Ends Here (Road to Nowhere #2)

“If that were the case, all of you would have to stop looking at me or talking to me,” I blurted, regretting my words immediately. Causing her to jerk back and let go. “I’m sorry, Momma, that wasn’t fair.”


“I know...” she paused taking a deep breath, her eyes welling up with tears. “It’s only been a week since you were discharged from the hospital. This whole situation is new for all of us. We are learning together how to cope. I look at you and see my daughter, the Mia I remember... the happy little spitfire, the one I know will come back to us. It’s just going to take some time. I’m doing the best I can as your mother to protect you, help you get over this hurdle life pushed in your path. We need to take this one day at a time, sweetheart. I’m just so thankful you’re home.” She pulled me into a tight hug. “I love you, baby. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

She whispered all sorts of reassuring things to me before we left my bedroom together. I barely remember any of it, choosing to tune her out. It was easier than pretending to be someone I no longer was. My dad was waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs, taking me into his arms when we reached him. Holding onto me for dear life before pulling away and kissing my cheek. Not saying a word as he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. He escorted me out to the town car, never once letting go of my hand as if he was terrified I’d disappear again.

I blankly stared out the window the entire drive, watching cars blur by. The rain coming down from the heavens, mimicking the tears I knew I’d shed. It felt like all I did was blink and I was walking up to my baby’s closed casket at the front of the church. Feeling random arms wrapping me in their embrace, offering condolences I didn’t want to hear. While tears streamed down their faces, breaking down, bringing me right along with them. I couldn’t tell if I was mourning the death of the baby I knew nothing about, or if it was just the whole situation becoming too much for my emotions to overcome.

It was one thing right after the other.

I blinked a few more times, going through the motions when I suddenly felt the cool wood of the pew hit my skin as I sat between Mason and Bo for the service. My parents’ sat to our right, my mom breaking down in my dad’s arms. My aunts, uncles, and cousins filled the rows behind us.

I looked around noticing some unfamiliar faces scattered throughout the church. I assumed they were extended family or close friends of my parents’. I just didn’t recognize them. My eyes continued to roam while the priest went on about the baby going up to the good Lord. Reading verse after verse from his Bible, muffling the sounds of the sobs echoing off the vaulted ceiling.

I continued looking around the open space when a woman dressed in all black, sitting in the last pew on the opposite side of the church, caught my attention. She was the furthest away from us as if she was trying to blend in or hide. Sitting by herself with what looked like a rosary in her grasp, her head bowed like she was deep in prayer. At one point she looked over at me with tears streaming down her face, giving me a slight smile. I wasn’t sure who she was, but something about her presence gave me a strange sense of comfort. I made a mental note to ask my mom who she was after the funeral.

For most of the service I sat there in a trance-like state, feeling as though my entire family’s eyes were focused solely on me.

Waiting for I don’t know what to happen.

My parents’ kept the service small, not wanting to overwhelm me. They had yet to understand that anything and everything overwhelmed me, no matter how big or small. During one of the readings the priest quoted Helen Keller, “The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart.” For some reason, his words pulled at my core and brought tears to my eyes. I needed to get some air. I was suffocating in a sea of everyone else’s despair, about to drown in my own. I excused myself to use the restroom, holding back the tears that threatened at the surface. Surprised when no one followed me out, but grateful nonetheless.

I made my way outside instead, craving to feel the sunshine on my face and the fresh air in my lungs. It seemed to be the only things that calmed me these days.

I pushed through the heavy wooden doors, hearing a loud thud on the other side. Followed by a man’s voice, rasping, “Oh, shit.”

Blocking out the sun with the back of my hand, I immediately looked up, blurting, “I’m so sor—” His eyes bared into mine, rendering me speechless. Locking me in place, I couldn’t move even if I wanted to, and for the first time since seeing yet another unfamiliar face, I didn’t want to.

His tall, muscular body towered over my small frame, looking down at me with the same longing in his solemn expression that my family wore every day. There was something about him, I couldn’t tear my gaze away from. A magnetic pull I was instantly drawn to.

As if he could read my mind, he murmured, “Mia...” just loud enough for me to hear.

I cocked my head to the side, narrowing my eyes, feeling as though I knew him. It evidently wasn’t from him knowing who I was.

It was from something deeper.

More meaningful.

A connection I couldn’t explain was happening. It was as though we had a link that was severed and one look was all it took to start mending it. The familiarity in his intense gaze made me weak in the knees. I hoped he didn’t notice, although he seemed like the type of guy who would notice everything. Neither one of us said a word, but it didn’t matter. Our eyes spoke volumes on their own.

“Yeah... that’s me,” I nervously stated, stepping further outside, wiping away the one tear that had escaped from my eye. Allowing the door to shut behind me. “I umm... I don’t know... I mean... I don’t remember who you...” I loudly sighed, giving up. Showing him I was getting frustrated. “I don’t have the best memory these days.”

He smiled, chuckling, “I know, pretty girl.” Setting me at ease.

I genuinely smiled back for what felt like the first time since I’d woken up in the hospital. Maybe it was the light blue shade in his eyes that was so damn enticing, or his smile that lured me right in. He was extremely handsome in that rugged, hard edge kind of way.

I took in his black suit, questioning, “Are you here for the funeral?”

His smile abruptly faded, making my stomach drop right along with it. Thinking I had just said something wrong once again. I hated that feeling. Especially knowing I was the reason for the hasty look that pushed away his beautiful features. Replacing them with the same pained expression I seem to cause everyone anytime I open my mouth.

He peered down at the ground, kicking the dirt around with his shoes like he was contemplating what to say next. Finally, he faintly nodded his head. Silently answering my question, but he still didn’t look me in the eyes.

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