Through Her Eyes (26 page)

“No. You can’t take me. I’m not ready. I’m not ready to leave him yet. He needs me.” I lean over to kiss his cheeks. Warm still. “He’s supposed to go to Europe with me.” A strangling sound creeps out of my mouth. My hand lifts to my mouth. “Oh God,” I choke out. “This can’t be the end. So many adventures we didn’t take.” What little is left of my composure bursts like a balloon filled with too much air and breaks me into a million pieces. Parker had always given me strength. He made me strong, and without him, I tear apart. Chase’s arms wrap around my middle.

“No, I’m not ready to leave! Get away from me!” I screech at him just as his arms grasp me. I kick as he lifts me into his arms, scooping me up. “No! You can’t take me from him.” My arms flail to break loose. “I can’t leave him. I can’t breathe. Oh God. I can’t breathe without him. Put me down! He needs me. I never told him I loved him. He never knew! If I had known—” My body shudders with another round of sobs. If I had known those were the last words I would hear from his lips, I might have tried to stop him. I might have memorized the timbre of his voice. The way his lips puckered ever so slightly when he was upset. But instead, I let him leave. “Oh God,” I cry out while I wipe at the tears trailing down my cheeks. “Instead, I . . . I turned back to my outfit. I turned back to picking out my fucking outfit.”

My hands pound against Chase’s back as he cradles me in his arms. My body goes slack from the exertion, but my muscles still shake. Aftershocks. Repetitious trembling I can no longer control.

“Put me down.” It’s a whisper. Barely audible. “I . . . I.” My words are lost in an involuntary sob.

“I’ve got you, Princess. I’ve got you.” The levee bursts. My body crumbles.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry . . . I’m not ready to say good-bye. I’m not ready for him to be gone, Chase. Please don’t take him away from me! I’m not ready. I can’t say good-bye again.” Chase tucks me into his lap, cradling me, and I cry. I cry until I think there’s not one ounce of fluid left in my body. He glances over to Parker. I watch him and want to reach out to him to comfort him, but I can’t. I’ve got nothing left in me.

Chase returns his gaze to me as he gently lifts me up and places me on my feet. With care, he takes my trembling hand and guides us out the door. We don’t say anything as we leave the hospital. Neither of us seems able to speak. Sorrow closes our throats. We enter a cab, and I can barely muster the energy to mutter my address. Then I bow my head.

When we arrive at my apartment, he doesn’t move to enter. I silently pray he does, that he takes me in his arms and makes me forget any of this happened. “I—” My mouth opens, but I’m not sure what I want to say, so I snap it closed. He stares down at the floor for a few seconds before he lifts his gaze to meet mine.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow for the funeral,” he mumbles. His eyes mist over as he speaks.

“Tomorrow?” I can’t believe it’s so soon. But I guess it’s really not soon. Parker’s body might have only died a few hours ago, but his soul left weeks ago.

“Yeah.” That’s all he says, and right now, I’m thankful. If we talk, who knows where the conversation will go, and right now, I’m just not ready to go there. He stares at me for a few more seconds before he leans in and places a whisper of a kiss on my forehead. It’s just what I need, and I welcome the feeling. It soothes me. He steps away and turns with his shoulders slouched forward. I watch him go.

A
NGRY CLOUDS PAINT THE
distance above us. Tiny raindrops trickle down from the sky. Rows of tombstones stand before me, liquid collecting on the smooth, dark marble. It’s only fitting for a day like today. Chase stands next to me, his arm tightly wrapped around my waist holding me up. I don’t have the strength to tell him to stop. To tell him he can’t hold me like that anymore. I know if he were to let go, I’d fall.

The pastor is speaking, his words like a soft hymn above the pitter-patter of the soft shower. It drowns out the anguish coming from Parker’s mother. It drowns out the screams in my own head.

Parker’s father stands and makes his way to the head of the gravesite. My body shakes as he begins to speak. Chase gives me a little squeeze to remind me he still has me. Tears pour down my face.

Mr. Stone’s words finally penetrate my mind. He talks of their many adventures and the old weathered map on Parker’s wall. All the places he’d been and all the places he’d yet to see. His words splinter inside me as I consider my planned adventure with Parker. How I went without him. My chest constricts as if I’m being suffocated. As if a heavy boulder lies on my chest and doesn’t allow me to breathe.

Chase grabs me closer, pulls me into his chest, and I let him. I don’t deserve this comfort. I don’t deserve to be the one standing on the wet grass on this summer day. More people speak following Mr. Stone. Each has a reminisce to share-a story, a highlight of the life Parker shared with us. The clouds part as another friend takes the podium and begins to speak. A tiny stream of sunlight breaks through the clouds. The light glistens off the water collecting on the coffin. I stand in silence, grieving to myself as I wait for my moment to walk forward. The sun shines brilliantly as I’m gestured forward.

Turning to Chase, I whisper, “I don’t know how to say good-bye, Chase.” His hand grips mine as he walks me forward.

“Then don’t. Speak from the heart. Don’t say good-bye forever, just good-bye for now.” He steps away with one final squeeze, leaving me to stand in front of the crowd. A suffocating sensation tightens my throat. My chest heaves from the effort of holding back my sobs. With swollen eyes, I stare at Sophie. She’s standing a few feet away, her eyes glistening with tears. My lips quiver uncontrollably, my throat feels hoarse as I begin to speak.

“All of the memories I have with Parker are so vivid so fresh, as if we were together only yesterday. It feels like only a moment ago he held me in his arms. Like a moment ago, he coaxed a smile out of me. Like only a moment ago, he got me to dream again.

“When I was younger, I used to write poetry. One day Parker found a poem I wrote that was crinkled up. He opened it and read the words—words that I believed were trash. He made me believe in my voice, and from then on, he encouraged me to write those poems. I stopped years ago. Too old to write poetry, I said, but I recently found one. It was Parker’s favorite. I wrote it when I was twelve years old.”

I pull the torn-up, crinkled paper out of my pocket. The pages are weathered and beaten. The words faded from dried up tears.

My castle in the sky

My world so far away

That’s where I can close my eyes

And stay away

My castle in the sky

My home away from home

The world where I can never fail

And always get to roam

My castle in the sky

Where you will never go away

Where no matter what happens

You will always stay

My castle in the sky

Is really in my heart

My soul is very frail

But not with my castle in my heart.

“Thank you, Parker, for always being my castle.” Tears shimmer in my eyes as Chase walks forward and places his hand on mine. I move away, let him take my place, and I sob.

I cry for Parker.

I cry for Owen.

I cry for the part of me that longs to be back on that boat with Chase and pretend none of this is happening.

And I cry for myself.

For the empty feeling that I fear will never fill.

My heartbeat is slow, as if I died with Parker.

Numbness.

Emptiness

“Our journey together has come to the end, and although you are gone, you’ll never be replaced in our hearts. I promise you’ll live on through us . . . Forever. Good-bye, my friend.” Chase says to the casket, then the pastor steps forward again.

“The Lord is my Shepherd. I shall not want. He maketh . . .”

I will miss everything about Parker Stone.

Moisture continues to travel down my chin, and my chest quivers. I turn my face toward the casket. He’s gone. I don’t want to do this without him. I don’t want to be here without him.

Mrs. Stone approaches me, pulling me into her arms. Tears stream down my face as she embraces me.

“That was beautiful what you read. Parker would be so proud,” she whispers as she holds me, our bodies shaking with sobs. With a sniffle, she pulls away and Mr. Stone grabs her tightly and comforts her. As they begin to recede I turn to Chase. His eyes are red rimmed and his obvious pain breaks me further.

“I can’t. When will it stop hurting so bad? What do I do?” I say as another cloud rolls in. Tiny spatters of water hit my nose. Chase takes a step closer. His hand stretches across the space that separates us to collect a drop on his fingertip.

“The best thing you can do when it’s raining is let it. Don’t fight it. Eventually it will stop. Once it passes, you can dry off.” His words mean so much at this moment, and I let myself embrace him. He holds me tightly as I come undone.

No more words are spoken. I melt into him and allow him to comfort me in front of Parker’s grave. I find comfort in his embrace, yet I can’t help but feel I’m betraying Parker. The one boy I ever loved died because I couldn’t take a chance. I fall deeper into Chases’ embrace. With his arms around me, the self-loathing lessens, even if only for a brief moment, and I welcome it. I welcome the feeling of him protecting me from the demons within me.

When we arrive at the gathering Parker’s family was having in his honor, my phone begins to ring in my purse. I’m in such a daze it doesn’t register that it’s my mother calling.

“Hello?”

“Aria Bennett, where are you?”

“Mom, I can’t talk right now,” I say through clenched teeth.

“Where have you been, young lady?

“I’m walking into a gath—”

“You’re such a disappointment. You were supposed—”

Before she can continue her disparaging line of thought, I hang up.
I can’t do this right now.
I can’t believe she can’t even give me peace today. I’ll call her back when I can handle the words she’ll throw at me. Right now I can’t.

“Be strong. I can see that you are about to fall apart, but I need you to be strong. Okay?”

Chase is right. No matter what my mother said, I need to hold my head up. I need to be strong and walk in that door. I shove the phone into my purse. It rings and I ignore it. Before stepping into the house, I pull a compact out of my purse. My cheeks are as pale as death. The only color comes from the rivulets of black bleeding from my eyes.

I follow Chase inside. Friends from his travels across the globe have come to pay their respects and come to honor and celebrate him. It’s the most beautiful and moving thing I’ve ever seen. I take a deep breath to calm down. I force my eyes to close, and static white noise hums around me. It’s jarring. As I open my eyes, time freezes. It stands completely still. Although the room is busy with people celebrating his life, I’m still stuck in a dark, awful place. It feels as if someone physically ripped my heart out of my chest, and they didn’t even have the decency to numb the spot.

I want everyone to stop living, too. But as I observe them gathering and remembering rather than mourning—laughing, reminiscing, telling stories, reliving adventures—I realize that for most, time has, in fact, gone on, and I’m jealous.