Page 44 of Between Hate and Desire

I turn on the light and look in the mirror at a zombie version of myself, with puffy eyes and a red nose. I’m in a constant state of sadness, but somehow, I force myself in the shower. I turn on the water as hot as it’ll go, hoping it will steal the place of the constant pain inside my heart, but it’s no use. For the first time in my life, I shower in silence. I lean against the wall and allow the stream to fall over me, to snap me out of this, but it’s no use.

The water goes cold, the only indicator I’ve been in here long enough, and I step out of the shower and dry off. I put on a dress and some flats, an outfit I’ve worn for class a half dozen times. After I blow-dry my hair, I pin it back so I look somewhat put together. Though I try, no amount of concealer will cover the dark circles under my eyes or the redness on my face, so I give up.

Walking into the kitchen, I find Brandon’s mug on the counter and then tears flood my eyes. Grief is a bitch and slaps me in the face as the memories of us drinking coffee together flood in.

I try to hold back my emotions as best as I can so Hunter doesn’t hear me. Ironic considering he’s heard me crying the past two days. He’s the only person who understands the loss I’m feeling. My sisters came over to comfort me, but I had nothing to say, so we sat in awkward silence. No words can describe how broken and lost I am. I’m unrepairable.

A soft hand lands on my shoulder, and I jump. Turning around, I wipe the tears from my cheeks and try to dry them up, though it’s no use.

“Lennon,” Hunter says softly. “I don’t think you’re ready to go back to work already. You need time to heal, to process everything. I’m sure the school would understand considering what happened.” He looks like he didn’t get any sleep either. It’s been a rough two days for us both. I can tell he’s emotionally angry too, but he’s better at hiding it than I am. Instead of crying like me, he holds it all in, but if he doesn’t release it soon, he’s eventually going to snap.

“I know…” my voice cracks and when tears fall, I wipe them away again. “But my students need me. The concert is on Friday, and they’ve worked so hard for this. Only three more days and then I’ll be on spring break and can process it all.”

I can tell he’s choosing his words carefully by the way he stares at me. “I understand, but just know that no one would blame you if you changed your mind. If you show up and feel as if you can’t do it, it’s okay to admit it.”

I don’t know how long Hunter plans to take off work, but I know he’s meeting with Brandon’s parents today to help with the funeral arrangements. Part of me is glad I won’t be there because I wouldn’t be any help, but I’m also appreciative that he’s being strong and doing this so Brandon’s parents don’t have to do it alone.

Nodding, I feel numb but am grateful I have this concert to keep me moving forward. I don’t feel like singing and pretending to be happy, but I will for my students. Grabbing my bag and keys, I head to work, hoping I can make it through the next three days without breaking down in front of the entire school. I have to be strong for them or at least try to be.

The school concert goes off without a hitch. It was the perfect distraction, and the kids sang their little hearts out. Many of them asked what was wrong because when they’d sing, I’d cry. While I didn’t want to lie, it was easier to say someone I cared about passed away and explain how proud I was of them. So damn proud.

After the performance, Principal Orson congratulated me for a job well done and gave her condolences. I think she knew I was in a fragile state of mind and left it at that, though I’ve heard the whispers about me being at work so grief stricken. For the most part, everyone was extremely understanding or at least acted like they were. But now it’s Sunday, a day I’ve been dreading for the past week because today’s the day I’ll put my love to rest.

Some people say funerals give closure to the soul, but to me, it only makes it real that Brandon’s never coming back. I wear the same black dress as on our Valentine’s Day date, and I don’t know how I’ll ever put it on again after this. Once I’m ready, I suck in a deep breath and sit on the couch, wishing I could sink inside the cushions and disappear.

Hunter walks into the living room, dressed in a sleek black suit. “Do you want to ride with me?”

I hear him talking, but I’m too lost in my head, thinking about this funeral and what it means once it’s over.

He walks farther into the room and kneels in front of me so we’re eye level. “Lennon. Do you want to ride with me?”

Blinking, I look at him, meeting his gaze. “Sure.”

“We should probably get going then,” he says, standing, then walks away. But I don’t know if I’m ready. I stand, and I lose the control I thought I had.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him. I try to stop crying but can’t seem to find the faucet to turn off the tears.

Hunter takes a few steps forward but maintains some distance between us. “Hey, hey. Don’t be sorry.”

I feel stupid each time I burst into tears around him. I know he doesn’t like me, and he’s only being nice because I’m so emotional right now. As difficult and impossible as it seems, I’ll eventually have to find my own place and try to move on with my life.

I inhale a deep breath and wipe my face.

“Ready?” Hunter lifts his eyebrows and gives me a small smile. The truth is, I don’t know if I can do this, but I know I have to.

I grab my phone and tuck it into my clutch, then follow Hunter outside. He walks beside me, and neither of us speaks. We get into the truck and drive across town to the church Brandon grew up attending. After we park, Hunter turns off the engine, and we sit and stare at the double doors that lead inside. His breathing increases and tears well on the edges of his eyes, but they don’t fall.

“I always imagined this’d be the place we’d get married,” I say aloud, but more so to myself.

Hunter stills, and a ragged breath escapes him.

“We should probably go inside.” He finally speaks after the silence awkwardly draws on too long.

I nod, get out of the truck, and force myself to walk across the parking lot and up the stairs. As soon as I enter, the scent of fresh flowers hits my nose, making me nauseous. The smell of roses used to bring me so much joy, and now the sweet smell seems so pungent. I look inside the chapel and see the black casket sitting at the front. My feet feel as if they’re glued to the floor, and as much as I want to move, I can’t.

Liam and Mason walk up and give Hunter a hug, then give me one too.

“I’m so sorry, Lennon,” Mason offers. “If you need anything…”

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