Page 206 of We Can't Be Friends

I’m going to see Aaron today.

The grass is damp with morning dew, a light fog making the cemetery more eerie than welcoming. Laying a flannel blanket out, I button my jean jacket as I sit down.

Fighting away my tears is pointless. I relinquish years of pent up emotions.

“Hey, big brother,” I start talking. Well, trying. I start and stop several times. “I’m sorry I haven’t been by to see you. . . ever, not that you know that. Or maybe you do. I’m not sure what the afterlife is like. I miss you. A lot. So freaking much. Coming here felt too permanent. I keep hoping to wake up from this nightmare.” I fumble over my next apology. “I’m sorry I let you down. I’m sorry I wasn’t responsible enough and this happened. Callum says it isn’t my fault, but I don’t know how to relinquish that part of me. Can you forgive me?”

A warm breeze sweeps across my shoulders.

I cry-laugh, “I take that as a yes.”

There’s another breeze and the grass crunches behind me.

“Mind if I join?” Miller asks.

I pat the spot beside me on the blanket.

“Hey, dude. Riley asked about you this month.” My head jerks to Miller, mouth hanging open. In my selfish version of grief, I never thought about what it would look like for Miller to tell Riley about Aaron. “He saw a picture of you in my bedroom.A bigger version of you, Dad.The little guy is determined that you’d be better at hockey than me; he’s probably right.” Miller must come here often based on how easily he’s talking. “Asked when he can meet you.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him the truth, Chlo. He’s six, doesn’t understand fully. Thinks that Aaron is a badass guardian angel, though.” We both laugh at that.

“How do you do it? Come here.”

“I didn’t at first, but I missed talking to him. Before I moved, I came out here weekly and just caught him up on life. He’s a great listener,” Miller jokes lightly. “Now, I’ll come when we play in Boston, but I keep a journal and write to him.”

“And it helps?”

He nods. “I wanted to talk to you about it, but you ran. You vanished after graduation, and I thought you were fine.”

“I wasn’t fine. . .” my voice breaks. “I thought it was my fault.”

“Your fault? Chloe, it was a drunk driver.”

Sitting beside each other, focused on Aaron’s headstone, I spill everything to Miller. Words and years of grief pour out of me. “I’ve blamed myself for nine years that Aaron died. I ran because I didn’t want to lose you too.”

“Chloe, you wouldn’t.”

“You say that now. Are you mad at me?”

“Not because of the accident, I don’t blame you.” My twin grabs my hand, squeezing it. “I’m mad because you chose to go through this alone. Just because our grief took different shapesdoesn’t mean we weren’t dealing with grief. I needed and wanted my twin.”

“I did too. . .”

“Then don’t run away again. Stop forcing goodbyes because you believe you deserve them.”

“I’m done doing that. Love you, Mills.”

“Love you too, sis. Now tell Aaron about Cal. You know he’d want to know about who his sister is in love with.”

***

*attached photo*

Tucker took your side of the bed

I forgot how bad at cooking I am.

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