Page 13 of Never Again (Never Blue)

Tali

Ten Years Ago

This wasthe third year Ben’s mother, Aviva, had asked me to come down to Virginia on the anniversary of his death, and every year, I’d turned her down. Not because I didn’t miss him or want to grieve with her. Even three years later, I ached from missing him, and not just him, but who I was before he died and everything changed.

Aviva understood. She hadn’t expected me to accept her invitation, not when Claudia would also be there.

This year was different, though. Claudia was living in Japan for a year, teaching English, so it would just be Ben’s parents and a few relatives. I didn’t have it in my heart to say no again. Aviva had lost her son. All she had left were memories. If I could go to her and give her some of mine, she’d have another piece of him she hadn’t had before.

Tino and Nina had both offered to go with me, but they were busy with their jobs and relationships, so I told them to stay home. It would be good for me to spend the weekend with Ben’s family, filling myself up with everything I’d loved about him.

It took a minute for someone to answer the door after I knocked. The second I saw Aviva’s stricken face, I knew something was wrong.

She stepped out on the porch, closing the door behind her before pulling me into a tight hug. “It’s so good to see you, sweetheart,” she said through a thick layer of tears.

I hugged her just as fiercely. We didn’t know each other particularly well, but we’d both loved a damaged boy, and being close to each other strengthened our connection to him.

She ran her hands over my hair, pulling it in front of my shoulders. “Look at you. You’re beautiful, Tali. So grown up.”

I’d taken care to look nice, even though my insides were tearing apart from the weight of memories of that day. I guessed I’d wanted Aviva to see I was okay so she wouldn’t have to worry about me. Thankfully, she couldn’t tell I’d sobbed through blow drying my hair and had nearly thrown up while slipping on my sundress and Docs.

“Thank you. You look great too.” I glanced around at the empty porch and my overnight bag at my feet. “Should we go in, or…?”

Her hands squeezed my shoulders, tears shining in her blue eyes. “Sweetheart, I didn’t know he’d be here. You have to believe me. But I...I couldn’t send him away.”

My hand flew to my mouth. “Jude?”

She nodded. “He got here this morning and plans on staying the night. I told him you were coming and made him promise to leave you alone.”

“Aviva,” I sighed. Most of me wanted to scream until my throat was raw and my voice disappeared, but I didn’t. I’d driven down from New York to be here for Ben. I’d known this weekend would be painful. I’d steeled myself for it. But I didn’t know if I was strong enough to withstand spending an entire day in Jude’s presence, whether he left me alone or not. For Ben and Aviva, I’d try, though.

I picked up my bag. “It’s fine. We’re both here for Ben, not each other. I can be a big girl.”

Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, her hand at her throat. “Thank you, Tali. Thank you for coming, and thank you for staying.”

She led me inside and pointed me up the stairs to the bedroom I’d be sleeping in, knowing I might need a minute to compose myself.

When I pushed the bedroom door open, I realized my mistake immediately. Aviva had said the third door, not the second, but I’d gotten mixed up. This was Jude’s room, and he was there, pulling a T-shirt over his head.

My feet didn’t allow me to escape with dignity. His eyes found mine the second I stumbled.

“Stripes.”

Pain ripped through me, and this time, my feet worked, carrying me down the hall to the correct room. He followed me, closing the door behind him, closing me inside the room withhim.

I refused to look at him. It was childish, but I hadn’t asked for this. I came to grieve my friend, not have some horrific reunion with the man who’d broken my heart in so many ways, it still wasn’t pieced back together correctly.

“Stripes,” he said softly. “I didn’t know you were coming this year.”

He came up behind me, hovering close, but not touching me. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Are you high?” I asked.

He let out a heavy breath, tickling my shoulder. “Yeah.”

“Then I don’t want any sort of apology from you.”

He let his head drop to my shoulder, as if he had the right to touch me. I didn’t shrug him off or move, not right away. He was too familiar, even with whatever chemicals were swimming through his veins.

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