Page 8 of Awestruck at Dusk
“Okay.” I inserted my fingers in the incision and gripped each side firmly. With eyes closed, I pulled at my sweater while tears flowed from them like two open faucets. My healing wrist hurt like hell when pulling on the fabric, but I didn’t care.
Aaron began reciting the blessing as I kept pulling on the small tear, slashing it open, feeling how every thread and fiber popped under my fingers. My jaw locked, and my teeth ground against each other.
I pulled so hard at one point that I ripped the sweater open almost completely. I directed my gaze toward Aaron and hugged him again, my wrist protesting with pain. But that ache was nothing compared to the grief that ravaged me.
“Thank you.”
Aaron took a step back and walked toward Caleb’s coffin.
“It’s time to go,” he said.
I followed him and helped him close the casket just after taking one last look at Caleb. I placed my hand on it and closed my eyes for a second.
“I love you, Caleb,” I whispered to him. “I promise, okay?”
I promised to be true to my heart, just as he always had been—like he always had encouraged me to be. I vowed to trust my gut and stop ignoring my feelings.
Aaron led the way out after I was done saying goodbye and opened the door for me.
“Caleb, he”—Aaron pulled an envelope out of his pants pocket—“wanted you to have this.” I took the envelope and pressed it in between my palms.
“He gave this to me back in September when you two—ended things,” he explained. “He said if something ever happened to him, he wanted you to have this.” Aaron laughed the softest laugh ever and handed the letter over to me. “I don’t think he thought I’d ever give this to you.” He paused for a second with shuttered eyelids and pressed his lips as if wanting to seal them shut. He finally took a deep breath and said, “I didn’t either.”
“Thank you. And—take care of him for me,” I pleaded, placing the letter in the back pocket of my black skinny jeans. I’d left my bag in the car.
“You can count on it.” He nodded and hugged me one last time before I shut the door behind me.
Nathan waited for me just outside the door. He took my hand as Mr. Waldman led the way out. My father was outside talking on his phone. Nathan and I thanked Mr. Waldman and waited for my father to be done with his call before leaving.
“Are you okay?” Nathan asked, glimpsing down at my torn sweater.
“I ah—yes,” I said, looking away. “It’s a Jewish custom to deal with grief.”
I’d been standing on the edge of a cliff all day, falling over and over. And every time I did, I would stand up and climb back to the top, looking down at the abyss again—ready to launch myself once more—an endless loop.
But how to break the cycle?
“Would you steal me away and take me to Tel Aviv?” I asked Nathan, looking over my shoulder. I wouldn’t want my father to overhear our conversation. “I want to meet Caleb’s family and tell them how sorry I am about everything. I need to be there during his funeral.”
I didn’t care about the consequences. I could deal with my father later. And if he locked me up in my apartment for life afterward, then it would’ve been worth it.
I’d rather beg for forgiveness than beg for permission.
“I know, love. I wish you could meet Caleb’s family too,” he replied with a melodic voice. He didn’t think I was serious.
“I mean it, Nathan,” I said, taking a few safe steps away from where my father stood. “We could fly out tomorrow morning and stay there for a couple of days and come back. It’s spring break, so it’s perfect. That way I won’t skip any classes. We can be back on Tuesday. I’m sure you can take two days off and work remotely. Aaron will be there, too.”
Nathan stared at me with a poker face while I explained my plan to him.
“Please?”
“Bloody hell, you’reactuallyasking me to take you to Tel Aviv?” he replied with a panicked expression on his face. “I-I can’t, love. Your father … he’ll kill me if I take you. He’ll never trust me again.”
I shook my head and looked down at my feet, feeling completely defeated. Helpless. A cold slap in the face to remind me that I’m being held back against my will with rose gold chains. Nathan cared too much about my father’s opinion, and he would never doa thingto fall from his good graces.
As I realized that, I panicked. I needed Nathan to be willing to take chances for me. To be my partner in crime and rebel with me. If only a little. Although, I knew what I had asked of him was a lot.
But no.
