My eyes burn, and a single tear falls onto the pillow. Being so emotional is much more taxing than being a medicated zombie.
“You’re leaving me again?” My words come out stuttered and weak. I don’t want him to know how much I missed him—how much I miss him even though he’s right there—but the fact that he returns the sentiment and suffers like I am makes me feel slightly better.
“Not tonight.” He hugs me tighter, and I wrap my hands around his arm reassuring myself that he’s real. “Tonight, it’s just you and me. I’m so proud of you, my love. You have come so far.”
For once, I can’t help thinking that I’m proud of myself too.
Chapter twelve
Lilith
I was hoping that Letum lied to me and he wouldn’t leave me like he said he would. It was wishful thinking, but as far as I can tell, he has never told me a single lie.
It has been three months since I’ve seen him. However, I wake up every day and find a flower lying on the pillow next to me. It’s a different type of the same flower each time: Asiatic lily, oriental lily, calla lily, daylily, madonna lily, tiger lily. I must say I’ve become an expert on all things lilies now, and I try to keep each flower alive as long as possible. I would much rather find him next to me or at least a note. I miss seeing his cursive writing and the combination of fear and excitement that hits me whenever I’d see one of his letters.
He’s letting me travel this path alone, but he’s constantly reminding me that he’s a step behind me to stop me from falling over the edge of the cliff. Only now, his form of support isn’t just solely emotional.
He may be death, but he’s doing a lot to keep me alive.
A month ago, one of the floorboards lifted, and I kept tripping over it. Then, one day it was like it never even happened. Two weeks ago, I had some kind of infection, so Letum left antibiotics. Three days ago, I drove to work on a flat tire because I couldn’t afford to miss my shift. After work, I found the wheel as good as new. The kitchen stool with the missing screw can now be safely sat on without risk of injury. Not to mention that the damage caused to my bathroom was repaired when I woke up in an empty bed the next day.
I’ve been back to see Dahlia and my parents almost every day. It’s rather depressing that my closest friend is a corpse that can’t talk back. Still, I like to imagine she’s there sitting next to me, judging me, but loving me all the same.
I even visited Evan’s gravesite. Though I didn’t have many words for him, except the three that mattered: I forgive you.
I used to think that I was sorry, that I should have apologized to him for the situation we ended up in.
If Letum taught me anything, it is that there are two people in almost every relationship. Even if they’re polar opposites, it’ll work if they truly want it to work.
Maybe Evan did want it to work. Maybe I did too. We were so caught up in trying to pick up our own broken pieces that we didn’t realize some of our shards were in the other person’s hands. But everytime we shatter, we’re bound to lose pieces. We forgot that we’d worked faster if we put the pieces back together as a team. Instead, Letum has been the one nudging me whenever a piece has gone astray. He’s the one keeping me afloat on a sinking ship.
This time, I’ll do what’s right and put in the effort.
I pull my phone out of my bag—my new bag from Letum—then close my locker behind me and begin to type.
Me: I had a thought today (surprising, I know). If I had to guess, you’d order a short black coffee. And every few weeks you’ll add sugar just to keep things interesting.
Me: Also, I’m not sure if you saw it this morning. I drove past a border collie that looked exactly like the puppy I had as a teenager. He had two different colored eyes, one black, and one blue. Rafe never listened to any order unless you had a treat.
Our message thread is full of green bubbles and not a single gray response. It seems like all my communications nowadays are one-sided and are related to the dead.
Brit pulls the chair out and slumps down onto it, defeat written all over her. The cafe has been understaffed for the past two weeks with practically everyone out sick. So we’ve both been working extra hours, which is good, because it means I don’t need to rely on Letum leaving me cash in my bag—though it hasn’t stopped him from spoiling me.
“Christ,” she groans. “I’m going to need to see a fucking chiropractor for all the weight I’m pulling here.”
I huff, and my lips pull up in a half smile. “Ask the big boss instead. He seems to be good at walking all over you.”
She gasps. “Lili! Did you just use humor?”
I almost slipped into an easy grin. “It’s payment for having an open bar last night.”
Letum’s rather aggressive shove to get me onto my feet was like getting water poured on my face to wake up in the morning: it feels like shit, but you’re definitely awake now.
I’ve stopped mourning the girl that I once was and everything in my life that came before the accident. I won’t say I’ve healed, but I’m on the path to recovery, and I think that’s what really matters.
Hell, I even left my house to socialize last night for the first time in almost two years. It’s a milestone, even if all I did was sit there and listen to everyone else talk.
Even after everything, I still can’t shake the feeling that I’m missing something. Someone. I happened to text Letum in great detail about last night after I had one too many glasses of wine. Not much of my message was comprehensible, but he must have understood what I was saying because when I got home there was a sandwich on the counter, toothpaste on my toothbrush, a glass of water next to my bed, and an extra lily on my pillow.
I’m trying to remind myself that actions speak louder than words, but it’s hard to think that when I haven’t heard a single word from him.
Even though life is finally shaping up, it doesn’t feel like this is the right life for me. I’m not just meaning life in a cafe or this city. Something deeper and more intrinsic that I don’t have the necessary words to explain.
“Honestly, I don’t know how you’re even upright today,” Brit grumbles.
The truth is, I’ve had a little more energy every day. I’m not sure if I can owe it to the lack of medication or the fact that I’m not crying myself to sleep anymore.
“I stayed away from the tequila,” I point out.
The door to the cafe swings open, and my coworker sticks his head around with a frantic yet unimpressed look. “Brit, there’s a lady that wants to speak to you about the taste of her scone.”
She groans into her hands and looks up at me with her bloodshot eyes. “If you hear screaming, don’t call the police.”
I nod and grin. “Noted.”
Chapter thirteen
Lilith
I grab my phone as I walk to my apartment the next day and see the last two texts that I sent him during my lunch break, still unanswered.
Me: There’s a candlelit piano concert coming to town that I think you might like.
Me: I saw a dress online, and the concert would be the perfect occasion to wear it. I’m just not sure whether to get it in forest green or sage green.
Maybe it is a bit pathetic that I’m texting someone who isn’t texting back, especially when the texts are so mundane. But it makes me feel like I’m connected to him, even though I’m certain he’s still watching my every move.
Me: I’m going to make spaghetti aglio e olio for dinner if you’d like to join. I can’t promise it will taste as good as what you make, but nothing is wrong with striving for ‘edible’.
I let out a half laugh as I sent the latest text. He’s never taken me up on my offer but I haven’t given up trying. Honestly, he probably already knows that I am going to make the dish when I bought all of the ingredients for it yesterday.