Today, I would bury Ethan, our past, and our future. The thought robbed me of breath, and my eyes began to water.
The door opened, distracting me, and Carlos slid in behind the wheel. While he went through his pre driving checklist, the first two vehicles pulled out of the driveway. We followed at a distance. It was a quiet ride. My thoughts whirled around what-ifs and should-haves. Regret burned my stomach, and grief ate a hole through my chest. It hurt to breathe.
The ride didn’t take long. We pulled into the empty parking lot of a funeral home. As soon as I stepped from the car, I felt disconnected from reality. The wind brushed my hair aside as I walked toward the building, but I couldn’t feel the temperature of it.
Carlos held the door for me. The smell of potpourri greeted me as I stepped inside.
I kept walking down the hall then turned into the open parlor on the right. A coffin waited at the front of the large room. There were only a few chairs before it, the sum of Ethan’s life. Like a sleepwalker, I moved forward.
He lay as if sleeping, his serene face powdered with life-like color. I stepped up onto the platform with him and laid my hand over his stomach. How could someone do this to him? Silence him? Ethan brought laughter. Ethan was life.
I was angry, hurt, confused, and alone. I needed someone to talk to, someone to help me through the chaotic thoughts in my head. But whenever I’d had a problem, I’d always talked it out with Ethan. And Ethan wasn’t there anymore.
“How do I live with this much anger?” I said softly.
“You learn to lock it away,” Carlos said beside me.
I hadn’t even realized he’d stayed with me.
“It doesn’t ever leave, but the wall you build around it grows thicker with time, making it harder for you to reach the anger.”
“Why would I want to reach it?”
“Because it helps you remember.”
I turned to study Carlos. His steady brown gaze held me. He knew the pain that currently devoured me from the inside. How could I have ever teased that he was a robot? No one who felt this much ever could be.
“Will I ever feel happy again?”
“I hope so.”
I looked away and stared at Ethan. Who was Isabelle without Ethan? I had no idea. I’d barely known myself when I’d still had Ethan. A bleak, questionable future lay before me, and I didn’t want to face it without him.
I didn’t stay long. I just needed to say goodbye and try to memorize his face one last time. Then, I turned away.
They all faced me, a loose group of people I’d met only days ago.
“They will do a short service in an hour,” Charlene said.
I didn’t want to stay for that. Ethan wouldn’t want me to, either.
“Did you arrange all of this?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Thank you. Where will he be buried?”
“The local cemetery.”
“A headstone?” When this was over, I wanted to be able to find him again.
“Of course.”
I nodded, then walked to the exit.
Ten
We pulled into the driveway. While the rest got out of their cars and went toward the house, I got out and started walking toward the fields. A void silently followed me.
I walked until I reached the center of the area then stopped.
All I wanted to do was cry. I was the lonely kid back on the playground. I needed to do what Carlos said, and I tried to lock away what I felt. However, indifference was like trying to wear a toddler’s coat. It didn’t fit me, and I doubted it ever would. Yet, I continued to try to push away thoughts of Ethan. Then, I realized I had very little else to think about. I had no job, no friend, and a family barely coherent enough to remember my name.
How did a person pick up the pieces of who they were after being so thoroughly shattered? I decided they didn’t. They sweep the old pieces of who they were away, and they rebuild themselves into who they need to be.
Those creatures killed the nice girl in me when they killed Ethan. These people, Bethi, Charlene, Michelle, Gabby, they needed me to be their fighter because, with the exception of Bethi, they couldn’t fight for themselves. They would end up just like Ethan.
After several moments, Carlos came to stand beside me.
“Do you need to spar?” he asked softly.
“No.”
Whether I needed to or not didn’t matter. I couldn’t spar. Carlos still wore the bruises from facing me. What if more of those other werewolves came right now? Had I damaged Carlos like I had Ethan? I pushed the scary thoughts away and looked out over the field.
“Just avoiding the pity party in the house.”
It was something I would have said before I’d lost everything. But now, the words felt wrong. No, I felt wrong.
Carlos seemed to notice, too, because he moved closer.
“Tell me what you need,” he said.
I closed my eyes against the pain. What I needed was Ethan, but that wasn’t going to happen. I needed to face reality. But telling Carlos about either of those needs wouldn’t help them come true.
“I’m tired.” I wasn’t. I just wanted to go back to the house and shut myself into my room again.