Tears of the Broken (43 page)

Looking around for David, I drew a breath through my nose and
stiffened my upper lip—feeling the pressure of all the grieving
people start to penetrate my emotional wall. When I looked at
Nathan’s mother—crying her heart out for her only child, her
precious and special baby boy—the memory of Harry came flooding
back to the surface with a vengeance.

My
hunger gave way to the green ogre, making my chest quiver as I
fought to suppress violent sobs. Tears boiled up under my lashes
and thrust themselves onto my cheeks without approval. They will be
held back no longer. It’s just no good—all I see is myself, in
place of Mrs. Rossi. I remember how much it hurt to say goodbye. I
know how much she’s hurting right now. But I can’t help her, and
nothing anyone says will ever make the pain go away.

The
repressed grief burst out of me like an uncontrolled gust of
rain-laced wind; I folded over a little more. No. No. Stop. Please.
Not here. I have no right to cry here—for this boy, for Mrs. Rossi.
I never knew them.

But
Nathan is in there—in that box—and even though it’s closed and
covered in flowers, I can see him; as real and clear as I can see
my own hands in front of me.

The
thunder cracked overhead and a flash of lightning lit the coffin in
a white glow—the last light it will ever see. Looking up through
swelling tears, I focused on the tall, familiar man standing near
the priest with his hands clasped in front of him.

Mike? Is that Mike? What is he looking at? Why is he
crying?

My
head turned to follow his gaze, and my heart shot into my throat,
falling straight back down into my gut. Mum. Harry. No. This has to
be a dream.

My
eyes brimmed with tears that spilled at the sight of a tiny white
and blue coffin beside a long, cherry-coloured one.

Dad
leaned closer to me as they lowered the coffins to the ground, and
he whispered in my ear, “I gave them a little blue bear, Ara.” I
jumped back at the sound of his voice so close, and looked across
the way; Dad’s still there—standing beside Mrs. Rossi. “It was the
one in his cot—” he continued, his voice coming from inside my
head. “He had a blanket and a photo of you and your
mum.”

I
looked back at the boxes containing my entire family as the priest
spoke over the smallest one. “Which one, Dad?” I asked. He never
told me which picture he took to lay beside the tiny, broken little
body of my baby brother.

Dad
didn’t respond. But he couldn’t—he’s not standing here with me—he’s
all the way across the other side of the hole in the
ground.

“
As
we lay this child to rest,” the priest said, “may the angels greet
him in heaven. Father, for you are the all forgiving.”

But
what if there is no heaven? What if Harry’s lost out there
somewhere—alone, crying for me, and I can’t come to him. He’s too
small to be all alone. He’s too small to be gone. He shouldn’t have
been there. He should’ve been safe in his bed. He should still be
alive.

I
wiped my face, smudging the rain into the tears while I watched
Mike sprinkle a handful of soil over the coffins. Then, he looked
at me, and my heart stopped beating as our eyes met.

Can
he see me? I can’t move—can’t cry. This can’t be real. Mike can’t
really be standing there—right in front of me. “Mike?” I called out
to him, but he looked past me.

“
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” The words of the priest filled
my ears; they sound too real, like I’m still there.

“
Ara?”

My
mind snapped back to the reality of a cold, rainy day. People
sobbed hysterically around me, and Mrs. Rossi fell into my dad’s
chest, hiding her face.

Lost
in the unbelievable realism of my memory, I hadn’t felt David place
his arm around me. His voice, saying my name, echoed in the
distance of my memory. I looked up at him for long enough to see
extreme concern behind his eyes, then I attempted composure in the
form of a deep breath and let my gaze drift back to Nathan’s
box.

As
it slowly lowered closer and closer to the ground, I thought about
the empty space—the horrible moment which brings everything into
reality the minute you leave the funeral and walk into that vacant
house.

Before they’re gone, before you bury them in the cold, hard
ground, everything seems surreal, like they’re just on a shopping
trip or somewhere in the house where you can’t hear them. But when
their flesh touches the earth and settles in the final destination
for all eternity, it takes with it the cloud, the safety of the
cage that hides you from believing they’re never coming
back.

When
Nathan’s mum gets home, she’ll fall apart. She’ll cry until there
are no tears left and it will still do her no good. Nathan will
never come back—Harry is never coming back.

My
shaking hands turned to ice. David’s grip tightened around me,
making hot blood rise into my chest and flood backward over my head
and spine.

All
the things they’ll miss out on; it’s too much to bear. Nathan will
never finish high school, Mum will never see me get married, hold
her first grandbaby and…I swallowed hard and pressed my shaking
knees together—Harry will never go to school, never paint his first
picture, never learn to walk…and he never even got to have a
birthday party.

Oh
God, it’s my fault. I took all those wonderful things from them. It
should have been
me
. Why wasn’t it me?

The
oxygen around me felt over-used. My head rocked back and forth
inside, and as the shivers ran from my hands, up my arms and into
my chest, I heard a quiet gasp—and everything went
black…

Grains of sand fell through a narrow passage in a glass jar
and hit the base with a soft pattering. The ground swayed gently
beneath me while the canopy kept the chill of rain from touching my
skin.

The
frosty rushing of my whole world feels calm now, closed in by the
warmth of the summer sun. It’s just David and I, standing on the
island in the middle of our lake, watching the rain fall onto the
leaves above us—staying perfectly dry in the hidden clearing where
I had my first kiss. But it wasn’t a real kiss—it was fake. David
doesn’t love me. He was just pretending. He only wanted to make
sure I didn’t kill myself.

A
heated tightening twisted my stomach and the grains of sand hitting
the glass splashed into my eyes—burning them—forcing them to
close.

What’s going on? Where am I?

The
dry sting of the sand lifted my mind from the dream of David, and
with a rush of panic, my eyes flung open to the grey, dreary day,
and right by my brow, the strong chin of a man—the breath from his
nose brushing my fringe.

I’m
being carried. How did I get here? “Dad?” I muttered, my voice slow
and hoarse.

“
Shh,” he whispered into my head. “Shh, it’s okay, honey. I’m
taking you home.”

“
Dad? What happened?”

“
You
fainted.”

“
I
what?” I rolled my head to the side and looked around the church
car park. “I fainted?” But—I didn’t get to say goodbye to
David.

“
I
should have known better. It was just too soon.”

“
You’re going to be okay, Ara,” Vicki said from beside Dad,
holding an umbrella over me while she dripped with rain.

I
touched my hand to the back of my head and pulled out a piece of
grass. “Did I hit my head?” It’s pounding.

Dad
nodded. “David caught you, but he was a fraction of a second too
late.”

“
He
only stepped away from you for two seconds to place a rose into the
er…and you fell,” Vicki added.

“
I
must admit, though—” Dad half laughed, “—he made it to your side
quicker than I’ve ever seen anyone move. I almost didn’t see it,
myself.”

So
he didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye to Nathan—because of
me. Why did he catch me? He should’ve let me fall.

Dad
whispered something softly to Vicki—something ending in the
word
David
. My
ears pricked up.

“
Is
he—” I hesitated, “—is David mad with me?” I can’t look at Dad. I
feel so ashamed of myself.

Dad’s head moved slowly to look at Vicki again.

“
Ara, why would he be mad with you? You didn’t mean to pass
out,” Vicki said.

They
won’t understand, so I said nothing else. Dad placed me in the back
seat of the car, and the door swung open on the other side. “I’m
fine, Vicki, you can sit in the front with Dad,” I started, but my
eyes fell on something magnificent. “David?” That’s it. That’s the
last straw. My face crumpled and fell into my hands. How can he be
here? How can he look at me like that; so concerned, so worried? He
should be worrying about himself. Not me.

I
wanted to tell him to go away, but his arms, as they fell around
me, pulling me into his cool, firm chest, held me so tight my body
couldn’t shake. Even the soaking rain, making his suit icy cold
against my face, couldn’t bother me. “Shh, sweet girl.” He stroked
my hair, whispering into the top of my head, “It’s okay. It’s going
to be okay.”

“
No,
it’s not.” I sobbed uncontrollably. “Nothing ever is.”

“
Don’t say that.” He slid down in the seat a little more and
wrapped his arms tighter around me. “You mustn’t say things like
that.”

“
Dad?” I lifted my head, speaking a little louder to project
my voice over the heavy pounding of rain. “I’m so sorry—did she
see? Did Mrs. Rossi see?” I started sobbing again and fell against
David’s chest. He brushed my hair out of my face.

“
Ara, honey. Mrs. Rossi’s more worried about you,
okay?”

No!
No, she shouldn’t be worrying about me. My head shook against my
hands. What have I done?

“
Ara, please stop crying?” David pleaded softly and pressed
his widespread fingertips over the side of my face.

He
smells so good, and he’s just so sweet. That rich, orange-chocolate
scent, the scent that could only be David’s, matches his gorgeously
gentle personality so well.

My
sobbing stopped short for a second when a loud rumble emanated from
the ogre in my belly. Uh-oh, Dad heard that.

“
Ara? Did you eat breakfast?” Vicki asked in a high-pitched
tone.

David’s chest sunk as he breathed out deeply, pressing his
cheek against my forehead. “No, she didn’t. Silly girl.”

“
Ara?” Dad sighed. “You know better than that. What were you—”
He stopped, almost visibly biting his tongue. “It doesn’t matter.
When we get home, you need to go straight upstairs. Vicki and I
will fix you some food and bring it up. Okay?” Dad looked in the
rear-view mirror—more at David than me.

I
nodded, and David pulled me closer to his saturated shirt. We’re
almost home now. The sweet smell of the frangipani trees in Mr.
Herman’s garden scented the cold, wet air coming in through Dad’s
window, and I breathed the last few minutes of David I will ever
get.

Chapter
Sixteen

Dad
let David carry me upstairs, much to my disgust and against my very
strongly worded protest. He walked with a smug grin on his face the
whole way, carrying me with little effort—even less than my dad. I
wonder if maybe I’ve lost weight somehow. Butterflies pulsed in my
stomach as we glided up the stairs in one sweeping movement, and my
heart raced under David’s cool breath as it brushed against my
cheek. I wish he’d walk slower so I could stay in his arms
longer.

When
we stepped into the warm, soft light of my room, a wave of relief
washed away the tight feeling in my chest. David stood me on the
ground and held me up with one hand as he pulled the quilt back on
my bed with the other, then lowered me onto the pillow—smoothing
the rain away from my legs before sliding my shoes off my
feet.

“
Thanks.” I smiled down at him.

“
No
worries.” David smiled back then turned and placed my shoes neatly,
side-by-side, next to my bedroom door.

Something clicked then—a memory—of waking to find myself warm
and safe in my bed, instead of asleep at my dresser where I’d been
crying.

The
air stopped flowing to my lungs for a second. It can’t be
possible.

Pieces of my life over the last few weeks started to fit
together. That night, before David and I had the fight—my window, I
shut it before I went to bed, I remember doing it. But it was open
in the morning. The shoes, the way they sat neatly by my door. I
assumed it was Dad—but what if it wasn’t? I know
I’d
never do something
like that—not even if I was sleepwalking.

David pulled the quilt up to my chin and frowned at my
wide-eyed, open-mouthed expression. My fingers froze on the top of
my quilt, clutching it tight enough for my nails to press into my
palm through the fabric. He stood up, stiff and slow. I saw his
throat move as he swallowed and looked over at the shoes. I looked
at them, too.

That’s all the confirmation I need.