Page 46 of Between Hate and Desire

The pastor says a few words as I stare at the shiny black box in front of me. Memories of us together flood in, and for a moment, I hear his voice in my head, telling me it’s going to be okay. The minutes feel like hours, and then within a blink, it’s all over, and everyone walks away.

I take a single rose from the flower arrangement draped over the casket before they lower it into the ground. A scoop of dirt lands on top of the box and then another until my Brandon is fully covered. Then, just like that, it’s over, and I’m left to pick up the pieces of my broken heart alone.

Maddie and Sophie say their goodbyes. I hug Brandon’s family and walk to Hunter’s truck. We drive back to the apartment in silence and once we arrive, I numbly walk in and sit on the couch in a daze.

As I stare at the blank TV screen, I realize this is what true loneliness feels like. And I think it might be here to stay.

CHAPTER TWELVE

HUNTER

The hardest thingI’ve ever had to do in my life is bury my best friend. For the past six years, since we were freshmen in college, we’ve been inseparable. From playing football together, then becoming roommates, he’d been one of the only constants in my life. Through hard times, he always had my back and supported all my decisions, even if they were stupid. The only thing that could separate us was death itself—nothing could’ve gotten in the way of our friendship.

As I roll over and turn off the alarm on my phone, I think about how pissed I am. I told him not to buy that fucking motorcycle so many times, and he did it anyway. I wish I could go back in time and stress how bad of an idea it would be. Not that he would’ve listened to me, but I could’ve tried harder. Once Brandon made up his mind, nothing could change his decision, but I should’ve done more to persuade him. The guilt of that alone has me clenching my jaw, anger finding its way back in.

I sit on the edge of my bed and rub my hands over my face. I’m still numb from the funeral yesterday, and while I don’t want to go to work, I have to. Last week, I left early on a few days because I felt as if I were crumpling. My mind hasn’t been right since the day the officers delivered the news. A piece of me died with Brandon.

At first, I thought it had to be a mistake, but as the reality set in that he was in an accident, I’ve experienced a whirlwind of different emotions, and watching Lennon suffer through this hasn’t helped. I’ve tried to help her, though she’s not asked for anything.

Since she’s moved in, I’ve treated her like shit, and now things are awkward between us because neither of us knows where to go from here. I don’t know what to talk about, but I try to make sure she’s eating and gets off the couch some. What kills me the most is how she’s completely stopped singing since the accident. I used to nag her about it so much, but now it’s all I want. She’s not herself, and who knows if she will be again.

Though I admit I haven’t been myself lately, either. I’m short with people at work, and I want nothing more than to be alone to process my thoughts. I haven’t done that yet, and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to.

I force myself to stand and go through my morning routine. After I dress, I walk to the kitchen and turn on the light, then brew some coffee. I’m not ready for the day or to deal with the emptiness that blankets me. The coffee maker beeps, pulling me away from my thoughts, and I fill my to-go mug. As I snap on the lid, I feel someone behind me. I turn and see Lennon and give her a small smile. She smiles back, but it doesn’t meet her eyes the same way it used to.

“Do you want me to make you some breakfast?” I ask, knowing I don’t have time, but I’ll be late for her if that means she’s eating something.

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” She opens the fridge and grabs a bottle of water, then leaves the kitchen. I follow her into the living room where she’s determined to sleep every night.

And most of the day.

“Lennon, if you need anything while I’m at work, please call me.”

She lies down and pulls the blanket over her body and turns on her side, facing away from me. I hate that she’ll be alone like this, but I have to go.

“I will,” she mutters, and I know the conversation is over. It’s basically how we communicate lately. I’d much rather have her curse me out and tell me how much of a dick I am than see her like this.

After checking the time, I decide to leave and get on the road before I get stuck in traffic. As I pull up to the office building, I call Sophie.

“Hunter?” she asks when she answers the phone.

“Hey. Yeah. Sorry for calling you this early, but I’m worried about Lennon. If you have any free time throughout the week, can you stop by and make sure she’s eating, maybe get her out of the house or something? Maybe Maddie can help too if she has time?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ve been trying to reach her, but she’s been unresponsive,” Sophie says, defeated.

“She’s been like that with everyone lately. It’s going to take time, but I’m concerned. And if she needs anything, she’s too stubborn to ask anyone, especially me.”

She chuckles. “She is.” The line sits silent for a moment. “How are you doing with all this, Hunter? Are you okay?”

“As okay as I can be considering the situation. But hey, I’m walking into work, so I gotta go.” I try to get out of talking about myself, and we end the call. I have her sisters’ numbers in case I need them for things like this, which, so far, has come in handy.

After my morning meeting, I give my boss a status update on the apartment complex project. I spend the next few hours calling different contractors to go through the upcoming milestones and deadlines along with approving payments for the completed work. Before lunch, I let everyone in the office know I was going to the jobsite to do a walk around. After that’s done, I stop by a local taco shop that Lennon loves and pick up her favorite burrito.

I drive across town to the apartment, and when I walk in, I’m surprised to see she’s not on the couch. The water is on in the shower, and when I set the food down on the table, it stops. Moments later, she’s stepping into the room towel drying her hair, and when she sees me, a terrifying scream escapes her.

I hold out my hand. “I’m sorry. I thought I’d bring you lunch. I got your favorite burrito from Taco Ranchero.”

“Hunter.” She tilts her head as she tries to catch her breath. “You don’t have to take care of me, okay?”

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