Page 89 of Life After You

"You feel real,"I choke out, fisting the fabric of his shirt, terrified that if I let go, he’ll disappear. That this will end.

Braden exhales, a familiar, exasperated sound, then gently pries the daisy from my fingers, twirling it between his own.

"I can’t believe you’re gonna make me say the cliché shit, little sis."His voice is soft, but there’s a weight to it. A sadness."You can’t be here, Mac."

The words land like ice water, stealing the warmth from my bones.

I shake my head, my pulse thundering in my ears."What do you mean? I don’t understand—"

"Wait, now you’re doing cliché responses too? My little sister, the NPC,"he teases, shaking his head. But the humor is forced. Hollow."You shouldn’t be here… with me."

A voice drifts on the wind, calling my name. Desperate.Familiar.

I stiffen, glancing around, but there’s nothing.

Fear curls around me, looking for a way in.

"Braden, what’s happening?"I reach for his hand, gripping tight, begging him to explain.

His gaze darkens with sorrow."Eugh. This feels like a script. Like we’ve rehearsed it. You know who that is, Maccy-moo."

The nickname hits me like a punch to the chest.

"He can’t be without you."

"Who?"

Agony explodes behind my eyes, and I crumple, a strangled cry tearing from my throat. The meadow warps, rippling like disturbed water. I clutch my head, the pain unbearable.

Braden kneels beside me, his hand firm on my back."Fuck. I gotta say it."He makes a face, like the words physically pain him."It’s not your time."

Tears spill down my cheeks as I reach for him, my grip weak."Please… I want to stay. I want to be with you."My voice fractures under the weight of my grief.God, I’ve missed him.

Braden’s fingers tighten around mine, grounding me. Slowly, he pulls me to my feet, guiding me toward the gate. The pain intensifies, and I stumble, my free hand catching on the rough wood. My fingertips brush over a heart carved deep into the grain.

The voice calls again. Louder. More desperate.

Panic flares in my chest."Braden, I—"

"Head injuries, eh?"His voice is wry, but his eyes are filled with sorrow.

A face flashes through my mind. Dark, messy hair. Electric-blue eyes. A lopsided, charming smile.

My heart clenches.

"Logan."

Braden presses the daisy back into my hand."That’s the one. Also, when I said, ‘Over my dead body’ and all that… I appreciate it. It would’ve been gross. But you have my blessing, six minutes twenty-two."

My breath catches."No—no, you can’t go."

Braden smiles, gentle, teasing."You’ll get here when you get here. Hopefully old and wrinkly, so I can make fun of you, alright?"He leans in, pressing a kiss to my temple.

I choke on a sob as the world around me turns blindingly bright.

The meadow dissolves into nothingness.

His voice is the last thing I hear.

---