Clearing his throat to speak, my father squeezed my hand. “She’s doing the best anyone can expect and Melissa has been with Mitchell’s brothers.”
I attempted to swallow but my throat was so dry. Gripping my father’s hand, I looked into his eyes. “Daddy,” was all I could manage to get out.
My father kissed my forehead and mumbled against my skin, “I love you, pumpkin.” Pulling back, he gave me a weak smile. “Let me go see what I can find out about how Mrs. Haus is doing.”
I watched as my father quickly walked out of the bedroom.
Grayson reached his hand over and pushed a piece of hair behind my ear as I closed my eyes. Mitchell’s face appeared and my eyes snapped back open. “Meg, Melissa is really worried about you. I told her I would call her when you woke up and let her know you’re okay.”
When I turned to look into Grayson’s blue eyes, I saw nothing but sadness. “I don’t know what to say, baby. I’m so sorry.”
“How did I fail him? What did I do wrong? How could I have missed this?”
Grayson blinked back tears as he shook his head. “Meagan, you didn’t do anything wrong, and you certainly didn’t fail him.”
A sob escaped as I whispered, “How can you say that? He killed himself because I couldn’t help him.”
“No,” Grayson whispered as he pressed his lips to the back of my hand.
Grayson moved to the bed and sat while he pulled me to him. My arms wrapped around him tightly. “Why, Gray? Why didn’t he talk to me about this?”
My body shook uncontrollably as I cried harder. “God, why did this happen?” I cried out as Grayson’s arms held me tighter.
My mind was filled with images of Mitchell. His smile. His laugh. The way he told me things were starting to look up for him.
My body felt numb and I couldn’t even imagine how Mitchell’s family was feeling. “I should have known. It was my job to make sure something like this didn’t happen. He must have felt so alone and in a place so dark he couldn’t find a way out. How did I miss that? Gray, how?”
Gripping onto Grayson’s shirt, I lost it as I buried my face into his chest.
Grayson
MY ARM WAS wrapped tightly around Meagan’s waist as we stood and listened to Mitchell’s eulogy. Meagan stared off with a distant look on her face as her father and mother stood on the other side of her.
Feeling Meagan’s body tremble, I pulled her closer to me. When the service was over, it was Meagan and Mrs. Haus who didn’t move.
“Meg? Do you need a few minutes alone?” I asked.
Snapping her head over to me, Meagan’s eyes filled with panic. “No. Please don’t leave me.”
Glancing over to Brad, his eyes met mine. With a quick nod, he and Amanda headed back to my truck.
Meagan had had this fear of me leaving her the last few days and it was beginning to worry both her parents, as well as me.
“Meagan?”
Mrs. Haus stood to the side of us as Meagan immediately wrapped Mitchell’s mother in her arms and told her how sorry she was.
Both women cried for a few minutes before Meagan took a few steps back. Mrs. Haus wiped her eyes and attempted to smile.
“I want you to know how much he cared for you. How much you helped him.”
Meagan’s lips trembled as she tried like hell to keep her composure. Wrapping her arms around her body, she nodded and said, “I cared about him so much and I’m so very sorry.”
With a quick nod of her head, Mrs. Haus placed her hands on Meagan’s arms. “I know. Um . . . Mitchell had written a few letters. One for me, Casey, his two brothers, and one for you.”
“W-what?” Meagan asked with a disbelieving voice.
Mrs. Haus wiped a tear away before reaching into her purse and pulling out an envelope. Running her fingers over her son’s handwriting, she handed the letter to Meagan. “I’m going to miss him so much. I can’t help feeling like this is my all my fault.”
Meagan’s posture lifted as she dropped her arms and took a step toward Mitchell’s mother. “No, you cannot think like that. Mitchell was in a darkness that he felt he couldn’t get out of. We all wish we had seen the signs. There won’t be a day that goes by where I won’t ask myself if there was something more I could have done or said, but you cannot blame yourself.”
“I moved him from California. If I had just stayed there, he would have been with his friends and he wouldn’t have had to . . . to . . .” Her hands covered her mouth as she broke down crying.
Meagan engulfed Mrs. Haus in a hug and repeated how sorry she was. A young gentleman about twenty finally walked up and took Mrs. Haus in his arms and led her to a car.
We stood there for a few more minutes watching them drive away before Meagan turned and looked into my eyes. The sadness that filled them gutted me. I searched internally for answers on how to ease her pain but I kept coming up with nothing.
Glancing down at the letter, Meagan swallowed hard as she stared at it. “It’s not always a good thing when those who have commited suicide leave notes.”
“Why?” I asked.