Authors: Lindsay Detwiler
Tags: #romance, #contemporary, #contemporary romance, #women's fiction, #sweet romance, #loss, #second-chance love, #second-chance romance, #soldier, #comedy, #humor
T
o Say Goodbye
© 2016 by Lindsay Detwiler
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any written, electronic, recorded, or photocopied format without the express permission from the author or publisher as allowed under the terms and conditions with which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.
To Say Goodbye
is a work of fiction. All names, characters, events and places found therein are either from the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to persons alive or dead, actual events, locations, or organizations is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.
For information, contact the publisher, Hot Tree Publishing.
www.
hottreepublishing
.com
Editing:
Hot Tree Editing
Cover Designer: Claire Smith
ISBN-10: 1-925448-42-8
ISBN-13: 978-1-925448-42-9
TO MY HUSBAND, CHAD
SOPHIA
T
he rain pelted against the umbrella above her head, but a few rogue drops managed to slap against her chilled cheek. They intermixed with the tears streaming down her face, creating a sympathetic harmony of her sadness and of nature’s seemingly melancholy mood. The weather befit the occasion, a punctuation to the sea of black circling the soggy earth around the casket.
She could feel her pointy-toed stilettos sinking into the mud. She knew by this point splotches of the sickly, sticky earth were probably all over her shoes, but she didn’t dare look down. This was not the time to worry about her shoes, the weather, or anything else. It struck her as ridiculous that these thoughts were even swirling in her mind.
The rain continued to pound as the pastor droned on about salvation, faith, and heavenly things, but Sophia only heard a string of pointless words. She felt nauseous, felt hungover from grief. Faith did not exist anymore for her. Faith could not exist in a world without him.
She didn’t know if she would be able to cry today. She’d cried so many tears over the past few nights, she thought she might be empty. Then again, she also didn’t know if she’d make it through today standing. She wondered if—in fact, she hoped—she would fall to the ground, a heart attack panging in her chest from her grief. She wanted to lie in the gaping hole in the ground and bury herself beneath him.
She, quite simply, wanted to be dead too.
She could feel the gazes penetrating her, pitying her, gauging her reaction. She tried to look the prim and proper part of the solemn wife, flanked by her parents and in-laws, standing close to the casket. Inside though, something else was creeping in, something besides the skulking, downtrodden feelings.
Moments of rage began to infiltrate her, a silent warfare bubbling within.
How could this have happened to her? These sort of things didn’t happen to women like her. Sure, like everyone, she’d experienced tragedy before. Grief had grasped her with its suffocating grip several times in her adult life, but this was a completely new level. He wasn’t here this time. She couldn’t lean on his shoulder, feel him wrap his arms around her, have him drag her out of the pit of sadness. She’d never been through something like this without him. She’d never endured a shredded heart without him there to help piece it back together. She wasn’t equipped for an ordeal like this, wasn’t strong enough.
Tim had been the pillar in her life for the past ten years. He’d been her best friend, her laughter, her teammate. He’d been the man to help her recover from disappointments and failures. He’d been the one who remembered her favorite drink at their favorite restaurants and who could order for her if she was running late. He’d been the one to embrace her on a bad day, to kiss her goodnight, to wrap her in his warmth as they fell asleep. He’d been her everything.
Now her everything was gone. How would she do this?
She wouldn’t. She just wouldn’t.
She would carry on through today for him, to honor his memory. She would say goodbye to the man who had been her foundation. She would honor his life. Then she would succumb to nothingness. She would sit and slowly watch her life fade away around her, watch everything blur by as she sat still. She would wait for death to come, for the end of her pain. Until then, she would just tick away the time.
She perused the crowd of mourners as another prayer started. Across the huddle, a man stood in a black suit. He wore sunglasses, probably to hide his grief-stricken expression. There was no umbrella to shield him from the weather. He stood unmoving, stoic, and rigid. He did not chant along to the prayer, did not wipe at his eyes like the other mourners. He stood, stubble marking his jaw, stone-faced, one hand clasping the other wrist. He did not move a muscle, his military training probably preparing him for a moment like this.
She hadn’t seen him since an encounter they’d had months earlier, hadn’t even thought about him. Of course he was here, though. He’d been Tim’s best friend for years. Just because they’d grown apart didn’t mean this loss wasn’t impacting him. Fading friendships didn’t make a loss any easier.
Before today, he’d been just a passing thought, a mere coincidence. Now, Sophia looked at him in a different light. Now, he was a relic of a life gone by, a memory of a man who was no longer here.
She stepped forward at her mother’s prompting to say her final farewell. She felt herself breaking down, melting, falling apart. People crowded around her to help her through, to tell her it would be okay. She was tired of hearing it, even if they meant well. Things were not okay. The grief struck in waves, threatening to physically overpower her. The rain intensified. Her sadness and the cold, pelting rain were unbearable.
With her peripheral vision, she saw him approach. He shoved his sunglasses back out of respect to approach the grave. He gently tossed his white rose onto the coffin, and Sophia looked up at him. His face was still stone cold, stiff, but she detected something familiar—a tear streaming down his face. It was almost undetectable, mingling with the rainwater also running down his cheek.
He stood by her, not touching her, just staring into the grave.
Finally, he broke the silence. “What a shitty day.”
Sophia’s heart ached and her tears streamed. Her nose was so stuffy she felt like she was suffocating. She felt like it was a physical chore to breathe, as though she had to remind her lungs how to work. Somehow, though, his words comforted her. It was hard to hear someone else say the words plastered on her heart, but in a strange way, it was a relief too. Finally, someone else was saying what she was thinking.
It wasn’t going to be okay. She wasn’t strong. She wasn’t going to find her way without him.
A world without Tim was just a shitty excuse for a world.
It was over. Tim was gone. Now they were all left to pick up the pieces of a world forever changed.
SOPHIA
T
hree months later
––––––––
T
he alarm’s ringing was an unfamiliar anthem to Sophia, and it startled her. She wasn’t used to having to pay attention to time, to get up and be somewhere. She groggily rolled over to hit snooze, her head pounding from the incessant sound.
This had been a terrible idea. As she tried to fall back asleep, she thought maybe she could put it off for another day or two. Stella wouldn’t begrudge her one more day at home.
Rolling onto her back and rubbing her eyes, though, she knew she had to get up. She’d given herself the much-needed time away. She had promised herself, had promised Stella, she would get back into the swing of things. Life was going on with or without her. She had to rejoin the land of the living. She swung her legs out of bed, her heart heavy as it always was in the mornings. She tried not to take note of Tim’s side of the bed.
Tim’s empty side of the bed.
She strolled to her closet, toward the back to get real clothes. She didn’t even know if they fit anymore. Yoga pants and sweatshirts had been her uniform for the past twelve weeks.
Pulling on some jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt, the color of her life now, she headed to the bathroom to examine her hair. Her blonde locks were a frizzy disaster. Her own hairstyle was probably not going to instill much confidence in her clientele today. She couldn’t bring herself to care, though.
These days, she didn’t care about much.
She rustled her hand through her waves, deciding the messy look would have to do. Her alarm rang from the bedroom again, and she headed to shut it off. After fiddling with the buttons to stop the annoying sound, she saw a text from Stella.
Stella: I’m so glad you’re coming in today. I’ve missed you so much! I only booked you for three appointments. We’ll ease into it. Xoxo
Despite her apprehension, Sophia smiled. She’d missed her best friend. She was lucky to have such an amazing friend and business partner. Because of Stella, she’d been able to have the past few months to heal, or at least to wade through her grief.
Sophia headed downstairs to make her coffee. She would eat a muffin at the shop for breakfast. As she sat at the kitchen table alone, heaviness rose in her chest. Today was the day. She would take a step away from Tim, away from the life they had. She had to start piecing together an existence by herself, a life without him.
These past three months had been excruciating. Despite her parents, in-laws, and friends, she’d sunken into a deep depression, a hermit-like state of existence. She wanted nothing to do with the outside world, believing if she could stay in the cocoon of their home, maybe she could stay a part of Tim’s life. Maybe she wouldn’t have to acknowledge he was gone. Most days were the same. She wrapped herself in the veil of silence in her house, her thoughts and memories ricocheting off the walls around her. It was maddening, but it was still easier than facing the world, facing the questions, facing the stares. She didn’t want to pretend she was okay. She didn’t want to hear fake words of encouragement. She wanted to melt into herself, to feel like crap, to mourn alone. She wanted to pretend she didn’t live in a world without him. She wanted to lock herself away in their memories, surround herself with the familiar walls she had called home with him. She wanted to pretend he was just away temporarily and would be back any moment.