“Open the door, Holly.” Someone bangs on the window, but all I can see is my tunnel vision and I’m spiraling into it at full speed.
“Holly, open the door or I'll break the window.” I hear another voice, this time deeper, but I can’t control my actions. My main worry is not letting the darkness take me. A large smash pulls me back, then my front door opens and I’m pulled from the driver's seat by strong arms. I don’t know what I was thinking trying to get out. I know I’m not capable of driving, not capable of even talking. I just needed to get away from here.
“She can’t drive in this state,” I hear Kadence say behind me. My mind doesn’t fight the intrusion and my body sighs at the strength.
“I’ll take her to my room,” Sy’s voice rumbles from his chest.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I hear someone argue, maybe Jesse? But the heaviness of my heart makes it too hard to speak.
“I’ve got her,” he says, still moving forward.
“You need to take it easy on her,” another voice orders but I don’t hear his reply. My body gives up the fight and my eyes become heavy. The only comfort I feel is two strong arms holding me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Sy
I pull up at the dark, empty parking lot and cut my bike’s engine. I haven’t been out here in the last few months, but no matter how long it’s been, it never gets easier. In the beginning, I used to come out here every other weekend. It was my way of feeling connected to her. I would sit under the stars and try to picture every part of her face, and I'd talk to her. Tell her about my day and ask how she was doing. Some nights I would fall asleep under these stars, and wake on the dew-covered grass feeling like my world shattered all over again when I realized I wasn’t dreaming, but living the nightmare.
“Hey, baby girl,” I greet her as I place her favorite daisies down. “Sorry I haven’t been back in a while,” I tell her, brushing stray leaves off the marble headstone. Fall is here reminding me of another Christmas I have to get through without her. After cleaning up the area, I sit back on the cool grass in front of her. I wasn't sure coming here tonight when I was hurting so much would be wise, but now I'm here, I know I made the right decision.
“I miss you, Keira,” I say, looking up at the same stars that have always been here. I sit in silence, running over everything that happened back at the clubhouse earlier tonight. I want to rewind the whole fucking night, go back to earlier in the evening when I was making love to Holly, not tearing her apart.
“I hope you're doing good up there, baby.” I close my eyes and breathe in what I imagine her reply would be. Something about how she is having a wonderful time and how much she misses me.
She always had this upbeat attitude, always finding the good in everything. When she lost her hair with the aggressive chemotherapy, she still found a positive to it. Telling her mom and me that now all the pretty hairbands she loved to wear wouldn’t get lost under her thick dark curls. She wore those headbands with pride, not caring that her bald head represented a sickness that was going to kill her. Instead, she showed the world that even though her body was failing her, she was still going to do everything a seven-year-old girl wanted to do.
“What did I ever do to deserve this?” I roar up at the sky in anger, reliving those memories. I’m not expecting an answer to my question, no one ever replies. I learnt a long time ago that grief never goes away. I’ll always live in two worlds: the world that was with Keira and the world today. And the only way to survive is to find a balance between both. I thought I had been balancing the two well, but now—now I don't even know where my head is.
I just know tonight I want to live in Keira’s world, the one that holds no answers or happy endings; just memories of my daughter, some beautiful, some heartbreaking. I know I’ll find it hard to come back. I always do. Only now, it's made harder with both worlds filled with loss. Resting back into the cold dew of the late night grass, I let the grief of the past and the grief of the present wash over me. I know I need to go to Holly, see if she’s okay, but I can’t. Right now isn't about Holly; it's about me. So I lie at the foot of my daughter's grave and mourn the loss of two children. I let the years of pent-up tears fall. I let the anger running through my veins out and punch the soil that houses my child. Hating that this is my life, and knowing that there is nothing I can do about it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Holly
Guilt and grief are my only friends. One weighs heavy on my heart while the other mocks me from afar.
“Holly, are you okay?” Doctor Elliot asks, pulling me from my inner thoughts.
“Yeah, I’m good.” I readjust my hands, looking back up. That's the second time in the last thirty minutes I’ve drifted off into my head—drifted off remembering Sy’s words.
“Want to try that again?” She smiles, seeing past my bullshit.
“I’m getting there,” I admit, and it’s the truth. Finally having the truth out there isn’t as daunting as what I thought it would be.
“So, as I was asking, have you heard from him?” she repeats the dreaded question.
“Not since that night. I’m giving him some time.” She gives a simple nod, no compassion in her eyes. It’s been a week since that night at the clubhouse. After Sy smashed my window to get me out of the car, he carried me back to his room. The panic attack that hit was one of the worst ones I’ve experienced. I wouldn’t have driven off since I couldn’t even keep my eyes open. It was as if my body was shutting down because the whole situation was just too much. He didn't say anything as he held me through the uncontrollable sobs that racked through my body knowing that my secret was out. I wanted to talk, wanted to tell him how sorry I was, but the words wouldn't come. I could sense his anger as he held me from behind on his bed, and I didn't blame him for it, but I didn't understand why he was holding me with tenderness when I knew he didn't want to. He didn't want to hold me in that moment, but he did. He held me until I fell asleep and then I woke up alone in his bed the next day. I didn't know where he was or if he was coming back, so I left, wanting to gather myself together properly before I saw him again.