Page 104 of Wrecked
Including my sister.
Even if she had feelings for Nathan, my actions were undeserving. She’s my best friend, and I set her up to fail. I set her up to hurt me so that I could wipe my hands of both of them. So that I could protect the most broken parts of me. I was so ready to close my heart off toeveryonethat I didn’t even try to understand.
I loved her more than anything.
Even more than Nathan.
Now she’s gone…and it’s my fault.
I can’t hold it back anymore. I kick my heels off, then pick them up and run. I run away from the plot where they are lowering two empty caskets into the ground. Caskets meant for two people that I’ll never get to say goodbye to.
Tears roll down my cheeks before I can make it away from the funeral crowd. My mother calls after me, but I ignore her. I keep running, my body overwhelmed with sobs.
I’m dying.
I’m fucking dying.
Everything inside me is shattering.
I’m wrecked. I’m wrecked, and I will never be okay.
“Please.” I look up at the sky, my words thick with tears. “Please God, please. I want them back. I want her back.” I drop to my knees in the wet grass, lying down when I feel the first raindrops hit my face. I pull my knees to my chest as thunder roars in the distance. My shoulders heave from the force of my tears. “It’s not fair! It’s not fucking fair!” I shout to no one. To everyone. To whatever higher power took them from me.
I lie here as the world around me disappears, and the Priest’s prayer turns into a whispered hum. I lie here weeping, thinking how it’s my sister I would turn to at this moment, a cruel reminder of my current reality. I lie here when I hear thefuneral attendees head back to their cars, gravel crunching as they drive away. I lie here as the heavy rain mixes with my heavy sobs.
I lie here and fall apart.
When I finally pull myself offthe cemetery lawn, I fix my hair and makeup in my car, and head over to the Westin mansion. Emmy volunteered her home for a shared reception.
It never made sense to me, having a party after a funeral. What are we supposed to be celebrating? The loss of people we loved? I’m not celebrating, I’m fucking grieving. I’m fucking dying. How are people expected to eat and drink after watching the caskets of their loved ones enter the earth?
I don’t want to be there. I want to grab a bottle of tequila and go home. Take a nice long drunken bath and let the liquor help me forget. I don’t even fucking drink, and I want to be so drunk that I forget about the hell I’m living.
I pull into the driveway of the man I hate—a man who is no longer living—and wonder if this is some sort of karma. I celebrated the dayhedied. Prayed for it, honestly. When I got the news, I didn’t shed a single tear.
Now I stand outside of his house andcelebratethe death of his son. Of my sister.
I walk inside the front doors and make my rounds. I’m pulled in all directions, everyone wanting to offer their sympathies. Everyone wanting anexclusivewith the girl who lost everything. I’m overwhelmed and about two seconds from a panic attack.
I fight my way through the crowd and out the back door. I take a deep breath of the fresh air but inhale cigarette smoke instead.
“Hey, Katie girl.”
Ash.
“Hi, Ash.” My voice is husky from all of my tears. “I thought you quit?”
“I did.” He scoffs. “For a while. I guess losing your best friend in a plane crash sort of fucks with your commitment to ditch old habits,” he nods down at my glass of champagne, “thought you don’t drink?”
“I don’t. My fa—my stepfather is an alcoholic. Mom, too, she’s recovering though. I try to stay away from it, but…”
He lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah…but.” He puts out his cigarette and flicks it in the grass. “I’m going to go inside to look for Ems. You good out here, doll?”
“I’m good, Ash.”
He turns to walk inside, squeezing my shoulder as he passes.
“Hey, Asher?” He stops, raising a brow in question. “I…I know. About Nate…and Ellie…all of it. I know I wasn’t getting married. So…so you don’t have to feel weird knowing that and not telling me. I just…I hope I still get to see you sometime.” I shrug, feeling stupid for guilting Nate’s best friend into keeping in touch with me.
