He had become a memory, a memory that would fade with time, like the scent of his skin and the color of his eyes, or the feel of his face when he leaned into my hands. The vision of him, still fresh in my mind, would soon fade away. The only thing left was the hole in my heart, the part of me that would be buried here forever.
I sank to my knees, the nylon of my stockings soaking up the mud that caked the ground, thanks to the rain that had been there since he left, since he was taken from me. My eyes slipped closed as my silent tears finally spilt over. Agonizingly, they tumbled down my frozen face and dropped onto my ruined stockings.
Jude came up behind me; the soft ground muffled his footsteps. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. I felt him.
He bent down and wrapped his arms around my shuddering frame. “Come on, Haven.” Such a simple request, yet the hardest one I’d ever had to comply to. The last thing I wanted to do was leave. This was my goodbye, but I still wasn’t ready.
Jude picked my exhausted, broken body from the soggy ground, his arms strong and sure around my middle. I laid my head on his chest, his heart thumping steadily, reminding me of both the man I lost and the one standing with me, holding me up.
Dylan. Jude.
Closing my eyes once again, tears continuously fell down my sodden cheeks, the rain washing away the traces of my sorrow. I wanted to sleep, to close my eyes and sleep for days, months maybe. I wanted to rouse thinking this was all a horrible nightmare and that the man I loved wasn’t being lowered six-feet underground, but instead, was waiting for me at home.
Our home. Our empty shell of a home.
I clutched Jude’s shirt and sobbed. “Oh, God, he’s gone.” My lungs fought for oxygen as I struggled to catch a breath. “I can’t—I can’t! This is too much. Make it go away! Please!” Desperate pleas through gasping intakes of air, rushed out. My eyes screwed shut while my mouth opened in a silent scream. He just held me. No noise, just Jude.
My heart remained in pieces, shattered the day Dylan left me. I thought it had once before, but Dylan had put me back together. Now, I’d fallen again and this time, the pieces were unsalvageable. There was no putting my heart back together again. Bile, acrid and sharp, rose up into my throat. Was that what grief tasted like? Acid? The stuff that could burn a hole through anything…it felt as though that was exactly what was happening. A giant hole was burning through the life I wanted, but had mercilessly been stolen from me.
The rest of the service and Dylan’s wake went by in a blur. I didn’t know if I was even present. I couldn’t remember anything beyond watching him be lowered into the ground. I was numb.
Except, I remember Jude. He was there. He held me, silently comforted me, while I splintered apart, piece-by-piece in his arms.
He put me to bed that night. I was wearing one of Dylan’s shirts and sweats, so he must’ve helped me out of my soaked dress and stockings.
I remembered waking the next morning, smelling bacon and smiling. It felt like a bad dream, and since the bed was cold where Dylan used to sleep, my mind immediately drifted to him just waking and making us breakfast. I padded to the kitchen to find Jude, still wearing his suit shirt and pants from the day before.
Realization hit hard. The bacon no longer smelling appealing but making my stomach turn. The sounds of clinking glasses and the spatula dropping on the counter were stark noises that rang loudly in my ears.
Every memory flooded back and tears filled my eyes. I refused to let them fall When Jude looked at me, all I could do was stand before him. After a second, I turned and went back to bed, curling up in a ball of sorrow, unable to face a world where Dylan wasn’t holding me in his arms. I didn’t want to be awake. I didn’t want to talk to anyone or put on a brave face. I just wanted him.
“Haven.” I stirred at my name.
“Dylan?” I whispered, coming out of my dream state.
“No, baby. It’s me. Jude. You need to eat something.”
I cracked an eyelid and closed it again. Tomato soup and Jude just wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted Dylan. “No.” I rolled over and pulled the blanket over my head. Shutting out the world around me, I curled into a ball and lost myself in the darkness. But even that wasn’t enough to block it out. I craved the oblivion only the drugs could give me. The feeling of not being or feeling anything. The problem being I was too empty and exhausted to get up and check the bathroom for Dylan’s left over meds. And I didn’t have a doubt that Jude would have already removed the temptation from my sight.
My dream state was a much happier place. Dylan was with me. He was healthy and well…he wasn’t gone. I could keep him while I was asleep. Besides, sleeping hurt less, and the bed where I lay drowning in my own pain was the last place I had him. It was ours and ours alone.
“Sweetheart, time to open those pretty eyes for me.” I pulled the blanket down from my head, knowing very well I wasn’t about to see him beside me. The weight on the bed wasn’t quite right. The pressure on my arm wasn’t his. The smell that saturated the air wasn’t anything close to Dylan.
“Come on, lovely.” The voice that woke me from my fantasyland this time was Teeny. “I’ve brought some of Ma’s meatballs. They’re your favorite.”
“I don’t want to,” I answered in a meek voice. All of my energy had left with Dylan. My heart, soul and body all went with him; only pain remained.
“I know, honey. I now you don’t want to,” Teeny replied with a wobble in her voice. “We need you to eat something though, Haven. Please.” Even Teeny’s plea didn’t make me want to be present.