No Regrets (No Regrets #1)

by Aimee Noalane

  “Mom?” I questioned.

  She looked up. It took a while before she realized that I was the one she was looking at, but as soon as the realization hit her, she let out a loud sob and threw herself into my arms. Part of me understood what was going on, but the other part wanted to remain in denial.

  “Mom, where’s Dad?”

  Hearing nothing but her muffled cries, tears began to pour out of my eyes. She held onto me even tighter, but she was shaking so much it felt like I was holding onto her rather than the other way around

  I pushed her away slightly, needing to see her face. All she had done since I opened the door was avoid my gaze.

  “Mom, where is he?” I asked angrily. She refused to answer, or maybe it was because she was unable to. I had no idea.

  “Mom.” I yelled louder. She looked up and backed away from me. “You can’t keep him away from me. I want to see him.”

  She shook her head as she cried. Her inability to explain what was going on enraged me, so I shook her shoulders frantically. Finally getting her attention, she looked up at me. She seemed frightened, but I didn’t care.

  “I want to see him. WHERE IS HE?”

  “I’m so sorry Ol–Oliver.”

  She was barely able to articulate her thoughts. I frowned. She was sobbing so much I couldn’t understand what she was saying. I heard something that sounded like he was running late…in a hurry…got ran into by a truck... She wiped her nose with her shirt and looked at what she was doing with so many questions.

  And then, as if the whole situation had just hit her, she looked up to me with her serious eyes, “He’s gone.”

  There are so many things in life a teen doesn’t want to live through. Losing a parent definitely made the top three of my list. Having to hear from my mother’s lips that I had the last conversation I would ever have with my dad that morning broke my heart in two.

  As the tears of pain and agony ripped through my broken soul, I held on to the only person I thought would prevent my life from shattering into a million pieces. She held me in her arms, mixing her tears with my own, and I begged her to tell me it was all just a dream. I needed her to wake me up. When she said she couldn’t to do it, I begged her to tell me it was all just a lie. I begged her to ignore everyone around us and to help me find my father. She hugged me even tighter, rocking our bodies, holding me, preventing me from crumbling to the floor as best she could. It wasn’t working. The pain and the tears… the ache was too much to handle.

  “Abby. It hurts. Please just make it stop.”

  She pulled her hands up to my cheeks and held my face, leaning her forehead on my own. Her breath was warm and shaky. Her eyes were so clear I couldn’t bear looking into them, so I closed mine. I wanted to drown in the darkness.

  “Abs. Please.”

  She leaned in and kissed my temple. “I–I can’t, Oliver.”

  “But it’s not true, Abs.” I reopened my eyes. “I’m telling you, they’re lying to us. He’s here somewhere. I know he is. I–come with me please,” I beseeched standing up and extending my hand. “I need to see him. I need to talk to him.”

  She looked so broken sitting on the floor. Staring at her crystal blue eyes, willing her to believe me, willing her to understand that I needed her to believe me, she finally took my hand. And for that fraction of a second, I felt hope.

  “Oliver.” She looked over at my mother who simply shook her head sadly. “I–”Her eyes ascended from our joined hands to my eyes, locking her throbbing heartache to mine. “Oliver, I can’t… he’s gone.”

  I felt like I was in a trance. If my own best friend wouldn’t believe me, then I had nothing.

  “Oliver?” she asked once I pulled my hand away from hers.

  I looked at her sitting on the ground and felt nothing. I felt empty. I turned and walked away.

  “Oliver,” she repeated.

  She must have gotten up pretty fast because she was standing in front of me even before I made it to the corner of the waiting room.

  “Look at me,” she implored.

  I ignored her.

  “Oliver,” she pleaded with a wavering voice. “Please…”

  “I’m done, Abby,” I replied without looking back.

  “You’re done? Done with what?” she cried.

  “Them, him, you, us…I’m done.” I turned and stared at her beautiful broken face. “I’m done with all of it.”

  Abbygail

  As I stood alone in the middle of the quiet hallway, I watched my fragmented best friend walk away from me.

  “Time. It’s what he needs, Abby,” my mother whispered. With everything that had just happened, I hadn’t even noticed she made it upstairs. “Just let him go. You’ll talk once we get home.”

  I turned to her, and she took me in for a much needed hug. From the corner of my eye, I saw Oliver walking away from us. I yearned for him to stay, but he never looked back.

  The difficult part of seeing my best friend in pain was to watch his heart break and not being able to do anything about it. But the hardest part was to realize just how much he hated me for it.

  Blurry Words

  Abbygail

  Henry was more of a dad to me than my own father ever was. He took care of my mother and me. He welcomed us into his life like we were his own family. He was the one who taught me how to ride a bike, showed me how to ice skate, took me camping and fishing… he was the one who listened to me when I needed to talk about anything. And now… he was gone.

  The devastation of his death felt ten times worse because I didn’t have my best friend to grieve with. From the moment Oliver turned that corner at the hospital, he made himself scarce. He didn’t call, he didn’t come over, and he never showed up to say goodnight. He did nothing but hide away from me, and every time I knocked on his door, Aunt Evelynn said that he didn’t want to see me. It stung. All I wanted was to sit and cry with him. I understood that the loss of his father was hard, but I didn’t understand why he was avoiding me, especially since he and I were suffering through the same loss.

  ***

  I could hear my mother and Evelynn’s quiet sobs as they sat side by side. I envied their closeness. My mother supported her best friend in her sorrows while my best friend had purposefully chosen the seat by the aisle. There were only two people between us, but the distance that separated us felt like he was all the way across the country.

  I attempted to listen to the pastor, but between dealing with my own grief and trying to look out for my best friend, I couldn’t focus. I was never a religious person. I believed in what I saw and how it made me feel. I believed in life. The closest I came to praying was when my mother made me do it on special occasions, and even then I sucked at it. So, as I sat there on the uncomfortable wooden pew, all I could really think about was how angry I was at life and how it was unfair that Oliver’s dad was taken away from us.

  I tried to understand the man and his words of wisdom, but to me, everything he said sounded like load of bullshit.

  When the ceremony drew to an end, I was asked to come forward and talk about the man we had all lost. The day before the funeral, Aunt Evelynn had asked me to speak about Uncle Henry in front of the church. She said she knew it would have made him happy to know how much he meant to me, but also to us as a family. In truth, it was an honor, but I didn’t know if I could truly do his life justice.

  Standing in front of the church, I noticed how much Oliver’s dad had been loved. Aside from my teary friends who sat together a few seats behind ours, the church held many family members, co-workers, people from our community, and many other people I didn’t recognize.

  I looked down at my sheet of paper. What I had written the previous night was everything I had ever wanted to tell the man I’d considered as my dad for years, but had never had the chance to. I wrote how fantastic I thought he was and how much he was going to be missed. Detailing the happy memories and how his being in my life was a gift. I wrote how anyone who ha
d ever been lucky enough to cross his path should feel blessed.

  At the last minute, I looked at my best friend and everything got blurry.

  “I don’t have a dad,” I started with a sad smile.

  “Everyone has a dad. That’s what you replied. It’s how we make babies.”

  The crowd chuckled. I was happy I could make them laugh at such a difficult time, but my attention was focused on Oliver. I didn’t care about the others. This was for him. His face remained fixated on the church floor. I couldn’t tell if he was paying attention to what I was saying or if he was just lost in his own thoughts.

  “That’s not what I meant.” I continued, recalling the conversation we had so many years ago. “I mean that my own father never comes to see me. It’s like he doesn’t want to be my dad anymore. And then you said: Well if you ask me, your dad’s a jerk. I’m going to ask my dad if he can be your dad too. So I have to ask. Did you?” I didn’t address him by name, but I knew he understood the moment he stood.

  “Because I think you did,” I rushed. “And I need to thank you.”

  I should have just stuck with what I wrote yesterday…

  I looked over at my mother and her friend, “I’m sorry…” I blubbered. “I–I don’t think I can do this.”

  Both looked at me with an understanding sad smile. I could see Oliver from the corner of my eye. He had made it all the way to the back of the church. Words got caught in my throat as I watched my best friend walk away from me. I wanted him to know what I had to say.

  “Uncle Henry–”

  I lifted my gaze to my best friend’s as he put his hand on the handle of the massive wooden doors. I saw his eyes for the first time in days. Excluding the redness, I saw no emotion. His jaw was set, his face expressionless.

  “Uncle Henry, I–” I didn’t even know what to say next. I stared at my shaking hands and ended up blurting out the first thing that came to mind. “I need my best friend.”

  The church doors closed behind him and uncontrollable tears pooled out of my eyes.

  He left…

  I might have been devastated by the loss of the only dad I ever knew, but somewhere deep down, I also had the horrible feeling that I was grieving the loss of my best friend.

  ***

  After the service was over, the pastor invited anyone who wanted to say their last goodbyes to join him in the cemetery behind the church. Since Oliver had left before the ending of the ceremony, I took on the responsibility of looking after our mothers.

  I spotted Oliver at least fifty feet away from his father’s grave, standing with his back to the church. His head faced the drizzling sky as if he was trying to rid himself of the pain. I let go of our mothers’ arms and walked over to him.

  He didn’t look at me, but for the first time in days, he didn’t shy away from my presence. “You’re going to get wet, Abby.”

  “How do you know I don’t have an umbrella?”

  “You never carry an umbrella.”

  “If you know I never carry an umbrella, then you should also know I like the rain.”

  “You hate rain,” he stated.

  True… But I’ll take standing in the rain with you over being dry without you anytime.

  I sighed. “How did you know it was me?”

  “Because I felt you. I can always feel you,” he replied as if the answer was the most obvious thing on the planet.

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  Something in the way he stood away from me made me nervous. I felt the tears welling up in my eyes.

  “Oliver, could you–could you look at me?” I needed to see his eyes. I needed to see that we were okay.

  He turned his gaze to mine. His eyes were blotchy and his face was wet. I stretched out my fingers itching to touch him, and I shakily pushed away a strand of hair away from his eyes. As he leaned into my touch, he pulled his hands out of his pocket and wiped away the overflowing tears from my cheeks.

  “I need to feel you, Abby,” he finally replied.

  I exhaled, relieved.

  “Here,” I said extending the orchid I was holding in my other hand.

  He took the flower and rolled the stem between his index and his thumb.

  “Beautiful,” he said as he examined it closely. “Just like you.”

  My next breath caught in my throat. Trust Oliver to find a way to make me feel better on the day I was supposed to be supporting him.

  “It’s for your dad,” I replied confused. “Will you come with me?”

  “I can’t…”

  “Of course you can. We’ll do it together. I’ll hold your hand while we say our goodbyes.”

  I sensed his hesitation. Saying goodbye to his dad was also the last thing I wanted to do.

  But we needed to.

  It’s what people do when loved ones die.

  “I miss him,” he said with huge tears spilling over his sunken cheekbones.

  “I know. I do, too.”

  “Promise you won’t let go?”

  I extended my hand, and he took it. “I promise I will never let go.”

  Oliver held my hand tightly as we made our way back to our family and friends, but I didn’t mind. The fact that he was letting me be there for him was more than enough. We walked up to his father’s grave, and Stephan, Tyler, Kylie, Ava and Zoey joined us. As he and I knelt down, our friends stood closely behind us. Together, we watched as Oliver laid the orchid on his father’s urn and said his silent farewells. My heart broke as my best friend’s body shook. If I had been able to, I would have taken away his pain and carried it with me forever.

  ***

  “You gave a hell of a nice speech,” Oliver mocked as we walked away from the crowd.

  “You should have stayed until it was over,” I replied. “The end was epic.”

  “I did.”

  Oliver and I had made it far enough from everyone to be out of ear shot. I observed him as we stopped walking, and I wondered if he had actually heard my whispering pleads.

  “The one on the paper was better,” I admitted.

  “I doubt it.” He pulled his arms around my small body and hugged me. “Thank you for doing this with me.”

  “You’re my best friend, Oliver. I’d do anything for you.”

  “I know,” he said as he turned towards the burial site.

  Our friends had left. Only close family members stood by the graveside.

  “I’m going to head home.”

  “Can I walk with you?” It was more of a request than a question, but he shook his head and let go of my hand.

  “I hope you know how much I love you, Abby,” he whispered, leaving a soft kiss on my temple. “I’ll see you at the house.”

  After he crossed the street, I looked up to the dark, gray sky and let the heavy rain fall over me. Alone, I cried and prayed for the aching pain to be washed away with the stream, but it didn’t help. I don’t know how long I stood there, but it was long enough for the wind to pick up and for my mother to call me to get inside. I could feel the storm coming as I walked back to my mother’s car. The rumbling thunder stopped me and I looked up again at the clouded sky.

  “Uncle Henry, please don’t stop watching over us.”

  Some Kind of Normal

  Abbygail

  We had all been invited to Zoey’s house since her parents were gone for the weekend. I was pretty sure Oliver didn’t want to come, but I texted him anyway in the hope of convincing him otherwise. Sure enough, he refused to join us, but about an hour into the party I saw him sitting on a bar stool in the kitchen with a Corona in his hand and Adalynn rubbing up against him.

  He seemed happy, fitting perfectly with his football teammates.

  Jealousy bubbled inside of me. I didn’t get it. I didn’t get him. As much as I tried to want to understand, it was no use. We were his friends. Why he chose to surround himself with other people that weren’t us, I couldn’t comprehend.

  I’m his best friend…

  H
e let her rub the back of his hair with her fake nails, and her proud smile spoke a thousand words. My heart snapped.

  When I made my way to the kitchen, Adalynn was the first one to see me. As soon as she saw my face, she smiled evilly and leaned over to whisper in Oliver’s ear. He shook his head and smiled at her. It took a lot of self-control to ignore what was going on inside of me, but somehow I managed to bury it down low enough, and pretend that everything was okay.

  “Hello there Abbygail,” Adalynn said as soon as I opened the door to the fridge.

  Oliver’s head shot up from the bottom of his beer bottle as soon as he heard my name leave her lips, and he shrugged Adalynn’s hand off his shoulder. Although his reaction made me smile a little, I never replied to her questionable greeting. Instead, my eyes were glued onto my best friend’s dark stare.

  “I thought you didn’t want to come,” I said to him, reaching inside the fridge for anything to drink. I wasn’t even thirsty. It was just better for me to have something in my hands, rather than regret doing something with my fists.

  “Oh we weren’t going to.” Adalynn interrupted Oliver before he could even respond to me. “But I managed to convince him after we went for dinner at the Diner.”

  I frowned, which was exactly the reaction she was looking for. She was just waiting for my response, but I once again swallowed my words–and the pain my best friend was inflicting to my heart–with the fruity drink I had in my hand.

  “A couple of the guys from the team thought it would be cool if I joined them and the cheerleaders for dinner after their practice,” Oliver offered as an explanation.

  I absorbed the information and nodded silently, but I knew he noticed the hurt on my face because for a fraction of a second I saw the regret on his. I responded with a tight smile and left the kitchen without saying a word.