Bliss York

IT WAS AS if my emotions were warring with each other over who would win. Who was the most powerful. I’m not sure how I walked back to my condo from the beach out front. I don’t remember it. My thoughts were clouded with pain, sorrow, disbelief, and there was nothing I could do. Nothing I could say.

He hadn’t wanted my comfort. There were no words I could have spoken that seemed right. No way to beg him not to leave me. To let me help him grieve. I couldn’t grieve for him. This was a blow that went deep and brutal. I had faced death. And while facing it my concern had been for those I’d leave behind. The pain I would inflict. I had fought when I wasn’t sure I had any fight left because I wouldn’t let them suffer my death.

But Nate . . . he would have to live through not only the death of his child but a terrible tragedy. One that would wound him in a way I couldn’t bear to think about. I wanted to be there for him. I hated letting him go. But he’d not wanted me.

Thinking about me and my loss wasn’t fair. I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t hurt for me. Because I had loved a man and lost him. He had never even got to hold his son. I’d mourn but I’d mourn for him. Not because I lost him but because of what he lost. I loved Nate Finlay even if that love had been one sided. It was enough for me. I knew what love was. I had experienced it twice for very short times. But both with him.

The door opened and Eli was standing there. His face etched with worry and concern. “I saw him leave with two men. One drove him the other drove his truck. He had his duffel bag. Are you okay? What did he do?”

I just stood there trying to listen. Knowing I had to say something to Eli but my soul felt so fractured that it hurt to think. To stand. To speak.

“I swear to God I will track his sorry rich spoiled ass down and beat it! What did he do?”

Eli was angry. Worried that Nate had hurt me. He had but he had no other choice. He was hurting worse. I understood that.

“Octavia hung herself, Eli. And she was pregnant with his son.”

Eli’s anger blew out like a candle. His face dropped and the horror of my words registered on his face.

“Holy shit,” he whispered.

“He’s gone.” Those two words didn’t say everything but they didn’t have to. Eli knew. Nate was gone and he wouldn’t be back. I felt like a horrible person for even grieving over losing him. Before I even got to enjoy loving him.

Eli’s arms were around me and once there I let the pain go. The sobbing for all Nate had lost. What he’d never have and for what we would never have.

I woke the next morning in my bed but my clothes were still on. Eli had held me while I cried last night on the sofa. That was the last thing I remembered. I must have fallen sleep. I touched my eyes. They felt raw and swollen. The ache in my chest was still there and I stared up at the ceiling. Today was like any other day. I’d get up, eat, get dressed, go to work. Life would go one. Except my heart was somewhere else. With someone else. And I couldn’t help him. I couldn’t hold him as Eli had held me

There was a soft knock on my door and then it slowly opened and Eli peeked in. “Oh you’re awake,” he said opening it wider and coming inside.

“I’ll get you some coffee. What do you feel like eating?”

He was treating me like I had just lost my child. Like this horrific reality was mine. Who was making sure Nate had something to eat? Was there someone he would allow to hold him? Had he cried? Sobbed for the emptiness and grieved? Who was with him?

I hated this. I hated not knowing if he was okay. But he made it clear with his body language and words he didn’t say that he didn’t want me near him. In the light of day, I realized he blamed me. Us. For this. Octavia had done this because Nate had left her. Broken things off. People broke up all the time. This wasn’t fair. To react this way. To take another life with your own. She had to be in a very dark place but I was angry at her. For her choice. For what she took. How could she do that? Leave her family behind? I’d not been given a choice. I had to fight to live yet she just threw her life away and that of her child’s.

“Do you think someone is making sure he eats?”

Eli walked over and sat at my feet on the edge of the bed. “Yes. Now that I know what happened, what I saw last night makes sense. I think that his dad came here to get him. Didn’t want him to drive. Brought the other man to drive his truck home. I watched his dad hug him tightly. I think he’s being watched over. He’s not alone.”

“He has good parents,” I said more for my sake than anything. Reminding myself what I knew already.

“I’m glad.”

I nodded and finally sat up. “He blames me. He blames us. What we did. Him breaking up with her because of me. I . . . I kissed him before he broke up with her. Maybe I am to blame. He could hate me and be justified.” I dropped my head into my hands. “I just don’t understand it. How someone can be so upset that they take their life knowing the devastation they’ll leave behind.”

Eli let out a deep sigh. “I don’t either. But we don’t know where her head was. She could have been in a twisted dark place and didn’t know how to ask for help. Who to ask.”

That wasn’t enough for me. Maybe Eli thought she had an excuse but I didn’t She just took lives like they weren’t meaningful. Like every breath we take isn’t a gift. Because it is. I knew that. I knew that every time I saw the sunrise it wasn’t something to take for granted. It was something to be thankful for. It wasn’t to be tossed away. Life was special. No matter how hard it got it could get better. You had to trust that.

“I know you fought to live, Bliss. You see life as the precious gift it is. I also know that is what you’re sitting there battling over in your head. But people have problems. Their brains betray them. They need help maybe even medication. You don’t know what her thoughts were when she did it.”

For now, I just needed him to stop. I didn’t want to hear that. I didn’t believe it. The wake of sorrow that her selfish choices made would never heal.

 

Nate Finlay

I COULD HEAR their voices downstairs. They were all here. Both my sisters. My Uncle Grant, Aunt Harlow and Lila Kate. Aunt Nan, Uncle Cope, Finn, and I could even hear Calla’s loud voice. They’d let her out of school today it seems. They were all here for me. It was my family. It’s what we did. We were there for each other.

Although I expected this I didn’t want it. Having Dad show up last night and drive me home had been what I needed. The fact I was too emotionally fucked up to drive hadn’t registered then. But when he and Uncle Grant stepped out of the truck I knew that I wanted them there.

The large group downstairs, I didn’t want. I needed to be left alone. They couldn’t cheer me up. They didn’t understand it all. No one knew what had happened exactly. They were blaming this on Octavia coming off her meds. She dealt with depression. What I hadn’t told anyone was that I might have put that rope around her neck.

I knew now she wanted to tell me about the baby. I’d told her I didn’t care with my response. All because I loved Bliss York. Love wasn’t supposed to cause this. It was supposed to make you happy and all that shit that was downstairs. Married people that I’d grown up watching and wondering if love was that great. Or just a lot of work.

When I finally think maybe they were all on to something, I’m thrown into a nightmare. Fuck being in love. I had wanted easy. I had chosen something more and it screwed up everything. It hurt so many people. It had taken my son. My son. I’d had a son.

But he was gone. Just like his mother. So quickly. So needlessly.

My door opened and mom stepped inside and closed it behind her. The apologetic look on her face told me she knew I didn’t want them all here.

“They’re worried about you,” she said simply.

I understood that. But I still wanted privacy.

“You can come eat with us or I’ll bring you up breakfast. But you’ve got to eat.”

Last night she had been out at the truck before I could even step out of it. Like dad she’d wrapped me in her arms. Her face had been wet with tears and her eyes red and swollen. She hadn’t said anything but that she loved me.

There had been nothing more to say. She understood me better than anyone. Even dad. Like now. She was quietly coming to check on me. Knowing I wouldn’t want to go down there and face them all.

“I’ll come down to eat. If I don’t they’ll all start coming up here.” I didn’t want to but not eating wasn’t happening with Blaire Finlay. She was stubborn.

“I’d like to do a memorial service with just family for him,” she said the words so quietly I almost didn’t hear her. Him. My son. The one who wasn’t given a chance. The pain tore through me again so fiercely I winced. But she was right. We should. He deserved to be remembered. His life acknowledged

“Okay,” I replied.

She nodded and tears filled her eyes. She walked over to pull me into her arms again. “He would have been beautiful. Just like you.”

I didn’t want to think about that now. Maybe one day I’d be able to think of how he would look. What he would have been like. But not now. I wasn’t ready. I let my mother grieve in her own way.

She let me go and kissed my cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Come when you’re ready,” she told me before turning to leave the room.

I wasn’t sure I would be ready in the next year but that wasn’t what she meant. She wanted me to come in the next hour. Getting this over with so I could return to my solitude was the best I could do.

Grabbing a tee shirt, I pulled it on to go with the sweat pants I had slept in. I didn’t care about my hair or brushing my teeth. If my breath stunk they might keep their distance. I prepared myself for all the well meant love and support I was about to walk into and headed downstairs.

Aunt Nan was talking about Calla getting a bad grade and her threat to pull her out of cheerleading when I walked into the room. They all seemed to notice me at once and the room went silent. No one moved except for Aunt Nan. She immediately got up from her chair and came straight to me. Grabbed my arms and kissed my cheek hard then pulled me tightly into a hug. “You’re strong, Nate Finlay. Tough as nails. You’re going to hurt in a way I can’t imagine but you will make it through. You will find happiness and you will be okay.” Her words were said with such conviction I almost believed them.

I hugged her back and whispered a “thanks” even though I didn’t think I deserved to ever be okay. When she let me go she turned to my mother. “I’ll fix him some coffee while you get his plate ready.”

Mom was already working on my food as she nodded.

“Now don’t you all stand around here acting like the sound of your voices are going to break him. Talk dammit,” Uncle Grant’s words would have made me smile if there was a chance I could have.

They all started slowly talking again. Mom put my plate down across from where my dad was sitting with his coffee. He had been silent but his steady gaze had been on me. I looked at him and the solemn expression in his eyes said more than any words. He was worried about me and wanted to fix this but knew he couldn’t.

“You sleep?” he asked as I sat down.

“Some.”

He nodded and took a drink of his coffee. His eyes shifted to Uncle Grant as he sat down beside me. “Love you, kid,” he told me as he squeezed my shoulder.

I knew that. I knew they all did but they were all at a loss of what to say.

Finn stood nervously to the side a few feet away but I saw him watching me. He wasn’t sure if he should get closer or what to do. I turned to my younger cousin. “Have a sit,” I told him nodding to the chair to my right. “It’s okay.”

Finn was nineteen now. When he had been born, he’d been a baby that bored me. But soon he had become my little shadow and I liked it. Having him look up to me and mimic me made me feel important. He was the little brother I never had. Although he was much larger than me now. He was the size of his father and Uncle Cope was a big man. He was also quieter like his dad. His sister however was like Aunt Nan. She was chatty and loved attention.

“I’m sorry,” Finn said in his deep voice.

“Me too,” I replied.

Arms wrapped around my neck from behind. Expensive perfume met my nose then a kiss was pressed to my cheek. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. That was Ophelia. The sister I had adored until she stole my bedroom and painted it pink. I’d been one angry six-year-old boy. But Phoenix had been born and my parents needed Ophelia’s room for the nursery. And I was the oldest so they moved me into the far bedroom. I finally forgave her when she came into my room crying big crocodile tears after they brought Phoenix home from the hospital. She wasn’t the baby anymore and she was afraid they’d forget her or give her away.

I reached up and touched her arm. I didn’t have to say anything to her. She knew I was glad she was here. We didn’t see each other as much anymore and I missed her. Having them all here wasn’t as bad as I thought. Their voices all began to grow louder as several conversations took place.

Eating my breakfast, I listened and tried to join in when they wanted me to. But my heart wasn’t in it. I wasn’t sure I even had one anymore.