Marked

by Drew Elyse

  You couldn’t wake up this many times in a nightmare. I’d spent weeks in the aftermath praying I would wake up in Joel’s arms, and it was just more of this. No, the real nightmares came at me every night when I would be back in that car. Then, I’d wake up to something that was barely better.

  Daz, though, he was moving on. It didn’t mean he didn’t miss his brother, but he had so much in his life he didn’t have three years ago. He’d fallen in love, they were expecting a baby. He was happy. Meanwhile, I was still stuck.

  I hadn’t talked to Liam since I left. I’d thought about texting him the night before while I’d laid awake freaking out about today and what it meant, but that felt wrong, like it wasn’t fair to either of them. I knew Liam wouldn’t see it that way. He’d been there for me to talk to about Joel. I just needed some mental space from that. I was afraid that if I tried to confront whatever Liam and I were building between us while I was here, I’d freak out on him. Whatever came next for us, he deserved better than that after all he’d done for me.

  Still, I couldn’t shake the desire to seek comfort from him. Maybe I was getting into a habit of using him as a crutch.

  Or maybe you’re just opening up to someone.

  I choked back a sob. I couldn’t do it, not today. I couldn’t have that fucking voice in my head.

  Daz put a hand on my back, rubbing and attempting to soothe me. All it did was push me closer to breaking.

  “Will you go first?” I choked out.

  It wasn’t fair to put him on the spot. He might not be ready to go out there and say what he needed to. I just needed to be alone before I could.

  “Yeah, sis. I can go first.”

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  I was going to lose it.

  How I held it together for the next couple minutes until he got out, I had no clue. My palms were throbbing from how hard I dug my nails into them. My jaw had long since cramped up from me clenching it. I was barely even breathing. When he got out, I counted each step like I knew how many it would take to get him out of earshot, like there was a magic number where I could release this maelstrom inside of me.

  The moment he was out of view, I broke.

  I screamed into my hands until my voice went hoarse and broke. It hurt, but that pain couldn’t touch what was eating me up inside.

  This was supposed to get easier. That’s what they said. That’s what the fucking therapist had said. Each year, it would tear me apart a little less.

  Really? Well, I wasn’t feeling that. This hurt just as much as it had last year, just as much as the year before, just as much as the first horrific day we came to this fucking place.

  I could still remember.

  It was so quiet. I’d gotten used to the sound of all the motorcycles on the way over. Daz’s whole club had ridden with us. Owen had been fascinated, but he didn’t understand what was happening today. He’d cried a few times because he was sensitive to the feeling around him, but he had no idea why we were upset.

  I did.

  It was why I couldn’t look up. My eyes were fixated on the grass as I walked with my arm in Daz’s. I think he was afraid I might just collapse. Really, I was more likely to bolt.

  If it weren’t for my son, I might have already.

  Not that there was anywhere on Earth that I could escape this. No matter where I went, he still wouldn’t be there.

  I’d be lying if I said the other way to escape hadn’t crossed my mind. Maybe the inclination toward that sort of thing was genetic. But I knew what it was like to be left behind. Owen would have been far better off than I had been, but I wouldn’t choose to miss a moment of my son’s life.

  Even if it meant enduring this pain for the rest of mine.

  I felt like I was going to be sick. Each step made that tightness in my gut increase. Not that I’d eaten. Maybe not in days. I wasn’t sure anymore.

  Everything since the accident felt like this endless blur. Days without him had no substance, and yet they stretch on so long. Was that what it would always be like now?

  I chanced looking up despite myself, and I caught the briefest glimpse of the site ahead.

  My steps stuttered.

  No. No. No.

  “No.”

  Daz drew to a stop. “I’m right here, Katie.”

  I should appreciate that, but it didn’t mean a fucking thing. Joel was supposed to be at my side. That’s what we’d promised when we were nothing more than kids. That’s what we’d vowed at the courthouse when we’d gotten married.

  Until death do us part.

  I wasn’t married anymore.

  “Oh, God.”

  “Breathe,” Daz tried to coach.

  “I can’t,” I gasped.

  My lungs were too tight. They wouldn’t move. I couldn’t…I couldn’t.

  There was a warmth and pressure against my chest, with a command, “Out.” The pressure persisted until I choked out the air in my lungs, then lifted. “In.”

  The shudders rocked me as I got air in bit by bit.

  Again, the pressure started with the repeated command, “Out.”

  I followed the instruction, managing to breathe with the help. When the blackness receded from the edges of my vision, I found Doc right in front of me.

  “That’s good, sweetheart. Stick with me.”

  Right. In and out. After a few more, he removed his hand, but he stayed right there making exaggerated breaths for me to mimic. Once I had the pattern, he spoke again.

  “In, 1, 2, 3. Out, 1, 2, 3. Remember that. When it starts to get hard, you count it. Focus on the numbers, the pattern. In, 1, 2, 3. Out, 1, 2, 3.”

  In, 1, 2, 3.

  Out, 1, 2, 3.

  I could do that. I nodded.

  “We’re right beside you. Not going any-fucking-where. We can’t make this go away, but you aren’t facing it alone.”

  In, 1, 2, 3.

  Out, 1, 2, 3.

  I wasn’t alone.

  I felt it, but I wasn’t. Doc and Daz were right there. There were good people I could trust taking care of my baby boy.

  I wasn’t alone.

  “You need to lean on us, you do it. Not an ounce of shame in that. One step at a time.”

  “Okay,” I choked out. “Okay.”

  Then, clutching onto them both, leaning on them when I could barely stand, I walked to the place we’d lay my husband to rest.

  In, 1, 2, 3.

  Out, 1, 2, 3.

  In the last three years, I’d followed that advice more times than I could count. I’d repeated that count in my head again and again until it was second nature, and then I kept repeating it all the same.

  I’d done this before. Three times I’d made this walk, and I’d survived it each time. This one wouldn’t be any different.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Kate

  “Hi.”

  It’d taken me fifteen minutes to speak, and that was what I said.

  I wasn’t sure it even mattered what I said, but surely that wasn’t what it should be.

  When we’d come back before, I’d planned out what I wanted to say. The therapist had suggested it before the first trip, saying it might make the experience less daunting.

  This year, I didn’t want to. I didn’t want the days and days of obsessing over it, making myself into a mess long before I got on the plane. This year, I just wanted to let it happen.

  I was wondering right then if it was the wrong thing to do.

  “I don’t know what to say. I feel like I talk to you in my own head all the time. And there are the times that you talk to me. I don’t know, maybe that’s not you. It’s probably not you. But it sounds like you.

  “Actually, if that is you, it’d be great if you stopped. It makes me feel like I’m crazy.”

  I dropped my head into my hands.

  “I’m a mess, none of this is even worth saying. What am I doing?”

  Breathe.

  “Stop it!” I snapped.

  But he w
asn’t there, so who was I yelling at?

  A piece of stone?

  I focused on that bit of stone, on his name etched into the surface, the dates that were nowhere near as long as they should have been, the words Daz had chosen to engrave beneath it all: “Brother. Husband. Father. The best of them all.”

  “I have to register Owen for first grade next month,” I blurted. “He’s going to be in school full-time. I don’t know what I’ll do. Maybe take on more at the bakery to stay busy. He’s excited about it, but I don’t think he really understands what it even means. He just knows there were friends at kindergarten, and there will be more in first grade. I guess that’s all he really needs to know to be excited. He’s so like you in that.

  “He’s so like you in every way. It’s that light, that charisma. He’s still so young, but it’s already there in him. That’s all you. It always was. And he looks just like you. I think when people see him with Daz, they think he’s his. You Larson boys are just like clones.”

  I puffed out a laugh to keep it from turning into a sob.

  “He’s old enough now to understand. He knows his daddy isn’t around when other kids’ are. He sees the brothers with their kids and gets that he doesn’t have that. But he can’t begin to understand just what he’s missing out on. They’re all great dads, but you would have been the best. You were the best, even though you didn’t get to do it long.

  “Remember how scared we were? We had no idea what good parents did. Well, you did, even if you didn’t think so. You raised Daz. He turned out…” An ex-con biker. “Okay, maybe not the best example, but he’s a good person.

  “Can I confess something? I’m still scared. I’m scared all the time that I don’t know how to do this. Every new thing that comes along as he grows, I wonder if this is where I screw up, if this is where I fail him. Then I wonder if you would have done better. If you’d know what to do every time I feel lost.”

  My breaths were too fast, and I needed to slow them down. In, 1, 2, 3. Out, 1, 2, 3. I wiped the tears that had been steadily falling from my cheeks. It didn’t matter, they kept coming. They mixed with the drizzle that was soaking me drop by drop.

  I stared at the grass that had grown over the place he was buried, and I gave up.

  I sat down where I was, not giving a damn that the wet grass was seeping into my jeans. What did it matter?

  “I’m sure Daz told you about the baby. Avery’s kind of a mess, but I know they’re both excited. We’re all excited for them. Or I try to be. It’s hard to ignore the fact that their baby will never know his or her uncle. You’ll just be a story we tell them. And I’m terrified that’s already what you are to Owen. He’ll mention you, but I think it’s just because Daz and I have talked about you. Doc, too. Not because he can remember back that far. How could he?

  “Liam says—”

  I froze.

  How could I say that?

  You can tell me anything, Katie.

  “Shut up! Shut up! Just stop!”

  The tears came harder.

  “I can’t tell you about that. How do I tell you about how he makes me feel more secure than anything has since you were taken from me? How do I tell you that it makes me feel sick inside, but I’m attracted to him? I don’t want to be. I want to be your wife. That’s it. The end. But you’re gone and I don’t know if I can live out the rest of my life being nothing more than the woman that used to be your wife.”

  It took a few minutes to get my breathing back to normal after that.

  The rain was cold, and my joints felt stiff, but I wasn’t ready to go yet.

  “Maybe everyone was right. Maybe moving on is important, but the thought of letting you go kills me. I don’t even know how.”

  “Moving on doesn’t mean you forget, or that you stop hurting. It doesn’t mean you stop missing him or erase him from your life. It means you find a balance. You build a life in the here and now that isn’t just on the foundation of what you’ve lost. You can remember, and grieve, and hurt, but you also live. You find joy in things again, even if they are different things than before. You experience all the ups and downs of life rather than just going through the motions. Exactly what all that looks like is up to you. You just have to start living bit by bit and see what you create.”

  That was what the therapist had told me. I’d told her I’d taken it to heart, even though I hadn’t felt like I had at the time. That I could still recall it now told me maybe it hadn’t been quite the lie I thought it was.

  “I keep wondering what you would even want if you could have had a say. If you’d known it was going to happen but couldn’t stop it, what would you have told me to do? But you can’t tell me, and any time I think I know, I question if it’s just me trying to justify my own actions.

  “I think that’s one of the worst things. I miss you in so many ways, but above all the rest, you were my best friend. You were the one I could go to with anything. You were the one that helped me sort through my messy thoughts, the one I could be completely honest with, the one who always knew what I truly needed even when I couldn’t see it. It’s like you were the only one in my life who could have helped me through the trauma of losing you. How fucked up is that?”

  I fiddled with the wedding ring I’d never taken off. I supposed there was some point in this process where I was meant to. I slid it off, just to see how it felt, but lowered it on again. Maybe I could try putting it on the other hand.

  “I love you,” I whispered. “I’ll always love you. I’m just starting to wonder if it’s time I stop letting that love consume me. If that’s even possible. I’m really not sure it is, but I think I might need to try.”

  Even as I said it, part of me wanted to take it back. I was imagining myself there in another year, just as much of a disaster with no sign of an end.

  Is that what I wanted?

  Is that what he would want?

  “Maybe next time I’ll bring Owen. I’ve been waiting because it’s hard for him to understand, but I think next time he might be ready. I brought a picture with me for now and a drawing he did of us a few weeks ago. I’ll leave them here for you.”

  It took a few tries to get my bag unzipped with the way my hands shook, even longer to retrieve the papers from inside. I was glad Avery had taken it upon herself to laminate them. I knew they’d be removed in time, but I didn’t like the thought of the rain destroying them so quickly.

  I watched the drops of water hit and run down their surfaces, making the images beneath harder and harder to see. Still, even long after my clothes were drenched, I sat in that same spot.

  I talked to Joel for hours, telling him everything I could think of from the last year he had missed. I told him story after story about Owen, about Daz, about the club, and the bakery. I told him about my tattoo, how I’d finally gotten it after all these years. I talked until my voice was hoarse and I’d long since run out of tears. When the sun started to set, I realized I had just been sitting there for a while, out of things to say.

  It was time to go.

  Even as my heart protested, I struggled to my feet and walked forward on shaky legs to touch the cold stone.

  “I miss you so much. Every single day, I miss you and I love you. If you know nothing else, I hope you know that, and know it will never change.”

  It took a while longer before I could make myself walk away. It was agony to leave, but it was time.

  Joel wasn’t here. This was just a place. Joel was in my memory and in my heart.

  And he always would be.

  Daz and I didn’t stay much longer. There was no point. We were there to visit Joel. With that done, we had Avery and Owen to get back to.

  We had the red-eye out that same night. When we boarded, I brought my phone out only to find it nearly dead. I hadn’t used it since we’d been gone, so it hadn’t occurred to me to charge it either. I’d talked to Owen several times, but it had been on Daz’s phone when he called Avery each time. There were a mess of
notifications. All well-wishes from the Disciples women. A few texts from Avery with pictures of Owen.

  Nothing from Liam, but I’d essentially told him not to, hadn’t I?

  With a sigh, I powered the thing down and threw it into my bag.

  We were on our way home, and I had no idea what to do now.

  I think part of me had hoped visiting Joel would make things clearer. Like somehow being there would make me understand what I should do now, or clear my head enough to figure out what I should do about Liam.

  “There’s no magic fix. You have to tackle each issue, each day, one at a time.”

  I dropped my head back against my seat. I’d gladly keep Joel’s voice if it meant I could stop dredging up all the advice from the therapist. My head was starting to feel like a self-help book.

  “Hanging in there?” Daz asked.

  “As much as I can be.”

  He nodded, sober as he always was when we had to confront our loss. There was nothing I could say now to shake him of that. When we were back home, he’d find his way back to himself again.

  Maybe it was about time I tried that, too.

  After we took off, once Daz fell asleep like he always seemed to on planes, I fished out a pair of headphones and plugged them into the armrest. Mindlessly, I flipped through the stations, waiting for something to give me cause to stop. Wherever I landed, it’d probably be my station for the whole flight. If I was lucky, I might even fall asleep, too. I hadn’t gotten much in days.

  When I heard “Zombie” by The Cranberries, I decided that would do. I closed my eyes and listened, hoping the music would chase my other thoughts away, if only for a little while.

  For the next hour or so, I was all right.

  I’d given up the ghost when it came to sleeping, but that was fine. At least I was calm. Calmer than I’d ever been on this trip.

  And then the song started.

  All it took was getting to the chorus once for me to dissolve into silent tears, even as I hated myself.

  There I was, in the middle of a reasonably full airplane, crying while listening to “Believe” by Cher.