done anything for you to say thank you." I rub at his arm as I speak, affording a low laugh from him.
"Okay, then instead of saying thank you, I'll just do this." He utters softly before pressing a light kiss against my cheek.
My eyes quickly dart around the room just in case my father is here, but River is fast to realise what I'm doing.
"Lea, don't worry. Your parents going to find out soon enough. I'll be the one to tell them." He gives me another weak smile to reassure me. "I won't be long, okay? Jake and Ky might be there already, but if they're not, there should be a key under one of the pots outside the door."
"Okay, and don't worry, take your time," I reply, squeezing his hand again before he proceeds to find Malcolm and Brenda.
After watching him leave, I turn to the variety of food before me on the countertops, grabbing a plate and load on what I think River would like. Although it's been a couple of months, we're yet to find out about the things the other likes or doesn't like. Honestly, the formation of our relationship was weird and fast, not through the conventional way of dating.
Still, I wouldn't have it any other way.
Carrying two plates of food, I weave my way around the groups huddled together drinking from their wine glasses, all dressed in black. I never really understood funerals – I've always guessed it was a celebration of the deceased life, but how does it help those who are still grieving? For now, as I scrutinise the array of black attire worn by most in the room, the dark colour doesn't coincide with the smiles worn on their faces.
I look down at my all black dress, tights and heels that Marissa lent me. Although I didn't know Emily, there is something inside me that really wishes I did. I guess you can kind of say that I know her through River, of all the wonderful things he's said about her.
A desolate feeling tugs at my chest as the bleak enormity of the situation smacks me, and I sort of feel stupid for it to only now make full sense. Emily is really gone.
***
Walking in heels through the mud is hard.
Although I'm not the best excuse for a girl, I did think that I could manage with heels. But heels and mud, especially the gooey forest mud on the trail to the woodhouse, is a very unfortunate combination. Trust me, the sight of me pulling at my leg to try and un-dig my heel from the mud with every step is probably very cringe-worthy sight to see, especially since I'm carrying a plateful of food in each hand. I don't know how waiters do it.
Well, they wouldn't be walking with heels in mud. Duh.
Luckily, I'm able to make it to front door of the woodhouse without falling over (surprising, isn't it?). Jabbing the door handle down with my elbow, I'm glad to find that it's already open; Jake and Ky must already here. Searching for the key under the several number of plant pots stood beside the door would not be ideal right now.
The door swings open, welcoming me directly into the living room. Watching my footing as I step onto the door mat, I awkwardly try to take the heels off and push them to the edge of the mat with my feet. I don't want to ruin the house with mud marks, neither do I want to jinx my (sort of) success with them on so far by tripping up on something in here. Nudging the door closed with my hip, I attempt to make my way to the kitchen only to freeze in my tracks.
"Lea," A quiet yet hoarse voice sounds from the corner of the room, making me snap my head in its direction.
Although I'm curious of whether my eyes are fooling me, the person I see sat in the far corner of the room with his knees tucked up to his chest and bloodshot eyes is Nick.
"Nick," it comes out barely above a whisper, however the room is so silent that you can hear a pin drop, so he can definitely hear.
When it feels like my feet are rooted to the floor, it takes a lot to make them move further into the room towards him.
"Nick," I say again, only louder. "Are you okay?"
I place the plates of food on the coffee table, still a fair distance away from him. He looks so weak it's heart-breaking.
Despite his lack of response, he gets up from the floor in a feeble manner, as if his body has aged a century. Hesitantly, he takes a few steps forward and I can't help the uneasy feeling evolving in the pit of my stomach. I subtly shuffle backwards, albeit he notices my movement.
"Don't...don't go." His weary eyes are watchful of me.
I wish River was here.
"Okay," I reply, simply because I don't know what else to say.
Lea, he's probably just really hurt and needs someone to talk to. Give him a chance.
An onerous sigh escapes his lips when he finally averts his gaze from mine to look above him at the panelled ceiling of this tall living room.
"How was the funeral?" The words are strenuously said.
I take a moment to consider how to answer, my body tense. "It was...peaceful."
And it was. It was heart-wrenching also, but an odd peace came from it.
His eyes fall back onto mine, a little narrowed as he studies me. "Peaceful?"
Slowly, I nod my head.
I can make out his watery eyes and the anguished expression that he wears on his face, as if he's just been stabbed but is trying keep the pain from showing. The anger River feels towards him is understandable, but I cannot ignore how Nick must be feeling right now. Before, the resentment I felt towards Nick was because I associated him to be the direct cause of River's suffering. Yet, after the voicemail that Nick left a week ago, I realised how closed-minded I was being.
River has a right to be torn by the situation, as does Nick.
It does not excuse Nick's actions but people are not born evil - I don't think he meant to hurt Emily, he just made a stupid mistake that will most likely haunt him for the rest of his life, and now he feels the guilt. I'm just grateful he's here and hasn't done anything to hurt himself. We can't afford to lose another person.
His eyes are now brimmed with tears. Before they can overflow, he brings the back of his hand up to wipe the moisture away.
"How is River?" He asks.
Again, I take a moment to think about what is best to say. "He's not okay, but he's being strong."
At this, his eyes fix with mine. I can tell that he's trying his best to keep it together, but you cannot ignore the gloss casing his eyeballs, or the redness of the white as if it's been ignited with a blaze. His trembling hand immediately grasps onto his face, covering half of it as he starts to bawl in front of me.
My eyes widen, my feet take subconscious steps forward and my heart clenches in my chest.
"Fuck," he whispers harshly. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
"Nick..." I say softly, in an endeavour to calm him.
"It's all my fault," his fingers start to claw at his face, the knuckles of his hand whitening. "It's all my fucking fault. I fucking killed her."
"Nick, please..." In all honesty, I'm lost for words, but the next few come from my heart and I mean them. "You made a mistake, you didn't mean for any of this to happen."
His audible cries quieten as he rubs at his eyes again, having no success at wiping the continuous tears away that spill onto his cheeks. Dropping his hand to his side and with heavy lids, his unrelenting look meets my desperate one.
Nick's next movements are what frighten me. He hesitantly reaches for something underneath his shirt, secured in the belt of his trousers. My watch shoots from his pained face to the object now held in his hand. I wish that my vision is lying, but the more I study the shining metallic surface and the black grip that has his hand wound around it, my heart beat accelerates in dread.
"Nick, what are you doing?" I speak through hurried breaths, glancing from the gun to him.
On second thoughts, I'm glad River isn't here.
***
Authors note:
Hi! Hope you liked the chapter, it's a bit intense, I know.
So I promised an explanation, here it is. I started this book when I was fourteen. That was six years ago (oh God, I'm getting old). And, it was my first proper book. I had little experience back then of writing, and so I hope (lol) that I've improved. That was sort of the problem.
I felt as if my writing style and the things I wanted to write about had changed from when I first started writing this, and for the past year or so, I lost complete motivation to finish this book. It wasn't me, it didn't click anymore. Before I had so many ideas and so much motivation, I could write non-stop for this book, and then it changed - I was completely blocked.
Anyway, come this January, being at university and starting up reading and writing again, I looked back at this book and thought 'why don't I just tackle the issue head on?'. So that's what I've been doing. I've been going through the chapters, editing them and reading your comments. You'll see that I've edited a few chapters, but NOT ALL. I'm still in the process, it's harder than I thought it would be and way more difficult than actually writing the chapters from scratch. Also, exams and stress came in the way, I was pushing myself too hard that I just needed to take a step back, and I did.
So, now, here I am. Excited, motivated, writing non-stop since it's summer and I have nothing else to worry about (except for passing my driving test oh my don't remind me). I feel like my fourteen-year-old self when I first started this, and I'm so so so grateful you are still here on this journey with me. It's your amazing support, whether it be through voting, commenting, following, messaging, that just keeps me going and I'm honestly so thankful for it. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for being patient.
Stay beautiful,
Indie xoxo