Bring Me Back(28)

“It’s not fair,” I sob into my friends’ shoulders.

I’ve never been one to use those words before. It’s not fair. But that’s the way I feel. It’s not fair that Ben’s time on Earth got cut short. It’s not fair that I’m not walking down the aisle to him next week like I should be. It’s not fair that I’ll never have his baby. It’s not fair that I’ll never grow old with him. It all f*cking sucks.

“It’s okay to be mad,” Chloe says. “You have every right.”

I sniffle. Sometimes I feel like it’s wrong that I’m so angry. Angry at myself. At the world. At Ben. I hate myself for being angry at him. It’s not like he chose to die, but I’m angry anyway. I know it’s part of grief, but I don’t like it. I’d rather feel sad than angry.

“You’ll be okay,” Hannah sniffles. “We’re here for you.”

I nod. I know they are even if I haven’t let them be. “I love you guys,” I tell them. I’m lucky to have such amazing friends. I’ve ignored their calls and texts the last few weeks but they still wanted to have lunch, and if it wasn’t for my dad I wouldn’t be here. I’ll have to remember to thank him later. I needed this.

We separate and sit back. I won’t lie, it hurts seeing the empty chair that Ben used to sit in, but for now I ignore the pain in my chest.

“Tell me something, anything,” I plead.

“I’m all moved into my new place,” Hannah says with a semi-happy smile. I wince, but she doesn’t notice. Ben was supposed to help her move. “You should come by and see it, I think you’d love it. My neighbor is a bit … annoying, though.” She shudders. “Cyrus. He’s constantly throwing parties and he’s kind of a jerk, but a hot jerk.”

Chloe perks up with interest. “How hot? Like on a scale of one to ten.”

“Twelve,” she says. “Maybe more.”

Chloe fans herself. “Oh, girl, please tell me you’re going to try to get under him.”

Hannah’s eyes widen. “Um, no, I hadn’t really thought about that.”

Chloe shakes her head. “I will never understand you. You’re hot, Hannah, in that nerdy-cute kind of way. Guys dig that. Embrace it. Get some lovin’.”

Hannah wiggles uncomfortably in her seat. “Yeah, no thanks.”

Casey wraps her hands around her coffee mug. The dark liquid is probably cold by now, but she sips at it anyway. “I broke up with James.” We all grow quiet. “What?” She looks at each of us and waves a hand. “You guys knew it was bound to happen. Sooner’s better than later, right?”

“Well, yeah,” I say slowly, “but how are you feeling about it?”

“Fine.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal. “It’s not important.” When we all continue to stare at each other, she huffs. “You all knew it wasn’t going anywhere with us—in fact, you’ve all on more than one occasion urged me to break up with him, so what’s the big deal?”

“You didn’t say anything,” Chloe says softly.

“I didn’t think I should, not with …” she trails off, but I already know what she was going to say.

Not with Ben gone.

“It’s okay,” I tell her. “My life is on pause, but I know no one else’s is. Please don’t treat me like broken glass. It only makes this harder for me.”

Casey nods. “I’m sorry, I should have said something, but it only happened a week ago and it’s not like we’ve all been able to get together.”

I know her excuse is a feeble one, but I don’t bother calling her on it. I don’t have the energy. I take a few bites of my sandwich for manners sake, and push away from the table.

“Well, it was good seeing you guys, but I need to go.” I stand up from the table.

They take turns hugging me and say goodbye.

As promised, my mom and dad are still waiting outside in the car.

“How’d it go, Kid?” my dad asks when I slide into the back and begin buckling my seatbelt.

“Surprisingly well,” I answer.

He smiles in the rearview mirror. “Good. Here’s that sticker.”

I actually laugh when he passes back a gold star sticker. “Thanks, Dad,” I say and stick it on my shirt.

He smiles and nods. He’s pleased, and I’m happy that he’s happy. My mom looks happy too. I know I’ve scared her the last few weeks. It’s been hard adjusting to life without Ben and I know this isn’t even the half of it. The storm is only beginning.





“I can’t find my pen,” I shout at no one in particular. I’m in my office trying to catch up on work and my mountain of emails is out of control. I’m so overwhelmed, and this is just adding to my stress. I can’t take much more. I’m losing my mind.

“What’s wrong?” my mom asks, standing in the doorway of my office.

“I can’t find my mother-f*cking pen,” I yell, slamming my hands on my desk.

“Blaire—” I begin to sob. “Blaire,” she says again, taking a hesitant step into my office. “What’s really going on?”

I cover my face with my hands and wail. I’m pretty sure this is my soul crying. I never knew that was a thing until today. I can’t believe my mom hasn’t figured out what today is.