Page 42 of I Am Lioness

For the most part, I was doing well… until it was my turn to stand behind the podium and deliver my parting words. I can’t explain it, but it was almost an outer-body happening of sorts, as though I were seeing it through my own eyes yet somehow I could also see it from my seat behind Knox.

With a shake of my head, I unfolded the paper that contained everything I wanted to say to my old man and took a deep breath. What I did next though was without a doubt the biggest mistake I could possibly make.

I peered over my shoulder and the sight of Bernie’s prone body instantly left me in shambles. I crumbled into millions of tiny pieces, unable to form the words I so desperately wanted to say. I was painfully breathless and I cried—hard, loud, and shamelessly before the congregation, gripping the podium with every bit of strength I could muster to reign myself in.

It took several minutes and many cleansing breaths to gather control. The wrinkled paper held hostage in my shaky hand was wet with my grief, some of the words now smudged into illegible territory. I straightened my spine and let my gaze drift across the distressed faces seated before me, clearing my throat to begin my speech.

“Pops… Shocked does not begin to cover what I feel as I sit here trying to write this letter to you. A letter of goodbye”—my lip quivered—“There aren’t enough words to thank you for everything you brought into my life the day you saved me. You brought me light, hope, a second chance to live. If it weren’t for you, there’s a great possibility I wouldn’t be here today. Whether it was the fatherly instinct within you or simply the desire to help a stranger from the kindness of your heart, thank you,” I brittled out, wiping the tears that rolled down my cheeks. “Thank you for seeing something worthy in me. Thank you for watching over me all those nights in the gym. Thank you for teaching me how to channel my anger, my pain in a constructive manner. Thank you for taking me under your wing, for treating me as your daughter, and for loving me even when I was most difficult. And most of all,” I paused, swallowing down the clog in my throat. “Thank you for being you. My life will forever be changed because of all that you were and I promise with every fiber of my being that I will never forget you. You may no longer be here with me walking the planes of this earth, but your memory with always live in my heart. I love you, old man. Always and forever, with everything I am and all that I’ll ever be.”

By the time we arrived at the cemetery, it was pouring heavily. The minister kept his closing speech short and those who followed us from the chapel took turns placing a white rose on top the casket.

Standing under that green tent, mere feet away from where Bernie’s body would rest for eternity may have been worse than the service itself, especially as I watched them lower the casket into the ground where soon it would no longer be visible.

Soon after the burial was over and we’d said our goodbyes, Knox and I headed back to his condo. He’d barely reversed from the parking spot and pulled out onto the main road when he reached over the center console and took my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. Even with his comforting embrace keeping me grounded, the car ride was once again made in silence save for the rain pelting against the windshield and the sound of the wipers swishing every few seconds.

The entire trip was one big blur of gray clouds, sad skies, street lights, and passing cars, and when we pulled up in front of his building, I was slightly confused.

He leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to my wet cheek before stepping out into the rain to come around and help me out of the car with umbrella in hand. Ushering me upstairs without a word, he left me only to shower and take a nap, but once I slid into his bed,alone, I couldn't close my eyes.

Images of Bernie laying in that casket kept flashing through my mind, his face and hands swollen from all the embalming fluid used to preserve his body. It hadn't looked anything like him and I'd instantly regretted even approaching the casket when I realized that would be the last and final image I’d have of the man who was like my father.

The sound of my cries must have carried through the rooms because at one point, I felt the mattress dip and then Knox was pulling me into his chest, which in turn made me cry harder. And he let me. He let me cry,let me grieve. Through every shudder, every new wave of sobs, he was calm, gentle, and affectionate, yet still the strong fixture I needed to push past the tears.

He’d run his fingers through my hair or place a tender kiss anywhere within reach. I don't remember when exactly he turned me around and swallowed me in his arms, but the second I buried my face in the crook of his neck and inhaled his comforting scent, I began to settle. The tears dried and all that was left were hiccups that wracked my entire body until everything faded into darkness.

Sometime during the night I'd been awoken by a nightmare, a new and very vivid nightmare about Knox that shook me to my core and made me want to scream in agony.

My heart was ready to burst from chest as I shot up with a gasp, a heavy sheen of sweat clinging to every inch of my skin. I remember glancing over at his unmoving form and panicking until I sidled close and placed a hand on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall beneath my palm. I laid myself beside him but couldn’t sleep nor did I dare to try in fear the nightmare would strike again.

After hours of tossing and turning though, I ended up drifting off with Knox’s arm draped over me and morbid images flashing through my mind.

The following morning I woke with a renewed sense of dread. My paranoia was at an all-time time high and my heart was heavy knowing what I was undoubtedly going to have to do sometime before I left for the airport that evening. It wasn't going to be easy by any means and it was definitely going to cause us both a great deal of pain, but it had to done.

We spent the day within the walls of his condo, lounging around on the couch and watching Netflix. Whenever he got too close, I shivered with fear, and I knew he could sense the sudden shift in my demeanor. It was written all over his face yet he chose not to question me for which I was grateful because I was not ready to open that can of worms just yet.

When 7pm rolled around, I excused myself to go shower and pack up my belongings. Knox yanked my arm as I made my way past him and pulled me in for a kiss, cupping my face and pouring everything he had into it. The tension was there though, utterly palpable in the way his lips grazed over mine.

He was as fearful as I was, obviously for different reasons, and what hurt me most was that he had no idea how much worse this would be by the time I left.

As I was folding my clothes and setting them into the duffle bag, Knox cracked open the door and then his voice resounded through the room.

“Can I come in?” He asked quietly.

I sucked in a deep breath and prayed to the Heaven’s above to provide me with strength.

“Yeah, I’m just packing the last of my stuff.”

The door swung open and he sauntered in, looking wary and confused.

I zipped up the bag and dropped it beside my large rolling suitcase. When I spun around Knox was behind me.

Here we go.

“Thank you”—I wrapped myself around him—“for everything. I'm not sure how I would've gotten through these last few days without you.”

His arms engulfed me and he buried his face in the crook of my neck. “Why do I get the feeling you're telling me goodbye?”

I fell silent, unsure of how to say what needed to be said and what so desperately needed to be done, before it was too late.

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