Page 148 of Life of the Party

“Mackenzie? What are you doing?”

Alex’s sudden appearance made me jump. I held a hand to my chest and willed my heart to slow down.

“Oh, Alex. You scared me.” I laughed.

He cleared his throat, his light eyes wide, and damp. He looked sad.

“You okay, Mac?”

“Yeah.” I nodded casually. “You?”

“No. No, I’m not okay.” Alex’s voice was hoarse. “What are you doing?”

“Making myself pretty.” I shrugged, fluffing my hair in the mirror. “For when Grey comes back. I want to look good for him.”

Alex’s chin quivered, only slightly. He took a breath before he spoke, and when he did, his words were a whisper. “But Mackenzie, Grey’s not coming back.”

I shook my head, adamantly refusing the possibility. “Heiscoming back, Alex.” I insisted. I didn’t feel like explaining the whole situation to him, how my parents were trying to keep us apart. He’d probably think I was crazy. I’d show him, we both would.

Nothing could keep us apart. Nothing.

Alex swallowed heavily, his eyes falling to the floor, like he couldn’t bear to look at me anymore.

It hit me sometime in the night. I rolled over in bed and reached out for Grey—a familiar motion, something I’d done a million times before. This time, he wasn’t there.

He’s not there. I bolted upright in bed. Finally, the thoughts emerged; the horrendous, gut-wrenching truth I’d been so fervently denying.

He’s not there! He’s not there because he’s dead! He’s gone! Grey’s gone!

No. No. It couldn’t be true. Desperately, I clung to my delusion like a branch hanging over a waterfall, the one lifeline that could keep me from the horrible, drowning pain threatening to engulf me. Grey was coming for me. He was. He had to be…

But the truth would not be quieted, not now that it was out. It hit me like a kick in the guts, doubling me over, making me clutch my chest in pain as a long, shuddering, soundless sob tore through my body.

Grey was gone. He was gone.

I’d never known the echoing emptiness of total loss before. It tore through me in a heart-sickening wave. I fell from the bed and hit the floor, crawling, trying to catch my breath. Grey was all around me, but he was gone. Our room seemed too still without him there, like it was holding its breath—expectant—waiting for Grey to come sauntering through the door with his gorgeous face smirking, his blue eyes gleaming.

His amps were lined up against the wall, the pages of his lyrics piled on the desk, his scent clinging to his pillow, his guitar in its stand beside the bed. His clothes hung neatly on their hangers, clinging to the closet rod as if in fear of my chaotic, haphazard piles of laundry.

I took all this in, my eyes wild, my mind reeling. How could everybody say death was natural? How was it natural for someone to be here one moment and gone the next?

Forever?

It had only been a matter of hours—maybe a day since I’d last seen Grey, touched him, kissed him. Knowing I’d never be able to do so again, that he’d never smirk at me again, that he’d never whisper in my ear or sing to me with his beautiful voice, ever again…it was too much to bear.

Sobs ravaged through me, quiet sobs that shook my entire body, coming from somewhere deep inside, rattling my core. I grabbed the closest thing I could find, some remnant of Grey, anything he had once touched with his warm, strong hands. I cuddled myself around his amplifier.

This was all that I had left, his things. Never him. Ever again.

I couldn’t take it. My mind was too fragile, too weak to cope with the depth of such sorrow. I felt it tearing my soul apart, threatening to break me. It was unbearable, it was excruciating. There was only one thing that would help me escape, one thing that would enable me to survive such anguish. With tears flooding my eyes, gasping, I reached for my supplies.

Things were much better after. I found I could breathe again when I wasn’t being crushed with the weight of total despair. I curled up in a ball on the bed, wrapped my arms around my legs, and buried my face into Grey’s pillow. It smelled like him, like the delicious, masculine scent of his cologne.

I lay emotionless, slack with relief, blinking slowly, staring at nothing.

CHAPTER 60

At some point, Charlie came. I honestly had no idea how much time had lapsed since Grey’s death. It could have been hours, it could have been days, but it felt like eternity. I hadn’t moved much, maintaining a near zombie-like existence on our bed, clutching Grey’s pillow to my breast. As soon as I came down enough for the thoughts to permeate the velvet veil of self-medicated fog, I’d shoot up again. This was how Charlie found me, in a state somewhere between living and dying. Numb.

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