Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
As we rolled away, I wondered if somewhere, somehow, Cillian really was cheering me on. If he was helping me move on from his loss. I rarely let myself wonder if he had somehow lived on. If he’d made it to an afterlife where there was no more pain and only peace and freedom surrounded him. We weren’t religious. Never talked about what we thought came next. I didn’t really have any strong beliefs. But I wondered if he ever saw me here, left behind, crumbling without him, and wanted to reach out and tell me it was going to be okay. That I would see him again someday. And that although life on this Earth couldn’t hold him like he needed, he was free now.
Sadness clawed up my throat trying to rob me of the need for that to be true, but two soft squeezes of Savannah’s hand helped me fight those claws back down and clutch on to that morsel of hope.
I rolled my head to Savannah. She squeezed my hand again and sent my pulse soaring. Resilience, I thought as we took to the winding roads back home.
I prayed like hell it could get me through.
* * *
The fire was blazing, England’s clouds still giving us a break and awarding us with a star-filled sky for our final night, like it was saying its farewell too. Around the lake was pitch black, but for Bowness, the tourist area, was still filled with people. I imagined it looked like this all year round, no matter the weather. I would live here if I could.
We had eaten dinner and were now all gathered around the campfire outside on folding camping chairs. I’d forced myself to be here tonight. Not to escape to my room or the window seat that had become my sanctuary here. My emotions were all over the place. It made me feel shaky, and, for once, I didn’t want to face that alone.
Mia and Leo had gone inside, leaving the six of us to ourselves. As much as I liked Leo and Mia, it was nice to be out from under their microscope. Leo had watched me like a hawk. I knew he’d seen a change in me. He had yet to broach it with me yet, clearly letting me sit in this new state for a while.
But I knew he’d pull me aside at some point.
Dylan, Jade, and Lili were using long sticks to roast marshmallows in the flames. Savannah was right where I wanted her—beside me. She had an amused expression on her face as she watched Dylan and the others laugh and joke around.
“I got the goods!” Travis shouted, coming from inside of the hostel, cans of soda in his hands. I huffed a laugh as he handed out the cans like they were beer. I took a Coke from him and sipped at the sugary drink.
Soon, Dylan, Jade, and Lili sat around the fire, and we all descended into silence, until Dylan said, “So, do we think any of this is working?”
The mood of the group immediately shifted from somewhat happy to morose, and like so many times on this trip, we couldn’t escape from the truth of why we were here. Grief was like that, forever reminding you it was close by.
Jade shifted in her seat and said, “I think it’s helped a little.” She cast her wide, brown eyes around the group and nervously said, “It was a car accident.” I froze in my seat when those words fell from her mouth. She stared into the fire and said, “My mama and little brother. One random Tuesday morning.” My heart fell. Savannah was lock still beside me. “It was instant; they didn’t feel a thing. I at least know they didn’t suffer.” Jade began to break. Lili and Travis sat on either side of her and placed a supportive hand on her back. “There’s just me and my papa now. And my grandparents.” She wiped at her eyes. “It’s … it’s been difficult to move on. Impossible to live without them most days.”
I played with my hands, picking at my nails just for some way to expel this nervous energy that was swarming around me. When Cillian died, I’d shut down completely, kept everything inside. I wasn’t used to talking about death so freely. Wasn’t sure I could yet. The few times I wanted to scream how I was feeling from the rooftops, to finally just let the dam of grief break, my protective wall would close everything down.
I felt a tug on my coat sleeve. I glanced to my left. Savannah was offering her hand. My heart’s too-fast rhythm immediately slowed when I took hold of it. She gave me two familiar squeezes and we stayed linked in the space between our chairs. I stayed transfixed at her perfect profile. How did she always know when I was breaking?