Page 16 of Hunt for the Roses
I miss our nights at Shippers.
I miss our nights at the beach.
I miss us.
All of us.
I lean back against the wooden bench, propping one foot up on the small table in front of me, and run my fingers through my hair as I sigh. I start to feel guilty for wallowing in my own sadness when I know my sorrow pales in comparison to Aria’s.
Aria.
I haven’t seen or spoken to her in a month since we tried to take her out to Shippers, and I find myself thinking about her when I have a free moment. I think about how Aria is, what she’s doing, and how she’s learning to cope. It still feels like some horrible nightmare we’re all going to wake up from, and just brush off in the morning. But that morning never comes. The sun never rises in this situation. There’s been a dark cloud hovering over my life for the past three months, and I can’t seem to run fast enough to escape the rain.
I wonder if I ever will.
I inhale a breath as I take out my phone from my jogger sweatpants pocket, and go to Aria’s contact information to compose a message.
Me: Hey, I’m still here if you need anything.
I usually send her a few texts a month just to check in. My texts pretty much always say the same thing, they’re just paraphrased. To be honest, I dread sending these texts to Aria because I know there’s nothing I can say in a situation like this to alleviate her pain. It feels pointless and uncomfortable, but deep in my heart, I know it’s the right thing to do.
Kyle was my best friend. I know how much he loved this girl, and I know how much she loved him, and I feel this is my way of honoring Kyle in his wake. Making sure the person he loved and adored the most is going to be okay is reason enough for me to send these texts to Aria. No matter how dreadful they might be.
Ari: Hey, how have you been? I appreciate you reaching out.
I narrow my eyes as I momentarily focus on the fact that Aria asks me how I’ve been. I didn’t even ask her how she’s been. Here she is grieving over losing the love of her life, and she’s asking me how I am. See what I mean? These texting conversations are always awful.
Me: I’m okay. But “okay” is a relative term these days. How are you doing?
Ari: I’m getting by. I try to keep myself occupied.
Me: Well, I meant what I said earlier. Anything you need, just let me know. I’m here.
Ari: Means a lot. Thanks, Dane.
Me: Anytime.
And that’s the end of our conversation. I blow out a breath as I sink back into my patio bench, staring at the dark, lonely street that reflects exactly how I feel.
~Four Months After~
It’s Saturday afternoon when Ronnie and I pull up to mine and Kyle’s townhouse. I decided today would be the day that I fully face reality, and I start to tackle my struggles head on. But I couldn’t do it alone, so I asked Ronnie to come with me. I let out a long, nervous breath as we step out of his car, and I look over at my front porch.
It appears the same, but somehowdifferent.
Ronnie turns to look at me. “You okay?” I nod when I look back at him, but I’m honestly not sure if I am.
Ronnie is in front of me as we walk up the porch steps, and when he opens the door to my townhouse, I walk inside the foyer first. Although it’s a bright and sunny day, there is not one ray of sunlight that seeps through the windows. At least I can’t notice because the gloominess that’s resided in this house for so long remains prominent, and as I look around, the walls and shelves are stripped of any photos of Kyle and I.
This house looks exactly like my heart.
Empty and broken.
I knew that Ronnie and my father had cleared the house of pictures of Kyle and I, and they packed up whatever possessions Kyle’s parents didn’t take. I told my brother and dad I couldn’t stand to put Kyle’s stuff away because it was just too big a burden to bear, so they took that burden off of me. As grateful as I am for that, looking at my former home makes me feel lonelier than ever before.
Ronnie comes next to me and brings me in for a side-hug with one arm, and tears threaten to leave my eyes. “You’re going to be okay. I’m here,” Ronnie assures me.
I just nod, and then continue to walk cautiously around the living room and kitchen. Memories start pouring into my mind like a waterfall. Kyle and I cuddling on the couch, making dinner together, wrestling each other for the remote in the living room, playing board games on the coffee table while sipping on delicious red wine.
