Page 17 of Hunt for the Roses
When I find it difficult to keep my composure, I put my head in my hands to try and gain some control back, and I feel Ronnie’s hand rubbing the outside of my arm in an up and down motion. Once I lift my head back up, I look at Ronnie. “Let’s go upstairs.”
Ronnie nods and starts walking toward the stairway as I follow his lead. He knows exactly where I want to go, and when he gets to the top of the stairs, he slowly opens the door to the bedroom. I take a moment before entering the room myself, and when I finally walk through the bedroom door, the first thing I notice is the bedding.
This is where Kyle and I made love.
I walk over to the bed and start to graze my fingertips against the duvet. I just want to feel something that Kyle once touched because somehow, it makes me feel closer to him. Like he’s still with me.
I turn back to Ronnie who’s leaning against the doorframe. “Where did you put his things?”
Ronnie clears his throat and points to the closet. “They’re in there if you want to take a look.”
I walk over to open the closet door, and find a brown box in the corner on the floor. I go to my knees and pick up the box flaps to find framed pictures, and some of Kyle’s clothes. The top picture is a photo of Kyle and I on our third date together. We went out to dinner at this Mexican restaurant where we discovered our love for peach-mango margaritas on the rocks. We’re clinking glasses in the picture, and we both have smiles on our faces that stretch from ear to ear. A tear slips out of my eye, no longer being able to fight the constraint.
I hold the picture to my heart and with my free hand, I pick up one of Kyle’s golf polos to hold it to my nose. When his scent invades my senses, another tear falls freely from my eye, and then another. I feel Ronnie come up behind me, and he bends down to grab my arm to help me get to my feet. Once Ronnie spins me around and tightly embraces me, I completely lose it as I sob uncontrollably in my brother’s arms, until I’ve exhausted all of my tears for the day.
* * *
~Five Months After~
It’s Sunday, and Kate has convinced me to go to brunch with her. I’m starting to care a little more about what I look like when I go out, so I decide to throw on a beige, ribbed long-sleeved crop top with mom jeans, and feelokayabout today. But like Dane said, “okay” is a relative term these days.
When I hear my phone buzz, I see a text from Kate letting me know she’s here, and I go downstairs to answer the door. When I open it, Kate greets me with a bag held out to me. “I brought you a doughnut. Can’t say that won’t put a smile on your face.”
I chuckle as I take the bag. “Thanks, you really didn’t have to.”
Kate shrugs. “I know. But I wanted to.” I just smile back at her, and then I’m grabbing my purse off the dining room table and heading out the door with Kate.
Luckily, we’re seated within ten minutes of putting our name in, and we scan the QR code on the table to look through the menu on our phones. After the waitress comes and takes our orders, Kate looks over to me. “So how’s work been?”
“It’s okay. Holiday vacations are approaching, which normally I would be stoked for.” I shrug before continuing. “But all it means is I have more free time for my mind to wander.”
Kate gives me a sympathetic look. “Those days off could be good for you, Ari. You know we’re all here for you, and we want to see you.”
I nod. “I know, I don’t doubt that. You guys have been great.” I look out the window next to our booth. “It’s just hard to be around you guys sometimes. And I’m not saying that to be mean, it’s just the truth, and I’m sorry.”
Kate nods in understanding, and when our waitress comes over with our lattes, we’re able to fill the awkward silence with sips of our drinks. I lick my lips after the first sip, and decide to be the first to resume our dialogue. After all, Kate’s really trying here. “I’m going to start therapy tomorrow.”
Kate’s eyes light up. “Ari, that’s great.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not really looking forward to it. My family is pushing it.”
“I think they’re pushing you in the right direction,” Kate says.
“I know.” I swallow a lump in my throat before continuing. “I know logically this could be a way for me to get my life back, but it all seems like it will be futile,” I respond.
“You don’t know that. I mean, you have to try, right?”
I give Kate a small smile. “Yeah. I’m going to try.”
* * *
Dr. Connelly sits across from me in her arm chair as she starts our first therapy session. “Talk to me about what you’re feeling.”
I’m sitting up straight on the couch as I play with my hands nervously. “Anger. Pain.”
“It’s a normal part of the grieving process. But the intensity of what you’re feeling will not always be this strong,” Dr. Connelly responds.
“Knowing these emotions are normal provides me no solace,” I say, frustration evident in my tone.
