Page 25 of Never To Forever

Climbing back into my truck, I continue on to the cemetery, my mind jumping between the two points of my struggle—my desire for Marie, and my promise to Mom. I feel like I can’t acknowledge one without betraying the other. I also know I can’t continue in this confusing haze of guilt.

Reaching the cemetery, I drive down the little dirt road, cutting through the collection of tombstones toward the area where my mother is buried. It’s a peaceful place, surrounded by trees and dotted with bright flowers and displays around the graves from friends and family wanting to leave something for their loved one. There’s a long row of American flags lined up toward the back of the cemetery with the names of the veterans laid to rest here. As far as I can tell, no one else is here right now.

Then I crest the hill that leads to Mom’s spot, and to my surprise, I find a familiar car already parked at the end of the row where she’s at. I stop the truck and frown, my stomach flipping.

I’d recognize that car anywhere… it’s Marie’s.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

MARIE

The sun warmsmy back as I kneel before Leila Merritt’s grave, the bouquet of fresh daisies trembling in my hands. The cemetery is quiet, the kind of stillness that wraps itself around you and doesn’t let go. It’s peaceful, I suppose, but that peace only amplifies the guilt and sadness gnawing at my chest.

I set the flowers down gently, smoothing the ribbon around their stems.

"Hi, Leila," I whisper, my voice catching on her name. "It’s been a while. I'm sorry I didn’t come sooner."

The lump in my throat grows as I trace the engraving on the headstone:Leila Merritt, Beloved Wife, Mother, and Friend.If there was ever someone who embodied those words, it was her. She wasn’t just a friend to me—she was so much more. After my mom passed, Leila stepped into that role with open arms, never making me feel like a burden, never treating me like the awkward outsider I felt I was at home.

I sit back on my heels, letting out a shaky breath.

"I’m sorry," I whisper. "I should’ve been there that weekend. I should’ve..." The words stick in my throat. "I wasn’t there to say goodbye, and it’s one of the biggest regrets of my life. I should’ve said no to Dad and Meredith. They wanted to go on a stupid weekend getaway, and I had to watch the kids. I was so angry because they knew you were sick and how much I wanted to be there in case you passed. They just didn’t care, and I didn’t push back when they guilted me into doing what they wanted. I should’ve been there for you, like you always were for me."

I’d known Leila was dying, that she could go at any time, but when my dad and stepmom - mostly stepmom and Dad giving into her every whim - guilted me into babysitting my youngest siblings so they could go away for the weekend, I’d convinced myself it was fine. That Leila would still be here when I was free to visit her one last time.

She wasn’t.

"If I’m honest, it’s not completely their faults,” I murmur. “I couldn’t face your death. Couldn’t handle it. I avoided it as much as I could, and that was such a shitty thing to do. I’d lost my mom, and I didn’t think I could handle losing you too. I wish I could go back," I choke, my fingers brushing against the cool stone. "I wish I could tell you how much you meant to me, how much youstillmean to me."

Leila had never once treated me like an afterthought, unlike Meredith, who only ever sees me as an obligation. Leila listened when I needed to talk, hugged me when I felt like breaking, and cheered me on when I couldn’t even cheer for myself. She gave me a place to belong when I didn’t have one. Opened her home and her family to me. She didn’t have to. Even though she’d been friends with my mom, Leila had been under no obligation to give a shit about me.

Yet, she did. I was able to have a somewhat normal childhood because of her, and I could spend almost every day with my best friend. Leila made losing my mom easier to deal with. When I was a teenager and needed a female figure to guide me through those tumultuous years to adulthood, Leila was that guide, not Meredith. When I was with Leila, I never doubted that she loved me. That her whole family did.

"You were more of a real mom to me," I admit. "More than Meredith could ever be, and I… I miss you every single day."

I wipe my cheeks quickly as the tears keep coming, my breath hitching in quick gasps. Suddenly, I hear footsteps crunching on the gravel behind me. My heart skips a beat, and I turn, startled.

It’s Garrett.

He’s standing there, tall and broad, with his familiar guarded expression that softens when his eyes meet mine. He’s holding a bouquet of brightly colored flowers. The sight of him here, of all places, leaves me speechless. I haven’t seen him in nearly a week—not since our kiss. My heart races, and I swallow, nervous. Is he going to run away again?

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he says, his voice low and steady.

I stand quickly, brushing off the grass from my knees and wiping at my eyes.

"You’re not interrupting," I stammer, even though my face is probably blotchy and red. "I—I didn’t know you’d be here. Sorry… I mean, I didn’t know anyone would be here. I wouldn’t have come… or, rather, I would have, but…"

Oh, God, I’m rambling. Why can’t I keep it together around him? I wish I’d been more prepared to see him again, but being caught off guard like this is making my brain spin and my thoughts race. His gaze drifts to Leila’s headstone, and I feel exposed somehow, like he’s glimpsing something I didn’t intend to share.

"Came to see Mom," he says simply, lifting the flowers slightly as if to explain.

Of course. Leila’s his mom, after all, not mine. He has way more of a right to be here than I do. I feel like I’m intruding or am somewhere I shouldn’t be. I take a shaky breath and gesture toward the gravestone.

"I was just visiting Leila… didn’t mean to get in the way at all. I just needed to… to talk to her." My voice falters, and I look away, embarrassed by how raw my emotions are.

"You don’t have to apologize for that," Garrett says softly, and when I glance at him, his eyes are full of kindness and he’s smiling gently. "I know how important she was to you. You’re allowed to miss her, and you’re definitely allowed to visit her whenever you want. You don't need my permission."

Something about the way he says it, steady and unjudging, loosens the knot in my chest.

---