Page 75 of Fun and Games
"Neither did I." My eyes stung. "He must have had them already. He never told me."
She took me into her arms again, her expression pained. "I'm sorry."
"I thought I was doing okay," I said as I curled into her. "I thought I'd moved on. And then I opened the box and saw the rings and—"
My breath hitched in a suppressed sob. Sheila made a hushing sound and ran her hand up and down my back.
"It's okay to be sad," she said. "You lost someone important to you in a terrible way."
I couldn't suppress the sobs any longer. They fell from my lips like a raging storm.
"I watched him die," I said in a near wail. "We were supposed to be together forever and I had to watch him wither away in front of me. I watched him take his last breath. I held his hand and felt it go limp as all the life left his body.I watched him die."
Sheila held me as I cried. She sat me down on the sofa and let me stain her shirt with my tears. I clutched at her like a child, desperate for whatever comfort I could get.
Slowly, the tears abated and my sobbing slowed.
"I don't know if I can ever get over this," I whispered.
"You're strong," Sheila said, squeezing me tight. "You're one of the strongest people I know. But you don't have to do it alone. You have people who love you. People who want to be there for you."
Again, my mind flashed to Mason.
He'd been there for me. He'd wanted to help me. He'd listened and cared for me.
And I'd pushed him away.
I rubbed at my tired eyes.
"Thank you," I said. "I'm sorry I worried you. I'm sorry you had to come all this way."
She pressed a kiss to my forehead.
"Anything for my little sister." She sat up straight, put her hands on my shoulders again, and looked me straight in the eyes. "Now. Tell me about this guy, Mason."
My mouth gaped open.
"How do you know about Mason?" I asked, astonished.
She nodded her chin to my phone that had been sitting face up on the coffee table this entire time.
"He's been texting you non-stop for the last ten minutes," Sheila said, her lips quirking into a smile.
"Oh." I picked up my phone. "He's a friend."
"It looks like he's worried about you, too," my sister said. "Does he know what happened?"
"He was here when I opened the package." I looked down at my lap, ashamed. "I yelled at him and kicked him out."
"Ouch." Sheila winced. "You could have handled that better."
I let out a soft snort. "Yeah, probably."
"Are you going to write back to him?" she asked.
"I don't know what to say."
"Start with,I'm sorry for yelling at youand go from there," she suggested. "Does he know the whole story?"
