by Max Henry
He reaches out across the grass, silently asking for my hand. I take it, my heart alive with the excitement in his eyes. “I’m committed to you, Meg. I’m not here for a summer fling, I’m not looking at getting some sort of temporary gratification. I want to experience everything with you, all of it, right up until we’re old and grey.” He pauses to look around the graveyard with a frown. “Maybe it’s morbid and a little creepy, but you know what I kept thinking as we walked through the rows to get to Mum?”
“What?”
“That this is how I want our story to end: with gravestones side by side that tell of a long and endless love.” My chest is tight as he returns his gaze to me, his expression stern and determined. “I want to marry you, Meg. I want to come home to you every damn night and be constantly amazed by how much more I love you as time goes by. I want our story to be epic. But mostly, I just want it to be ours.”
I wouldn’t have expected anything less than a vague marriage proposal in a graveyard. It’s quirky, unconventional, and everything that we are. I’ve never been more flattered or in love as I am in this moment.
“If that’s you asking me if I’ll marry you—”
“Will you? It doesn’t have to be now, we can wait to do it exactly how you want, but as long as I get to put a ring on your finger that promises one day you’ll be legally mine forever, babe, I’m happy.”
I nod, standing to make my way around to him, smiling like a damn lunatic. Maybe I am a little unhinged? So what? It’s crazy, it’s spontaneous, and it’s everything I want.
“Fuck, babe. For real?” he asks as I reach him with a smile.
“Did you really think I’d say no?”
He shrugs, showing his uncertainty, his self-doubt.
“I want epic too. And the fact you doubt that,” I say, slipping my arms around his sides as he steps toward me, “proves to me that I need to do more to show you how much I want this. Getting married is insane: I’ve just finished school, you’re seven years older than me and unemployed, and I sure as hell don’t have my parents’ blessing. But so what? You make me happy, and no matter what anybody says or does to try and convince me that it’s wrong, I won’t deny it. You’re it for me. Always.”
“Babe….” His hands slip around my neck, holding me firmly beneath my ears. “Life’s fucked up, and I regret the fact you’ve had to experience the pain you have, but fuck I’m glad you went out that night. I’ll never regret the fact we met, only the circumstances that meant we did.”
“Everything happens for a reason, Carver, and I know we were meant to cross paths too. I just don’t know if I’ll ever work out why I had to lose Den for it to happen.”
Carver places a gentle kiss to the tip of my nose. “Should we go see him, then?”
I nod, swallowing hard to bring myself in check. I have no doubt that the second I lay eyes on those letters, Den’s name spelled out for eternity, I’ll lose it. But if I can keep it together until then, it’s a start.
Carver says a quick goodbye to his mum, promising we’ll be back soon, and then leads me down the grounds to the newer plots. He holds my hand, grounding me as I feel the threads of my composure slipping. I’m grasping at air, trying to save myself from breaking apart when I finally felt as though I had it together, but is that so bad? Admitting that I loved my brother so fiercely that his absence still hurts, and more than likely always will?
“Here,” Carver whispers as we come to a stop by a simple cream marble headstone.
I stare into the distance, watching the birds battle the breeze as they fly in the growing drizzle. My desire to know what inscription my parents chose eventually gives me the strength I need to look down at Den’s final resting place.
Denver Andrews
1997-2016
That’s it. No quote, no heartfelt message. No anecdote of his character or his life; just a start and an end.
“Do they charge by the character or something?” I snap, gesturing at the plain stone.
“It might be a placeholder until the final one is made,” Carver surmises hopefully.
Not likely. “If it was, it would be concrete, not marble.” I drop to my knees and run both palms over the damp grass. “Den, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” Carver says, moving to stand behind me. “Don’t feel bad about something you had no say in, Meg.”
I keep running my hands in arcs on the ground, wiping away the rain and turning the grass brown with the mud I stir up. Yet I can’t bring myself to stop it. I thought I’d have so much to say, so many things to tell Den. But now that I’m here, acutely aware that a few feet below my neurotic hands, my brother’s body decomposes, I’m lost for what to say.
I miss you?
I’m sorry our family fell apart?
Why did you fucking leave me?
Nothing seems poignant enough to do his memory justice. So instead, I lie there on the cold, wet ground and stroke the grass until the mud has stuck the blades to the ground and my nails are stained with what will be a painful memory of how this afternoon was spent for days to come. I lie there, emotionally alone, yet comforted as best I can be by the man who vows to be with me through all of these moments, however many more I’ll experience in my life.
But how can he understand? How can he get this particular sense of loss, but also burden in that all my parents’ hopes and dreams for their children now rest on my shoulders alone? Is that why they were so hurt and disappointed in me when I coped the best way I knew how, with a bottle in each hand? Is that why they look at me with utter contempt for choosing society’s outcasts to spend my days with? Because they know that I’ll never amount to half of what they hoped?
How wrong they are. And damn, how much Den leaving really showed me about myself.
I will achieve great things, just how Carver said I would, just like Den believed I could. And what’s best about it, is I will have done it all on my own, without anyone’s help or backing. I’m paying my own way through the course, I’ve made all the arrangements myself, and never once have I asked for a hand up or a favour to get it done.
What better validation for my personal strength could there be?
And then it strikes me, as hard and unrelenting as the rain that has worsened in the time I’ve spent with Den. That’s why Carver cut me off. That’s why he forced me to go away from that visit with the thought that I had nobody left to lean on, that it was all me, and if I didn’t get my life in check then nobody else would be there to point me in the right direction.
Because he wanted me to see. Just like he said all those weeks ago at the truck stop, he wanted me to see why he has faith in me.
I sit bolt upright, startling Carver where he sits behind me as he strokes my back with one hand.
“What? What’s the matter, babe?”
“I get it now.”
“Huh?”
“Why you shut me out. Why you told me to plan my future without you in it.”
He grins, his wet hair dripping in his eyes as he pulls me onto his lap. “Why did I do that then, gorgeous?”
“You wanted me to make my own choices, free of influence. You wanted me to prove to myself that I had it in me to get past this.”
“I wanted you to realise your own strength, how brave you actually are.”
“You were testing me.”
“I was encouraging you.” He closes the distance between us, pulling at my lips with his teeth as he kisses me. “And baby, you’ve done good.”
“You knew if I held out hope that you were coming back to me, I would have waited, put my life on hold,” I ramble, overwhelmed by the revelation. I reach up and place my palm against his cheek. “You knew I would have given up my dreams for yours.”
“Exactly.” He kisses my palm. “But the thing is, Meg, I don’t have any dreams besides you. The only hope I have, the only aspiration, is to have you love me for the rest of your life, no matter what.” He closes his eyes briefly. “I’m not perfect. I’
ll let you down, and I’ll make mistakes, but I’ll never stop trying to learn from those experiences, to better myself.”
“Let’s go home,” I whisper. “Let’s go home so we can get dry and I can curl up beside you, where I’ve wanted to be for weeks.”
He smiles. “And where is home, Meg?”
“I don’t know.” I smile. “But I’ll let you drive.”
EPILOGUE
“Lunch, babe.” Carver holds out my snap-lock container of leftovers as I snatch my backpack off our two-seater.
“Shit, thanks.” I forgot to take it to course yesterday, and we don’t have anything in the bank account for me to buy again.
Life is tough, measured in dollars and cents and which bill needs them more. But it’s ours, and we’re happy with the progress we’ve made.
“Don’t forget to pick up more washing powder on your way home, okay?” I give him a quick peck on the lips as he dashes past me to find his other work boot.
We struggled for five months before he finally found employment in the city. It’s base rate work with the promise of something more if he proves himself, but it’s a job all the same and it meant we could move out of the shared accommodation we were in and find our own one-room flat.
“Come on, or we’ll miss the train.”
He hops across the floor, tugging his boot on. “Yeah, I know. You got everything?”
It’s the same hustle every morning, the same routine, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s tired when he gets in after busting his arse as a builder’s lackey every day, and I’m mentally drained after a day of note-taking and making sure I absorb as much as I can to be sure to ace the end of year exams. Yet we’re together, and our future looks good. He can train in a specific trade if he chooses, or work his way through the ranks with the company he’s with. And once I finish studying and get a job, the added income means we could find somewhere that’s bigger than Carver’s old bedroom at his dad’s place.
I hesitate while Carver opens our front door, and just take him in. His studs might have gone, replaced by high-vis stripes, but the Mohawk remains, albeit shorter, and he’s even added a few small tattoos to the collection. My favourite one being a king’s crown to match the queen’s one I had inked on the back of my neck.
“You okay?”
I nod and take his offered hand. “Just counting my blessings again.”
He looks down at me as we reach the stairs, and smiles. “Forever and always, Meg. I meant it when I first said it to you, and I mean it even more now.”
“Forever and always.”
He links his fingers through mine and we walk the same way we do every day to the station, talking through our wild plans for the future and how we’re going to manage to conquer them one by one.
“You know,” I say as we wait at the platform. “I had a thought yesterday about what you could do if building isn’t your thing.”
“Yeah?” He never complains, but I know that it’s just a job for him; it’s not his passion like veterinary science is for me.
“Don’t be mad, but I made a call and asked a few questions.”
He frowns, looping his arm around my shoulders. “To who?”
“Wolf.”
He gives me a small smile, shaking his head. Tanya’s been dating Wolf for a few months, and the protective side of Carver still struggles with the fact another man is looking out for his sister’s best interests now. “What are you up to?”
“I saw the drawing you did last week.” He tried to hide it from me, stashing it under the sofa. “And it got me thinking. What if you transferred that passion to a career?”
“As a tattoo artist?”
“Why not?” I shrug.
He stares off at the people who mill about waiting on their daily commute also. I can’t pick his thoughts; his guard is up as he turns the idea over in his mind.
“It was just an idea,” I say. “Don’t worry about it. We can focus on getting into a bigger place once I get work first, okay?”
“I like it.”
“You do?”
He nods, bringing his gaze back to mine. “I mean, it makes me nervous to think if I screwed up it’d be forever on someone, but I like the idea.”
I throw my arms around his middle and lean into his chest. “You’d be good at it. I’d let you give me one.”
He chuckles. “Yeah?”
I nod, looking up at him. “It’d be my favourite, even if you screwed it up.” I give him a teasing little squeeze.
“You’ve got me thinking about it now.” He smiles. “I can’t believe I never thought of it myself.”
“You were too worried about me, that’s why. But I think it’s time we thought about what you want, right?”
“I guess.”
“I want you to be excited about what you do, too. Life’s too short to waste time doing the things that don’t make you happy.”
“You make me happy.” He leans down and places a kiss to my forehead as the train sweeps into the station.
I sigh, pulling away so he can board. His ride always arrives first to take him in the opposite direction to me. It’s the hardest goodbye, but also the best hello at the end of a long day.
“Get, before you’re running like you were yesterday.”
He smiles, stepping away and blowing me a kiss.
“Love you,” I mouth, same as I do every morning we go our separate ways.
He glances at the train, and then back at me, before jogging back to stand in front of me to grip my face in his hands. “Love you more, babe.” His mouth closes over mine, and I fall in love with him all over again as his kiss ignites every precious memory we’ve made in our days together.
Although this might just be my favourite one yet… until tomorrow.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
My family—you guys are the epitome of unconditional love. Yet again, I’ve buried myself away with my nose against the screen for days while I try to catch up on deadlines, and yet again you’ve always been there with a hug, a funny story, or a ’snack for Mumma.’
I love you, so much, and the reward wouldn’t be as sweet if I didn’t have you guys to come back to when the rush is over after each book. Always for you xx
Abbey – thank you again for putting up with my unorganized ass, and for telling me I can do it when I think secretly you were as dubious as I was that I’d pull another one out of the hat ;) Every minute spent marketing that you saved me is appreciated <3
You, the reader—what would be the point of publishing a book if nobody was to read it? Thank you for journeying through Meg and Carver’s story with me, and for taking a chance on a new title. Still blows me away that people love my stories as much as I do <3
And to the bloggers—I wasn’t sure how many of you would be interested when I announced I was releasing a New Adult novel, given my tendency to be pretty damn dark and disturbing in my other work ;) But you guys blew me away with your sign-ups, shares, and constant messages saying how much you were looking forward to this. Thank you for everything you do, for every hour you sacrifice for the love of books, and for all the hidden work that goes into running your blogs <3
If you’re a blogger who’s new to me and would like to be a part of any future sign-ups and exclusive content shares, then hop on over and join my Blogger only group on Facebook here.
As always, I’m sleep deprived, living off coffee and cereal, and need to be somewhere else, so if I’ve missed anybody—I love you and thank you.
Onto the next . . .
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born and bred in Canterbury, New Zealand, Max now resides with her family in beautiful and sunny Queensland, Australia.
Life with two young children can be hectic at times, and although she may not write as often as she would like, Max wouldn’t change a thing.
In her down time, Max can be found at her local gym, brain-storming through a session with the weights. Or, she may be out bumping, and jostling her way alon
g a dirt track with the family in hubby’s 4WD.
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