Page 37 of Haunt Me

“What?”

She raises herself to her knees, eyes wide and full of tears in an instant.

“He…” I didn’t mean to tell her, it just slipped out.

She looks so scared.

I take her hand in mine—her skin is ice cold. Tears spill down her cheeks, and I am speechless in front of such naked, raw sorrow. For my sake.

“Don’t be sad, Eden, hey, are you crying?” She hides her face from me, and I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to get her to look at me. “We… lost him. Suddenly.”

“When?” she asks, still crying.

“It was… Actually it was a week before I met you, which is why… Hey hey…” She is crying so much that I get really scared. She is having difficulty breathing, as if there is something pressing down on her chest. “Eden, breathe, look at me.” I place my hand on her chest, fingers spread out.

Her heart is beating like a frantic bird’s and I press down as if I can stop it from flying away. I can feel the delicate outline of bones beneath my fingers.

“Breathe, Eden, it’s ok, it’s ok, just breathe with me. Can you do that?”

She nods.

“I’m here, you’re ok.” I hardly know what I’m saying.

I start talking about random things like how I remember my dad shoveling snow outside our front door, how we used to have several music rooms in the house, all of us playing a differentinstrument at the same time. I try to tell her all the weird things we did, just to get her to smile, but she doesn’t. I still say them.

I keep talking, and by the end, she is not crying any more.

I feel euphoric, almost happy. It happened again, just like before: talking about my dad brought him back to life. It was therapeutic, talking about him so much.

“Should I stop now?” I ask and Eden shakes her head.

“I love the look on your face when you talk about your dad,” she says, and I’m not sure she realizes she’s told me this before. When she didn’t know he was dead.

“I want to make him proud,” I reply.

“I bet he is.”

“Are you thinking of your dad right now?”

She looks away. “I wouldn’t say that he’s proud of me, exactly, but I want him to be proud of me one day. Hopefully.” She half-laughs.

I’m watching her. There is no real warmth behind her laughter, but her lips are trembling.

“You love him,” I say, my voice shaking strangely. I suddenly realize why she was crying so much. It wasn’t just for me, was it? It was for him as well. Is she scared she will lose him? Does she adore him so much?

“I love him,” she agrees. “He’s all I have.”

I nod. I get it. I love my dad too. I don’t know if I told him enough.One more time. I just want to be able to say it to him one more time.I just want to tell him that I miss him and that I—

I suddenly turn away to wipe the stupid moisture off my eyes.

“Look at me while you cry, Isaiah,” Eden says, her voice gentle but firm. “You held me while I fell apart, and now you turn around so that you’ll hurt alone? I want to be there for you like you were for me.”

“I don’t…”

“Let me,” she simply says.

And I simply do. She envelopes me in her arms and finally, after all this time, I bury my head in her shoulder and let go.

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