14. Chapter 14

14

Heath

Pushing out the rusty iron gates, I follow the path leading deep into the cemetery that is as old as this town. It's situated at the foot of the hills with an enormous forest attached to the back of it. Clouds hang over the hills and slopes covered with trees.

A ghostly silence whirls in the air turning my blood cold. I come here often, but the serenity and quietness haunt me for hours later.

Slipping my hands into the pockets of my jeans, I approach Emery's grave. The hollowness in my chest expands into a black hole, and despair and sadness settle in and weigh on my chest like a rock.

I glare at the tombstone, reading the details for the millionth time. I've stared at those few lines for so long that by now I've memorized them.

She was only sixteen when cancer killed her. In a matter of months, it progressed so aggressively that chemo and radiation did not affect it. It was past the stage of treatment. Instead, a deadline hung over her head.

In her last days, she was positive. Her light circled her so brightly. I wished I'd soaked enough in it so it'd last me a lifetime.

Every single day down to every minute, I spent by her side. There was peace listening to the beeping sounds of the machines and watching her breathe when she was sleeping.

I wish I could stretch those moments for several years more because letting go of her so soon broke my fucking heart—something that feels empty now.

Some moments in life alter the whole course of your existence. They are like shooting stars. You never see them coming but when you do, it's too damn late. They are gone so quickly.

Sitting on my toes, I put down the bouquet of fresh lilies I bought on my way. It was her favorite flower. She always wished someone would buy them for her.

Words die on my tongue. I used to talk to her for hours when I first visited her grave, but with time lack of response burrowed a hole in me. She is on the other side of the world. Maybe it's time I believe it and stop holding onto her like she's a ghost and roams around. That'd be crazy to believe anyway. I want her to be in the afterlife, not here, even if that means I'll never see her or talk to her.

I turn to leave when I catch sight of Denrick. When he sees me, his eyes go wide, and he freezes into a damn statue. I breathe fire seeing his ugly face.

Before I know it, I'm striding over to him with heavy steps. "What the fuck are you doing here?" I seethe, gripping him by his collar and yanking him over to me.

"The same reason why you are here."

Lifting my arm, I punch him across the face and his face whips to the other side.

My veins are close to bursting as adrenaline mixed with rage flows through my blood.

"I told you to stay away from here." I kick him in the stomach.

Denrick falls to the ground and doubles over in pain. A groan leaves his mouth as he clutches his stomach and rolls to one side.

"Stop it," he wheezes out, eyes glistening with tears.

My eyes fall on the scar I gave him. When I found out about him, I slammed his head into the wall to kill him, but the fucker survived. He was Emery's secret boyfriend, and she'd told no one about him—not even me which annoyed me. Later, I asked why she didn't, and she told me I'd be mad at her. It was a valid reason. I wanted to protect her from everything and everyone. Denrick was the first person who noticed the signs of my sister's failing health, but he didn't do anything about it. Because of him, it was too late.

You were as ignorant as him.

Fuck. I was.

I should've paid more attention to Emery. I should've noticed how her health was worsening when I thought she was just exhausted from school. It was fucking naive of me.

One mistake led me to this moment.

"I should fucking kill you for what you did." I grit in anger as my body vibrates with the desire to just do it. But I don't. Because I'm also to blame.

After the cemetery, I spend the rest of the day at my secret spot. My mind is a tangled web of thoughts and memories. I like visiting her grave, it brings me closer to her because she's physically there, but it always takes a toll on me.

I go to this dark place that makes me want to die.

Sadness weighs so heavily over my chest that it hurts to breathe. Panic attacks also happen, and I wish for one of them to end me, but I survive every time.

I think about Sebastian and Marie. The two people in my life who'd be devastated if something happened to me. In moments of pure chaos, where my mind overtakes my body, their faces peek through my paranoia and stop me from attempting something.

It hurts.

It hurts a fucking lot.

I want the pain to stop. I want to feel better. I want to breathe.

But the reminder that my sister, my best friend, my favorite person, isn't in the world anymore keeps coming back.

I drive to school after smoking a bunch of cigarettes. My car reeks of the pungent smell, but at least I'm not feeling chaotic anymore. My mind is quiet and calm.

I'm waiting for Hope outside the school when my phone pings.

Sebastian: You missed school again.

Sebastian: Is everything okay?

My best friend worries too much. Especially after he's come out of rehab and therapy. He thinks he can help me, but he can't. There's nothing wrong with me. I'm fucking fine.

Heath: Everything's fine.

A knock on the window pulls my attention. Sebastian is standing next to my car holding his phone with my text on screen.

I unlock the door, and he quickly gets in.

"Where were you?" he asks in a tone laced with worry.

"No greeting for me?" I tease him to move over this question.

He faces me with the expression I'm-not-letting-this-go.

Fuck . Now I'm going to get fucking lectured. Fucking great.

"Stop dodging the question and tell me where you were."

If I told him he'd worry ten times more, and I don't want to cause him distress. Since last year he's tried his best to help me in whatever way that he can. He was there for me more than he was there for himself. Something I'll never forgive myself for. I was somewhat privy to his struggles at his home, but he didn't tell me how fucking bad they were. He's always been someone to take care of others and not think about himself. He's the most selfless person I know. For once, I want to be like him. Deal with my shit on my own.

Instead of answering him, I search for Hope in the crowd.

A pretty girl reading a book. Where is she?

Sebastian sighs heavily. "Heath, stop ignoring me."

"I'm not."

His expression hardens. "Where were you?"

I sigh, knowing he won't let go. "I was at the cemetery."

A frown dips between his eyebrows, and his eyes fill with sorrow.

Fuck, not that look. I want to dig a fucking cave in the hills and never come out, just to avoid this pathetic look. I don't need fucking pity or sympathy.

Yes, my sister died. It doesn't mean I'm a fragile, broken person who needs assurance, nice words or a fucking hug. I need nothing. I don't want others to worry about me, especially Sebastian. I hate when he stresses over me.

Why don't I just die already?

He watches me closely. "Your knuckles are red. Did you punch a tree or something?"

"Denrick was there."

He curses. "Heath don't tell me you—"

My gaze finally locks on the person I'm looking for. "Get out of my car."

He pauses, then says, "Excuse me!"

I glare at him. "I have something to do, and I need you to leave this second."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

For fuck's sake.

He sniffs the air, then narrows his eyes. "You were smoking, weren't you? How many times—"

"Sebastian, leave."

I see Hope nearing my car with Marie who's talking to her in her animated way—moving hands and smiling like a sun. But she's not why my heart is almost beating out of my chest. It's the girl next to her.

Hope is in a plaid skirt that has her long, thin legs exposed and a cream sweater that fits her skinny frame perfectly. Her brown hair falls on her shoulders in soft waves that make me want to run my fingers through it.

What the fuck? I did not think that.

I must be staring at her because Sebastian follows my gaze.

"You're picking her up, aren't you?" He shoots me a teasing smile.

I can barely speak. I'm stunned by how fucking beautiful she looks.

He chuckles and I have the urge to smash his fucking face. "This is interesting."

Hope and Marie stand next to my car engrossed in a conversation that makes Hope laugh and hold her book tightly to her chest. She looks even more beautiful up close.

I gesture to Sebastian to get out, but he leans back in the seat. I swear if he doesn't get out I'll kill him with my bare hands.

"Sebastian—"

"Fine, okay. No need to growl at me."

He opens the door. Marie bends down and kisses him, then turns to me.

"Hi." She waves at me with a grin.

"Tell your boyfriend to get his ass out of my car," I order.

Marie turns to Sebastian, who whispers something to her that makes her smile big.

Sebastian steps out and shakes hands with Hope which makes me want to punch him. He could have waved or smiled. No need to touch her. They start talking when I beep the horn, and he bends down and grins. I actually hate him.

"Hope get in the car," I say in a tense voice.

She gets inside quickly. She puts her bag on the floor and her book on her lap.

I notice her red cheeks that make her look so fucking pretty.

My hands tighten around the steering wheel. I try to extinguish the feelings burning inside of me. But when I see her, my stomach curls in a weird feeling. What the actual fuck is this girl doing to me?

"Hi," she says with a hint of a smile.

"Hi," I say looking into her beautiful eyes.

"Um, thank you for last night, and also for picking me up." She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear and peeks up at me.

My palms turn warm.

Is it fucking hot in here?

Why is it fucking hot in here?

Summer is over. Why the fuck am I sweating?

I turn on the ignition and pull out of the school.

"It's nothing," I grumble.

"It's something," she says sweetly.

That fucking smile. I swear I'd do anything for it.

"Are you hungry?"

Hope is so skinny it makes me want to feed her. I haven't seen her under her clothes—I imagine it sometimes—but I bet she's all bones and no skin. Something about it unsettles me because I know how it ended when I ignored it.

"No." She fiddles with her fingers in her lap.

I know right away she's nervous, so I make the decision. "I'm gonna grab food from the diner."

At the station, I make the usual order and pay for it. When we pick the bags from the next station I put hers on her lap and mine on the back seat. I knew she wouldn't eat unless it was for me too. So, I did it for her. Which is odd. I've never done things out of kindness or care for anyone except for my friends and sister.

"You didn't have—"

"It's already done."

"Thank you." She smiles at me. This smile is different from before. It's the kind that makes me want to buy every item off the menu and have it in front of her.

What the fuck is going on with me? Why am I feeling like this with her?

Pressing hard on the accelerator, I drive around while she eats. My playlist plays in the background that's filled with Chase Atlantic and The Coldplay songs. The two artists I listen to the most.

Once she's done I drive us to my place. Punching in the passcode, the gates open of my house, I speed down the driveway and park in the garage.

When I cut the engine, I notice Hope scan the room in awe. I watch her with strange amusement.

"Do you like cars?" I ask.

"Who doesn't?" She stares at the white Audi that my sister owned. I haven't driven it since her.

My heart squeezes into a ball. I push down the despair and focus on the girl beside me.

"That one isn't mine," I share.

"Oh." She purses her lips. "Who does it belong to?"

I fight with myself whether to share the information or not. I know she'd feel sorry for me and try to tip-toe around me like I'm broken—which I'm fucking not—and some selfish part of me doesn't want that. I want her to see me like she does right now. Just a normal guy, who feels strange things when she's near him.

I step out. "We should get inside."

Hope stares at the foyer with big eyes, taking in every inch of the walls and ceiling. Fascination and wonder cross her face as if she's seeing a mansion for the first time in her life.

Compared to her house, mine is a work of art. There are plenty of rooms, bathrooms, and hallways with a private garage. Also, a garden of one good acre of land, with an array of trees and bushes. The staff and security are also present.

My parents wanted Emery and me to grow up in a nice house, but not a loving home. This place has everything a child could wish for, every luxury you could desire for, yet it lacks warmth and sweetness. Something I felt when Marie invited Sebastian and me to her place. Her house feels like home. Maybe it's because she has parents who love each other and adore their daughter.

"Let's go up to my room."

I should give her a tour. Maybe later.

We take the stairs and walk down the long hallway that has my room at the end of it. I open the door for her and let her in.

She pauses in the doorway. "Wow."

My room is my sanctuary. I spend most of my time here. From breaking down to having panic attacks in the middle of the night. This place feels safe for me to be myself and not have someone else witness the worst moments of myself.

She gapes. "You have a really big room."

I give her a gentle push to enter. "I guess."

"My room can fit in here fifty times."

I cough the chuckle that threatens to leave my throat. "Don't you think that's too much?" I fold my arms over my chest.

Her gaze immediately cuts to my arms, then back at me. "I'm sure."

I gesture to the couch, and she follows.

I contemplate whether to sit at the other end of the couch or beside her. The decision is easily made when she looks up at me with her brown eyes. I can't resist being away from them.

Cursing at myself, I join her and watch as she retrieves different bracelets from her bag and spreads them on the coffee table. They all look impressive. Beads, clay objects like flowers, circles, butterflies, cubes, and stars, in various colors and sizes fill the strings with each one having a silver clasp.

I have no idea how she came up with this, but she's fucking brilliant and creative.

Because of Emery, and the little jewelry that I wear, I have an eye for good stuff. Without a doubt, Hope makes good stuff. Amazing stuff.

She watches me with a tiny smile and flushed face. She's embarrassed.

"This is beautiful," I find myself saying. My true, honest opinion.

The crimson red in her cheeks suffuses more, and she refuses to make eye contact with me. "Thank you. I made these—" picking up a good amount "—last night."

"You didn't sleep?" I ask quickly.

"I couldn't sleep."

I notice the quiver in her voice. I want to ask her about it.

Something tells me that she'll shut down. Like last night. The way she told me ‘Let it go, please.' I'd be a fucking asshole to push her again.

Deciding not to ponder over it, I take out my phone and hand it to her.

For an hour, we take tons of pictures using the coffee table as a prop. Afterward, I help her make an Instagram account and teach her a few things about marketing. The more I tell her, the more she's captivated. I find it fucking cute.

I'm losing my fucking mind. That's what's happening.

By the time we wind up, the night covers every inch of the sky with clouds flying in different forms.

Besides me, she posts the photos and closes the app in a hurry. "It's done."

"Nervous?" I ask as she hands me back my phone.

She nods. "Very much. I don't know if anyone will buy it. It's nerve-wracking."

"The very first thing our business teacher taught us was ‘every opportunity in life is a risk.' You either win or you learn."

She rubs her arms. I immediately know she's nervous.

It's puzzling how easily I read her. Her body language speaks to me. I can't help but store every new thing I learn about her because I want to.

"You're right. It's not like I have anything to lose."

"This will fucking work," I assure her, so she doesn't look sad. For some strange reason that frown and worry swimming in her eyes tug the strings of my numb heart.

A smile dances on her lips. "Thank you for helping me. I wish I could help you back in some way."

"I don't need your help."

"There could be something."

I lean back and turn my head toward her. "Don't fucking dwell over it."

Mimicking me, she leans back and turns her head toward me. "I'm not used to kindness."

"You should get used to it." I'll be offering you a fucking lot of it.

"You're a good person."

I don't say anything.

Deep down I know that I'm not. I hurt people with my icy tone. That's not something a good person does.

"That car belongs to my sister," I explain.

Surprise washes over her like an unexpected tidal wave.

I gulp hard to swallow the brimming emotions. Why the fuck I shared that with her?

"You have a sister?" she asks quietly.

I nod and avoid eye contact.

"Is she around? I should've greeted her." She stands up to go search for her. If only she were here.

Taking her hand, I pull her down and she falls over me. Those light brown eyes peer up at me in confusion, but otherwise, her body stays relaxed in my hold. Good. I don't want her to fear me.

"She's dead," I state in a gravel tone that scratches my throat in the most agonizing way.

A gasp leaves her, and her eyes fill with tears. The sight should annoy the fuck out of me, but it doesn't. I see her feeling my pain and understanding me.

"W-when? How?" Her questions are better than sympathy and pity.

"Cancer. Last year," I brief, my voice monotone due to repeating those words a dozen times. At this point, I can even write them down in my sleep.

Hope stares at me with such despair and sorrow, my hand itches to comfort her. I just don't know how to do that. I barely know how to comfort myself on nights when I'm crying like a toddler while curled up on my bed.

My mind is trapped in a haze, which explains why I don't react when arms circle around my neck, and a warm body presses against mine in a fierce hold.

My heart beats loudly.

I stay frozen in her hold. I want nothing more than to return it, but I can't fucking move.

Emery's face laps around my mind. She's all I can focus on. The fact that she isn't here anymore. It hurts. It hurts a lot.

"I'm sorry for your loss," she whispers in my shoulder, bringing my attention to her.

I take a deep breath. Her lavender scent enters me and takes over me like a storm without warning. She tightens her arms around my neck with unspoken words. I feel your pain and I want to take it away.

"It's fine." The words are just words.

Hope doesn't say anything. She just keeps her arms around me.

For the first time in my life, she's all I can think of instead of my sister.

"You didn't need to hug me," I say.

"You looked like you needed a hug."

Fuck me.

Someone knocks on the door making her scramble off me. It opens, making me want to kill the person on the other side for interrupting us and my hug.

"Dinner is ready, sir." Derek flits his gaze on Hope. I can already read the suspicions in his head and the news traveling to my dad. I really don't want that to happen. I want to keep every aspect of my life hidden away from my parents because their opinions don't matter to me. They don't matter to me.

"I should go. I didn't think it'd get this late." Hope tosses everything into her bag.

"Stay," I end up saying and it surprises us both.

She clears her throat. "I'll eat at home."

I stand up. She's a couple of inches shorter than me and reaches my chest.

"Eat dinner with me, then I'll drive you home," I suggest.

Her teeth gnaw at her bottom lip and the action makes my insides twist and turn.

"Are you sure?" she asks in a low voice.

"Yes," I reply in a heartbeat.

"I'll stay then." She smiles.