A gust of wind suddenly blew across my skin.
And somehow, standing there, I felt that Ben understood.
The drive to my mom’s house felt as heavy as what I’d just left in the cemetery. Every mile stretching with the enormity of what I was going there to say. And when I walked in, it was obvious that nothing had improved since her stint in the hospital.
I made my way to her room, finding her curled up in bed, covers pulled to her chin, her face pale against the pillow. She was still eating nothing, and now she didn’t even have the energy to get out of bed.
She barely stirred when I came in, and a burst of anger flooded through me. Taking a deep breath, I tried to remind myself that I didn’t know what it was like, to lose my soulmate.
I tried to remind myself that I’d probably be worse than my mom. I’d probably be trying to follow Casey as soon as I could.
I tried to remind myself of all that as I sat on the edge of the bed. The springs creaked beneath me, and I reached for her hand, covering it with mine. Her skin was cool, fragile, like she was slipping away even as I held on.
I knew what I needed to do.
“Mom,” I started, my voice low as I tried to steady myself. “I know you’re tired. And as much as we want you to fight…we can’t do that for you anymore. Not if you don’t want to.”
She didn’t move, but her fingers twitched just slightly, like she could hear me.
“I brought Casey to meet you at the hospital,” I continued, my voice softening. “This girl, Mom, she’s everything. And I’m gonna marry her. Soon. We’re going to have kids, the whole thing. I’d love for you to be there for that. I’d love for you to see me play in the NFL, to watch me build a family, to be a part ofit.” I stopped, feeling the words catch in my throat, the honesty feeling like heartbreak.
“But I get it, if you’re done. If it’s too much. You’ve been gone for so long, and I don’t know how to reach you anymore. If you really don’t want to be here…if you’re ready to go…I just…I just need you to know I’m letting go if that’s what you want.”
I waited, searching her face for any sign that she was still there, that the mom I used to know was somewhere under the surface. But she stayed silent, unmoving, and that heavy ache in my chest grew. I squeezed her hand gently, trying to make my peace with it, and stood up.
“Take care, Mom. I love you,” I whispered, patting her hand one last time before I turned and walked out, leaving the house that had long ago stopped feeling like home behind me.
On the drive back to school, my mind was a mess of memories and hope tangled up with grief. And then my phone chimed, breaking through my thoughts. I glanced at the screen, and the words hit me like a punch:
Mom: I’m ready to get help.
I pulled over to the side of the road, the message blurring as the tears came, hot and unrelenting. The burden I’d been carrying for so long finally cracked open, and for the first time in years, I truly let myself cry.
CHAPTER 35
PARKER
MONTHS LATER…
“I’m going to be sick,” Griffin muttered, hunching over the bench with a green tint to his face.
“Come on, Griffy. Get your shit together. This is what we live for,” said Jace, spreading eye black under his eyes, even though it was dark outside. He claimed that it helped with the glare of the lights.
Whatever worked.
The NCAA Championship. This is why I played. This is why I dripped sweat and blood all over the field all season long.
For games like this.
I was never going to admit it…but I also felt a little sick.
My phone buzzed on the bench next to me, and I grabbed it, hoping for a distraction.
Walker: Good luck out there, little brother.
I frowned.
This was bad luck. I couldn’t go out there with them sending me a…nice text.