by B. K. Leigh
I don’t remember how I got there, but somehow I end up in my bed, with just my sheets to catch the never ending flow of tears.
Chapter 34
Tatum
Days have passed by in a blur. People have been in and out of my house like a hot new burger joint. Some have brought flowers, some have brought food, most have given their condolences. It’s a reminder of when my parents passed, but strangely enough this is a different kind of pain. It’s a constant ache deep within my soul. I feel as if my other half has been ripped away from me. It’s my fault. It always is. Bad things are always happening to me, to the ones I love. And now they’ve taken Cohen. They’ve taken my heart, and soul, and I don’t know if I'll ever be able to recover from a loss like this.
I walk into the church and take the first seat I see. The hard wooden pew is cold to the touch as my black tights rub against the grainy wood. The loud chatter quiets down to hushed voices as many different pairs of eyes land on me. My spine stiffens with anxiety as I pray like hell this day will be over soon. I twist the bracelet around my wrist over and over but it does nothing to bring me comfort.
I never thought I'd see this day. The day I watched as they buried my best friend. I never thought I’d see this many people pretending they gave one fuck about him. All these kids we’ve gone to school with for years, and never once had any interactions with him. Yet here they are standing at the front of the altar bawling their eyes out as if they even knew an ounce about him. Some faces I’ve never even seen before and yet they stay here taking up space at my best friends funeral.
I chuckle to myself, gaining a few questionable looks from the people around me. Cohen would be laughing with me if he were here. Shoving a bunch of sad and depressed people into a tiny little church room is humorous, especially when you only know about five of them. And that really only extends to his parents, Grams, and Haley.
A sudden shrill scream rings out and every pair of eyes shoot towards the front. There in the arms of the Vicar and Cohen’s mom Kathy, is Cassie Stamer. She’s bawling her ever loving eyes out. Men and women of all ages rush to her side to try and console her. She looks like a train wreck. A beautifully put together train wreck.
Her eyes are puffy and swollen with tears. The black mascara she dabbed on running in lines down her cheeks leaving streaks of ruin in their wake. To any one in this room she looks like the grieving girlfriend, but to me she just looks like a fool. Cohen only spent about a handful of his time with her, and ninety percent of that time was mainly concerned with getting in her pants.
A pit of anger begins to burn through my body as all the concern in the room goes to this girl who was so irrelevant to Cohen and his life, but is here at his funeral soaking up all of the attention that is supposed to be on him. It doesn’t take long for me to finally get moving and storm my way out of there.
Actors.
All of them.
One person talks about the one time Cohen lent him a pencil, while another girl talks about him sitting next to her in math class. I’m done listening to everyone being fake. I follow the worn foot path to the back of the building and find myself walking through a sea of gravestones.
A Cemetery.
Where most are put to rest. I can’t help but have a sour taste in my mouth. Cohen deserves a warm bed, a stocked fridge, and a packed bowl. He’ll be cold, he’ll be uncomfortable, he’ll be lonely. I’ll be lonely. I can’t see a future without him. I can’t imagine a world where he never gets to meet Bean. A world where he’ll never get to be there for her. He’ll never get to be there for me. There are so many things that were cut short not including his life. He still had decades to go with me and Bean by his side. Now it’s just empty. The air is still and quiet. There’s no more midnight rides, no more late night cuddles. He wont ever meet me at my locker again. He won’t crawl through my window. This what I’m feeling inside is real, it’s raw, and it’s painful. But no one sees it. All they see is people like Cassie, reaching for the rooms attention. They don’t see the ones who hurt on the inside. Who are dying on the inside, suffocating from the pain that's slowly squeezing the life from them. No one even noticed I left. No one even cares. I was Cohen’s other half. His best friend. His soulmate. But now none of that even matters. Now it’s all about who can put on the best act.
It’s just all too plain. Too gray. It’s not what he would have wanted. My eyes catch sight of something in the distance.
Purple.
A purple flower stands tall in the late winter breeze. My lips tilt upward in a slight smile. My feet begin to bring me towards this enigma. There’s barely any green left on the trees or the ground, and yet here in the middle of this dreary cemetery is a purple flower. It’s been a mild winter, but the cold is still strong enough to freeze the bones off anything. Only a few inches tall, but bright enough to attract me from a far distance. Bean chose this exact moment to kick my ribs in just the right spot. My hand goes to my belly, knowing she can feel it too.
“He’s still here, Bean. He loves you always.” I try to give her the reassurance I wish I had in times like these. Another thought of Cohen not talking Bean to sleep at night runs through my head.
“You know you’ll get sick standing out here like that.” A deep loud voice sounds from behind me. I don’t even have to turn around to know who it is. “Tatum?” He tries again. This time I do what I tried not to. I turn around.
Killian stands before me looking as handsome as ever. He’s wearing black slacks that fit him just right, paired with a white button down and black blazer over it. I let my eyes travel from the tips of his toes to the ruffled hair on top of his head. My head tilts to the side as I take in the dark bags below his eyes and the concern written all over his face.
“You okay?” He asks taking a step closer. “You look freezing.” I look down at my bare arms and take in the goose bumps rising all over my skin. But I don’t feel the cold, except for Bean I'm not feeling much of anything lately.
“I’m fine.” I answer. It feels as if we’ve been standing here for hours. Just the sound of our warm breath mixing with the frosty air. The flower that brought me over here has long been forgotten about as the man I wanted for so long stands directly in front of me. But he’s not the one I want anymore. I’d do anything to have Cohen back with me. Anything.
Bean begins to kick again, and even the touch of my hand against my belly does nothing to calm her. Killian’s eyes follow the movement and I can see him wanting to come closer, but not letting himself make the move.
“Here, put this on.” He takes off his blazer and finally breaks the distance between us. “It’s freezing out here.” I still can’t shake the awkwardness of this entire situation. I make no attempt to reach for his jacket, forcing him to drape it across my shoulders himself. The smell of cologne invades my nostrils as Killian leans in. My eyes close briefly as a calm warmth takes over my body. For one second I am able to pretend I’m in a different place. A place with the man I fell in love with, a place where my best friend isn’t dead, and a place where Bean will grow up with a father. We had a game plan before. Even if Killian wasn’t there, Cohen would be. But now there’s a wrench in that plan. It’s just me and Bean. And one day she’s going to grow up and leave me too. As if being slapped by the reality of it all I practically jump backward, putting as much space between Killian and I as possible.
“What are you even doing here?” I finally am able to find my words, and force them past the lump that’s been lodged inside of my throat for the past week and a half. He looks taken back as he takes a minute to process my words.
“I came to-” He looks around to find the right words. “Pay my respects.” He finishes. His voice trails off toward the end, and I can hear the guilt swimming inside.
Lies. I think to myself as I look from him to the small church in the distance. I didn’t realize how far I had actually walked. The peace and quiet I had hoped to find had diminished the second I heard Killian’s voice. I rais
e a questioning eyebrow and he doesn’t miss it. “I came for you.” He finally lets out. There it is. Half of the people here came for all the wrong reasons, so I can’t blame Killian for coming for me.
“I’m fine.” I repeat. Even though we’re outside, the tension in the air between us is starting to suffocate me. Deciding to cut whatever this is short, I grip the soft material of his blazer and remove it from my shoulders. His eyes watch my movement the entire time and only once do they move to the bump under my tight black dress.
“It was nice seeing you.” I muster up enough courage to hand him his blazer, and be the first one to walk away this time. It feels good. Having him be the one to watch me walk away. To watch me walk out of his life. I don’t go back into the church. The weight of the day has me feeling tired, and nauseous. Instead I go home. To do what I’ve been doing since I got the news about Cohen. I’m going home to lie in my bed and cry myself to sleep for what will probably the millionth time.
Chapter 35
Tatum
As the days grow longer, my belly gets bigger. My due date is still only a couple of months away. The pain of losing Cohen is still as fresh as it was three weeks ago, and it doesn’t get any better. Time doesn’t heal all wounds. At least not this one. And to make everything worse, today I’m angry. I’m fuming. Everything is agitating me. Everyone is annoying me. I’m just mad.
Grams hasn’t said a word to me, and Haley won’t even attempt it. I fought with the blow dryer this morning when I got out of the shower, maybe that’s my problem. Or maybe it’s the fact that I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Bean must have too, because she hasn’t stopped kicking all day. The only good thing is the fact that it’s almost over. If I weren’t pregnant I have no doubt I’d be drowning in a bottle of whiskey or smoking bowl, after packed bowl. But I’m not, and I don’t think I’ll be able to have those days for another eighteen years. I pull my phone out and text Cohen. Even though I know he wont respond I still talk to him as if he knows everything I am saying.
Tatum: I hate you.
I press send before I get a chance to take my words back.
Tatum: I hate you for leaving me. I hate you for leaving Bean.
I press send once again. I know it wasn’t his choice to leave, but It was his choice to get into a car with someone who had been drinking. Even after everything we had been through with my parents, he still made the decision to get into that car. The repercussions of that choice will be something I will have to live with forever. I never thought I’d see the day where I had to live without him. Just that thought alone sends another bolt of anger through my veins. It’s at this moment I decide to do something dumb. I throw on a pair of old chucks, grab my jacket, and head for the front door. I’m in such a haste that I almost miss the lone carnation sitting on the front step. Drenched in the night time cold, it lies almost frozen to the front step with a small note attached. Looking closer at the note I realize it only has one word written down on it.
Tatum.
I bring the long stemmed flower to my nose and inhale. The scent is almost masked by the cold, but it’s still there. For a second I forget the anger and take in its simple beauty. I set it back down on the front step and get half way down the driveway until I turn around. Picking the carnation back up I bring it inside and stick in a glass full of water. I don’t want it to die from my neglect. It’s too pretty to have to throw away or forget. Once I finish up with the pink flower I head back out to do what I know I shouldn’t.
∞∞∞
I’m frozen to the core, but as I take in the vast white house in front of me a smile breaks out on my lips. I haven’t been here in months. Since Christmas to be exact. I didn’t think I’d ever be back, but here I am. The lights are off and the house is dark inside for either one of two reasons. Either Killian is asleep or he’s not home. And judging by what I’m about to do, I really hope it’s the latter.
“Do it.”
It’s as if I can hear Cohen’s voice whispering into my ear.
“Come on, Tate. You walked all this way, you know you want to.”
Once again he encourages me.
“What if he’s home?” I ask him, knowing for a fact I’ve finally lost my mind. I turn my head to the side and I can see him standing beside me like all those times before.
“Really, Tate?” He chuckles. “You’re gonna sit there and worry about the what ifs?”
“Fine!” I say determined. My eyes scan around the gravel at my feet. Right where the smooth gravel meets the flower bed I find a decent sized rock. I pick it up, feeling the jagged edges push into the soft skin on my palm. It’s dark in color, probably more so because of the blackened sky around me.
“Come on, baby girl. Get that anger out.”
I raise my arm with the rock gripped tightly in my hand. I catapult my arm forward and let go at just the right time. Adrenaline flows through my veins as I watch it fly through the air and collide with the perfect siding of the house. The thud resonates through the night air and a smile breaks out on my lips.
“Did you see that?” I say excitedly.
“Keep going!” He jumps up and down beside me. “Do it again!”
I find another stone, this one a few centimeters larger than the last and throw it as hard as I can. A loud crack fills the quiet night air as it slams into a second story window.
“Damn, girl you got some good aim.” Cohen laughs beside me.
“Shut up, Co.” I smile at him.
“So what, you walk all this way and that’s all you got?” I watch as he looks around for a rock of his own and lets it rip. “Here,” He hands me the largest one yet.
“What if it breaks the window?” I hold it in my hand and take in the softball sized rock.
“He broke your heart, Tate. A broken window doesn’t even compare.”
“He did.” I agree. “But so did you.” I take a breath and this time when I throw it, I aim for the big picture window.
“Fuck you!” I yell as I watch it hit the glass and make a spider web stretching from side to side.
“Fuck him!” Cohen agrees. “Again, Tate!”
I let another one go and it hits the same spot.
“Fuck you, Killian!” I scream this time, hoping if he is home he can hear me.
“He deserves this, Tate. Don’t stop now.”
“I hate you!” I scream, as I continue throwing whatever I can find.
“He left you, he walked away.” Cohen continues, knowing the more he says the more I’ll get riled up.
“So did you!” I argue back, “You left me too!” This time as the words leave my mouth I can feel my eyes begin to burn.
“I know, Tate.” In this moment I can hear his voice so clearly. “I have to leave again.”
“But I need you to stay,” I plead with him.
“You know I can’t,”
I take a step towards him, but he jumps backward as if I might sting him.
“You know I love you, and Bean too.” He smiles. “Now, throw another one and make it hurt this time.” He nods toward the small rock in my hand. “Do it for me, Tatum.”
I lift my hand and look towards him for encouragement. A small nod is all I need. I watch it soar through the air and jump with excitement as it cuts straight through the glass window.
“Did you see that!” I turn around, but Cohen is nowhere in sight. “Cohen!” My voice grows louder as the panic begins to set in.
“Cohen!” I call again as my voice cracks, knowing he’s not going to turn up. “I need you.” My voice cracks once again as the tears begin to fall down my cheeks. My legs give out and my knees slam into the ground. I hold my head in the palms of my hands as a sob takes over my body. I can’t see. I can’t breathe. I cry so much I begin to cough.
Right here, in the middle of Killian’s driveway, I have a complete and utter breakdown. I don’t even have enough strength to walk away. Even after I just vandalized his house with the ghost of my dead best friend ri
ght beside me.
Chapter 36
Killian
“You want me to call the police?” Liam steps up beside me as I stand behind the picture window in my living room.
“No.” I say, my voice thick with an emotion I can’t quite figure out.
“She’s got good aim.” He tries to make light of the situation.
When I heard the first rock hit the house I’m not going to lie, I thought someone was trying to break in. It wasn’t until I heard a voice outside in the driveway did I finally understand what was going on.
“Is she?” He asks slowly but trails off. We watch as Tatum turns to her side and begins to talk. It’s hard to see her like this. “Talking to herself?” Liam finishes.
“Yes.” I tell him plainly. I don’t want him watching this, but I know there’s nothing I can say to make him walk away. He was just as concerned as I was when it first started.
“Fuck you!” Tatum yells. For a brief moment I’m thankful I don’t have any close neighbors. Knowing that if this were to happen in a close knit neighborhood she wouldn’t even have the chance to keep going.
“Should you go out there?” Liam asks me next with a slight hint of worry in his words.
“She’s fine, Liam.” I try my best to convince him.
“She doesn’t look fine, she looks… crazy.” He says off put.
Another rock crashes against the house and I cringe at what the damage will look like in the morning.
“She’s not crazy,” I let out a strangled breath. “She’s broken.” I keep watching the train wreck unfold in front of me. Every time she turns to her side she’s completely enraptured in the conversation she seems to be having. At some points she lights up with excitement, and others she looks taken back.
“Shes gonna ruin your house.” He chimes in next.
“Are you going to go out there and stop her?” I question him as I look over my shoulder and take him in. Just like me he can’t take his eyes off the scene out side.