Page 58 of The Flirty Vet

"You were seven when it happened, right?"

"Yeah."

"That's so young."

"She was."

I meant Col was so young, not his mother, but I don't correct him.

He takes his hand off me, resting it by his side. "Last year was especially rough for me. I turned twenty-five. That's the same age she was when she died."

I don't know what to say, so I keep my mouth closed for once. As the silence lengthens, my fingers find their way into his hair, gently scraping along his scalp. He lets out a low hum.

"I don't want to trauma dump all my shit onto you, Wilby."

"Mate, you can tell me as much or as little as you like. It's up to you."

He takes a while to say anything. "It's hard to put into words how I feel. Sometimes I'm sad. For her. For me. For missing outon all the normal mom-kid things most people take for granted because they're so common. Like school drop-offs. Or having her tuck me in at night. Being there for my graduation. Just, everyday life stuff, you know?"

I nod.

"Sometimes I'm angry. At the whole thing. At how unfair it is. But also at her. And my grandparents."

"Your grandparents?"

"They all died that day. Grandpa was the pilot. He and Grandma lived in Arizona. They'd fly in to visit us in LA, and sometimes, Mom would fly back with them to spend a few days together."

"Did you ever go with them?"

"Apparently. Dad says I did, but I can't remember a single flight. I must've blocked them all out."

His chin trembles. "And then I feel guilty. Guilty that I get angry at her. But more than that, guilty that I can barely remember anything about her now."

"You were a kid, Col."

"I know. But it feels like whatever few precious memories I have of her are fading more and more each year. What if one day, they all go? What then? Will her life have been for nothing?"

"It willneverbe for nothing. She lives on the way everyone does, through the people she created and the people she affected."

He huffs out a sigh. "Sometimes it feels like all I have left of her is my name."

"Your name?"

"Yeah. I once asked Dad about my name, where it came from. His name is Hig, so I thought maybe they chose Col to stick with the whole short name thing. But it turns out, Mom picked my name. Colwyn. Apparently it's Welsh and meansfrom the river.Mom's grandparents were Welsh, and she loved the water, so that's why she chose it."

"That's beautiful."

I smile. "It is. One memory I do still have is one afternoon when Mom, Dad, and I were out on a small boat somewhere, maybe a lake. I would've been about five. I remember the sunlight lighting up her brown hair, making it seem golden. She looked angelic."

"You'll always have that memory, Col. That'll never change."

"I guess. The other big thing is, well, I just feel so…unfinished."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm now a year older than she was when she died. She already had a kid by the time she was my age. What am I doing with my life? Apart from my career, what have I actually achieved? I've only just figured out I'm bi, and I've got a lifetime of unresolved issues I'm avoiding dealing with that will probably put my therapist's kids through college. I'm kind of a mess."

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm kind of a mess, too. Everyone I know is. One way or another."