Page 131 of Finding Fate

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A Father’s Gift

There was movement downstairs. Apparently, her family hadn’t left for the Thanos’ yet. They really should give up hope on her going. She had absolutely zero desire to celebrate the New Year or her birthday for that matter. It wouldn’t change anything. That piece of her heart would still be gone. Well, not gone, but lifeless. She wasn’t sure if it still even beat anymore. It felt more like dead weight just lying there in her chest.

She wouldn’t hold it against anyone else who wanted to celebrate the New Year, though. They hadn’t suffered her loss. They shouldn’t stop living just because her world had come to a crude, unexpected standstill.

All she wanted to do was lay here in her bed and stare at the wall. The bare monotony of it suited her just fine. It matched the numb feeling that stemmed from the dead weight in her chest, a numbness that consumed her almost completely.

Every now and then, often when she least expected it, the living fraction of her heart would send sharp, momentary stabs of grief through her chest so strong that she sometimes wondered how they didn’t tear the only beating part of the necessary organ into shreds.

She wished it would. The numbness was bearable. The pain wasn’t.

There were footsteps on the stairs now. She wondered who it would be this time. Her mother, Annie, and Tyler had all tried to talk her out of bed several times since she’d come home from the hospital a few days ago. Jet and Emma also made attempts when they would come over. Even Leo stopped by once to give it a try.

The only person who hadn’t made the effort was Tucker. The last time she had seen or heard from him was when he helped her up to her bedroom. She’d lain down. He’d kissed her head, said “I love you,” and left.

His absence didn’t surprise her really. She had been anticipating it. He had come to see her every day she was in the hospital, but he was distant, never able to look into her eyes anymore, as though he were there in body, not in spirit.

She didn’t blame him. She understood why. She’d want to get away from herself too if she could, anything to get away from the torturous guilt that constantly lingered on the outskirts of her mind, threatening to break through into her every thought.

It still hurt, though. Tucker’s detachment seemed to be the one thing that could penetrate the numbness, making it more of a hollow ache when she allowed herself to think about him.

She quickly shoved those memories aside when she felt the ache draw near. She really couldn’t handle it right now. She just wanted the numbness. That was safe to feel. Or not feel, depending on how you looked at it.

She focused on the dull, yellow wall in front of her. Funny, the color had seemed so much warmer when she and Annie had picked it out.

A light tap sounded on her cracked bedroom door.

“Isabel?”

Her mother. She didn’t answer. She never really talked anymore. Maybe her mom would think she was asleep and leave without the wasted effort.

Nope.

Her mother’s footsteps were now crossing the room.

Bridgette sat on the edge of her daughter’s bed and ran her fingers through her hair. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? Everybody would be so excited to see you.”

“Except Tucker,”Isabel responded in her head. She then began to wonder if he was even going tonight. She doubted he would feel up for the party, but would he go for appearance's sake like her mother wanted her to do? Was he even able to do that?

It hit her then that she didn’t have a clue as to how Tucker was doing. If he was feeling any better than she was. She hoped so. He didn’t deserve the pain her mistake was putting them through.

The ache thudded in her chest, and she flinched. Bridgette sighed.

“I know it hurts, baby, but it’s not going to get any better by just lying here all alone.”

Isabel didn’t respond. Bridgette made one more attempt.

“You might feel better. You never know unless you try. You could always come back home if you need to.”

She did too know. The numbness was too great for any amount of social interaction to help. Besides, she wouldn’t subject her family and friends to her depression during their celebration.

Her mother was still waiting. Isabel closed her eyes, signaling the end of her listening. She thought her mother would leave, but instead, she ran her fingers through her hair again and said something her daughter didn’t expect.

“Do you remember how bad it hurt when your daddy passed?”

Isabel winced as one of those unexpected stabs tore at her chest.

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