Never Far Away (The Never #2)(77)
“We were both still young but perhaps that made it all the more exciting. He was my first everything, my only everything,” Tilly said with a hitch in her voice that brought the stinging of tears to Ella’s eyes. She reached out and laid her hand gently on Tilly’s, hoping to offer some comfort to a woman simply missing the man she loved. Tilly squeezed her hand and offered a small smile. She took a deep breath and then continued, seeming to push through the sadness.
“We married three years later and a few years after that Porter came along.” A new smile filled with pride graced her face and Ella couldn’t help but mirror it, having her own sense of pride in him. “He was such a good father: patient, loving, fun, firm. He loved Porter so much and wanted to teach him how to be a good man, how to be hardworking, and to have integrity.”
“I think he did a wonderful job of instilling all of those traits in Porter,” Ella offered. “And I think you did a wonderful job of raising him alone too. It must have been so hard…” Ella’s voice trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence, not sure she had to words to describe the loss Tilly had gone through.
“One day you’ll understand the love a mother feels for her child,” Tilly said turning her head towards the ocean, looking out over the seemingly calm waters of the harbor. “I was shattered when Andrew died, absolutely broken. Nothing could have prepared me for how it was going to feel knowing I would never speak to my husband again. Never hold his hand or kiss his lips. Never wake up next to him, never argue with him, never get excited when he came home again. So many things would never happen that should have happened. But not one ounce of my sadness mattered when I looked at my son who had lost his father.” Ella saw a tear slip from the corner of Tilly’s eye and she felt a knot forming in her own throat.
“Porter was at a very strange age when his father died. Twelve is old enough to understand death and how it works, but still young enough to have childlike thoughts about it. He was still a boy, trying to become a man. He took his father’s death very hard,” she almost whispered.
“Andrew had been driving to one of Porter’s baseball games when that logging truck overturned onto his car. He tried to never miss a game, knew how important it was for Porter to see him in the stands, cheering him on, supporting him. The first words out of his mouth after I had told him what happened were, ‘This never would have happened if he hadn’t been on his way to my game’.”
Ella’s heart broke for the child who internalized blame for something so tragic and it broke for the woman who was sitting in front of her, full tears streaming down her face, still hurting twenty years later. Ella tried hard not to let her emotions get the best of her, feeling like Tilly needed someone to be strong for her in that moment, but her throat was stinging painfully with cries aching to get out. Tears welled in her eyes, but she was able, for the moment, to keep them at bay and just continued to rub and squeeze Tilly’s hand on the table.
“He’s always carried around the blame for his father’s death, no matter how many times I tried to tell him it wasn’t his fault. Even two of years seeing a child psychologist could never fully ease his mind that he wasn’t responsible for the death of his father. It’s something he’ll carry around with him forever, I’m afraid.” Tilly looked at Ella again. “When you were hurt, the first thing he did was blame himself. So many things he could have done differently, according to him, that would have altered the course of things, changed the outcome. It was just like when Andrew died all over again, only maybe a little worse because you were still out there somewhere and that made it all that much worse for him.
“I know I’ve told you this before briefly, but what he went through when you didn’t remember him, it was terrible. I’m not trying to make you feel badly about it, because Lord knows you were the biggest victim of the whole debacle, but he was so sad, Ella. So… fractured. You can’t ever question how much he loves you, ever, Ella. Promise me that. He loves you so much that the thought of being without you nearly destroyed him, quite possibly could have ended him for all the sadness that he was drowning in.”
The tears she’d been holding in finally broke free and Ella pressed a hand to her chest to try and alleviate any of the pressure she felt building there. Everything felt wrong. The sun was shining but the darkness was taking over. Her skin was warm but she was chilled to the bone. “Blame and guilt are two things both Porter and I are very good at,” Ella said, using her napkin to wipe away some of her tears, even though more were following. “I hate that he feels like he’s to blame for anything that happened to me, but I understand it because I feel it too. I’ve got my own collection of “what ifs” that I replay in my head over and over, trying to make sense of what happened to us. But it’s useless because nothing changes the fact that it happened.”
Ella thought about all the ways that he was fueled by the blame he placed on himself. He internalized every feeling he had, analyzing it endlessly before opening up about it. He felt responsible for every bad thing that had happened between them, using that as a catalyst to wallow at times in the guilt. Ella shook her head a little at the helplessness she felt when she thought about Porter and the sadness that sometimes permeated him. But as soon as she thought about his sadness, she was forced to think about his happiness too. The guilt and blame also made him the possessive and protective man she’d come to love and appreciate. He would do anything to shield her from harm and even though she wished it sprouted from something else, she couldn’t hate the passion and depth with which he loved her.