Page 180 of The Secret We Keep
I take a seat on the worn-out bench in the bus stop, closing my eyes and wishing I could go back in time. Replaying every moment we’ve shared, I’m struck without warning, an avalanche of sorrow tumbling over me, squeezing whatever hope I had left that I’d find her and wringing it dry.
I pushed her too hard. I forced her to face this.
It was the right thing to do. She had to know.
But to what end? None of this feels right.
Looking down at the soaking wet image, I stand, sucking in a breath of strength. Mentally, I’m drained. Emotionally, I’m exhausted. I drop the picture on the floor as I step out of the bus shelter, a silent scream lodging in my throat when I look up through the rain, towards the graveyard opposite.
Taking a few moments to register what I’m seeing, the rain smacks my face violently, making it hard to see clearly.
“No,” I rush out, blood turning to ice, tears stinging like shards of glass. “God, no.”
I run to the gate, flinging it open, feeling more scared with every step. My heart shatters, my worst nightmare unfolding before my eyes.
Rotten flowers and a river of water drift along the path towards my feet, the sudden downpour causing a flood. The trees shake in the wind, which is picking up, and the howl as it whips around the graves leaves an unsettling, terrifying shudder to race down my spine.
Curled in the foetal position, lying next to the grave that I know belongs to Holly, lies my girlfriend, drenched and visibly shaking in the rain.
My heart all but stops, crumbling into a million pieces.
“Morgan.” I race to her, battling with my inner turmoil, falling to my knees at her side. “Morgan, baby.” Pulling her into my arms, wet strands of her hair cling to her cheeks. I brush them off, feeling her skin frozen. “Can you hear me, curly fries?”
She attempts to open her eyes.
I tear my jacket off, wrapping it around her and rubbing her arms to get some warmth into her.
Her voice is strangled. “Paddy?”
Thick tears streak down my face, mixing with the rain. “I’m here, Morgan.”
“Paddy?” she cries, more aware of her surroundings.
I wipe the water from my eyes. “It’s me. I’ve got you. I’m right here.” My arms curl around her, pulling her body closer to mine.
Her body jerks in my hold. Her voice weak and desolate when she speaks. “She’s gone. She’s really gone, Paddy.”
Despair for the girl I love crushes me like a vice. “I know, baby. I’m so sorry.”
Morgan lets out an agonised, painful wail. Her scream rattles me to my core. But I don’t let her go. Iwon’tlet her go.
“I’m going to make sure you’re okay, Morgan. I promise you.”
“Paddy,” she chokes, her fingers digging into my skin, her face pressing into my chest. “She’s dead.”
I rock her in my arms, pressing my lips to her head. “I know,” I answer painfully.
“And her grave. I knew it was here,” she continues, desperately catching her breath. “I don’t know how, but I started walking and… and I found her. I knew where she was, Paddy.”
Walking through the graveyard every day started out as an accident. But she never saw the grave. Never looked at the same gravestone I read over and over, again and again, day in and day out. I willed Holly’s spirit to help Morgan see. I prayed she release her friend from the clutches of her loss.
“She didn’t text me back. I read the messages again, and,” her breath gets caught, “and shenevermessaged me back.”
Unable to stop my own voice breaking, I kiss her repeatedly. “It’s okay, baby. You’re going to be okay.”Fuck.My fucking heart strains, unable to put an end to the pain Morgan’s going through.
“Don’t leave me, Paddy.” Her hold on me turns panicked. “Please, don’t leave me.”
Hearing my dad’s car on the other side of the road, and the subsequent calling of my name, I know I have to get her out of here. Managing to stand to my feet, I cradle her in my arms all the way to the gate.
