Page 17 of Falling With You

I hadn’t been herein over a month. I probably should have come before this, but it wasn’t the easiest thing for me. Hell, itshouldn’tbe easy, and I guess that’s why I was here at all.

I lowered myself to the ground and set the single tulip on Allison’s grave.

“Sorry it took me so long to get here. Wasn’t sure what to say. What Ineededto say. Or even if you wanted me here.” I shrugged, knowing no one was around to listen to me, and hell, I didn’t even know if Allison could hear me.

Throughout my life, I’d thought a lot about death, mostly because it was something that I figured a lot of people did. At first, it had been because I was afraid I was going to die when I was a kid. Not because of some illness or sickness I couldn’t control, but because my mother was just that bad of a parent. I didn’t even know who my father was, only that I shared him with Cameron. I didn’t share my father with Dillon. No one knew who Dillon’s father was.

And then when I had gone into the foster system, for some reason, I had always thought death was lurking, just waiting to take me away. Maybe that was easier than trying to figure out how to grow up without a family or even a pillow to call your own.

I hadn’t thought about death as much when I moved in with Jack and Rose. When they took me in and called me a Connolly. When they did the same with my twin and then with Brendon.

It was easier to grow up thinking that maybe you were invincible when you actually had someone to rely on. When you figured out that perhaps someone would be there to kiss your wounds or take you to the hospital if you actually hurt yourself worse than just a scrape from a fall off your bike.

So, I hadn’t thought about death as much until I got older when I learned how to drive.

I thought about going too fast on curves, or what would happen if I accidentally went off a bridge.

Little things that were actually more commonplace than most people thought.

Just little instances in your life where you thought about death, and then you forgot about it because you were alive. You weren’t sick. You were whole.

I hadn’t really thought about death when I was in college, other than just trying not to make the mistake of accidentally hurting myself by drinking too much or driving too fast.

I had thought about death right at the end of my relationship with Allison, though.

Not because either of us was sick or because I’d thought I wanted to die.

Because we had held death between us.

And then I had moved on. I became an adult and learned how to be a real grownup that actually had to deal with a job and health insurance and a 401K.

I’d only thought about death in the abstract because it was something that came for all of us. I just figured it’d be when I was older. Because I had been lucky that I wasn’t sick. Lucky that I’d lived through all the things that could’ve taken someone out quickly.

I hadn’t thought about death again until I’d gotten the call that the first person I ever loved wasn’t here anymore.

“I hate the fact that I’m angry, Allison.” I swallowed hard and traced my finger across her name in the cold stone. I expected it to cut like a blade, not to feel smooth under my skin. “I’m always angry these days. And I hate the fact that I’m angry with you. You weren’t supposed to die, Allison. You were supposed to outlive all of us because you smiled. Because you were so damn happy about everything. But it’d been a while since I’d seen you, right? Maybe I was only thinking about the girl you had been. The girl I loved.”

I didn’t cry, but I did pinch the bridge of my nose, forcing the emotion back. I was too angry to think about anything else. Too upset to feel sad, to feel the overwhelming urge to just weep about the fact that Allison was gone.

No, I was too angry for that.

“I don’t know why you had to do that. I wish I knew the answer. I wish I knew why or would’ve seen it. I wish I would’ve actually been in your life more than I was. But I wasn’t there. And I’m not asshole enough to think I would’ve been able to stop it. I don’t know why you did it, Allison. And I hate myself more every day for the fact that I wasn’t there.”

I shook my head and let my eyes close, the sun warm on my face.

“That makes me a selfish asshole, doesn’t it? Because what you did had nothing to do with me. We had nothing to do with each other for long enough that I don’t even know why you did it. But your friends don’t either, Allison. I look at Violet, Sienna, and Harmony. I look at them, and I see the same confusion that I have. And I hate the fact that we don’t have answers. And that we might not ever. But maybe that’s on us. Maybe we should’ve been able to see.” I let out a shaky breath and opened my eyes, trailing my fingers across her name again.

“I hope you’re with her.” I whispered the words, this time my throat closing as I forced myself not to cry. “I hope to God that isn’t why you’re here. But…I just hope you’re with her. I loved you, Allison. I still do. And I hate the fact that you’re gone. And sometimes…sometimes, I just hate the fact that I’m here.”

I wiped away the fallen leaves and stray pieces of grass that dared to venture onto the new mound of soil that was Allison’s grave and just tried to soak in the sun. I tried not to feel the overwhelming sense that I was doing something wrong.

My hand hurt, even though it was healing, and everything else hurt just because I wasn’t sleeping enough and wasn’t doing anything that was normally on my schedule.

I really hated the fact that Allison was here. I remembered once when we were talking about what we wanted if one of us died, long before we had thought it’d be an issue. But we each talked about cremation and having our ashes thrown to the wind. Maybe in a place that we both loved, or somewhere that one of us wanted to visit. Just somewhere. But she hadn’t made a will—none of us had. And her parents had done what they thought was best.

That meant no organ donation and no cremation. She’d been buried in a dress to match her eyes. Eyes that would never be open again. And now, she was here, taking up space.

Her words, not mine. Because I never thought Allison could take up space. Not in any way. But what did I know? I was just the guy who had once loved her. The guy who still loved her, only not in the same way that I had when we were in love.