Page 88 of Bound By Valor

It had been three weeks since that incident and Zarek and I were in a robotic rhythm of working and mandatory therapy. Yesterday, however, was different.He asked if I wanted to fly to Toronto to visit my parents, and I said yes.

The moment I crossed the threshold I crumpled in my dad’s arms and cried for hours. My mom got help from Zarek in the kitchen and we all had a rather solemn dinner together.

I learnt that the visit did two things for me. One, it gave me a familiar safe space to fall apart. Two, it made me realize that no matter what, grief doesn’t end. It just metamorphoses into something more tolerable.

I once read that grief is like a ball in a box with a pain button on one side. Initially, the ball is large, constantly activating the button, but over time, it shrinks. The hits become less frequent, yet each impact is as sharp as ever.

“Are you planning to stay in New York, then?” my dad asked as we sat for breakfast the next morning.

I glanced at Zarek and he shrugged with one shoulder.

I swallowed my mouthful of eggs, “We’re not sure where we want to operate from just yet. It seems New York is the best option for now.”

My dad nodded, “Have you thought about a funeral? You said he didn’t have any family.”

Zarek jumped in, “We thought about it, Oliver. But we’re going to have a small wake instead of a funeral. It’ll be in New York. We’d love to have you if you can.”

“I’m so sorry again, honey. I know he was your close friend,” my mom gave Zarek a hesitant smile.

Zarek gave her a pained smile but kept his calm. I’d been observing him these past few weeks. He had been detached. He barely talked to Dylan in fears ofunearthing conversations about Logan. I knew Dylan was hurting too. Every now and then, I’d find Dylan pacing in front of Logan’s room in the Blackthorn building.

The squad had become uncharacteristically quiet.

???

After breakfast, we flew back to New York in the afternoon. Amelia and Dylan had also gone back to San Diego to visit their youngest sister Iris who was two years younger than Amelia. Kabir couldn’t fly back to India to visit his family since it was a long fifteen-hour flight and he feared he’d miss too much work.

So, when we arrived at the Blackthorn building, it was only Zarek, Kabir, Sebastian, Delara, Ronan, Zane, and I who gathered for an early dinner. Like the meals before, this one also hung heavy with an intolerable silence. Whenever the team would gather, Logan’s absence was felt starkly and pained beyond comprehension.

After dinner, Zarek shared a look with Sebastian, receiving a quiet thumbs up in response. Leaning close, his breath caressed my ear as he whispered, “Come with me,Mi Corazón?”

Intrigued, I followed him to the elevator, watching as he selected the top floor.

“Are we going shopping again?” I teased, earning a soft laugh.

“Sort of,” he replied, his voice hinting at a secret.

The elevator doors parted to reveal a glass covered bridge to the other Blackthorn building. We continued on to the path after entering the buildingand turned right, beyond which lay a rooftop garden, its fairy lights casting a soft glow. But Zarek led me first to one of two doors before the garden. With a key, he unlocked it, and I half expected an impersonal hotel space. My gaze swept over the matte gray kitchen, the cozy light gray couch facing a large TV, and a door that hinted at a bedroom beyond.

This is an apartment.

What truly caught my attention was the warmth of the place, the walls adorned with photos of our squad, my family, and Logan, each frame a snippet of our intertwined lives, making this new space feel unexpectedly like home.

I turned to Zarek, shock widening my eyes. In the dim light from the garden window, his eyes glistened.

“This is one of the four empty apartments in the building. I asked Sebastian for the best one. I don’t think the room downstairs would be enough for us,” Zarek gave me a smile, the one I hadn’t seen in about a month.

Extending his hand, I laced my fingers through his, following him to the expansive windows. Pausing at the sliding door, he flashed a nervous smile, then guided me into the crisp New York air of the secluded rooftop garden.

In the heart of the balcony, a quaint table with two chairs beckoned, serenaded by soft tunes from a Bluetooth speaker, accompanied by chilled champagne and flutes.

I quickly realized the song wasRosebyHonest Men.

Venturing deeper into the garden’s embrace, I admired the coral roses bordering our secluded nook. The stone beneath my feet tested my balance, but I didn’t know whether it was my three inch heels or myfluttering heart.

“Zarek, this is—” I spun around.

The sight made all the words clog in my throat. There Zarek was, kneeling, his hands holding a small blue velvet box.

---