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Beautiful Graves(76)

Author:L.J. Shen

And then I realize I forgot something. I pull the engagement ring from my finger and hand it over to him. It comes off easily, since I’ve barely eaten all week. “Can you give this to Gemma? Please? I’m sure she’d want this, and she is busy—”

“With Sarah.” Joe pushes off the tree trunk and starts to make his way back to the church. I follow him. “Don’t read too much into that. Right now you’re deep in your feelings. Sarah is a doctor. She is clinical and pragmatic. She is exactly what Mom and Dad need.”

“I’m not mad.” But I am; I just know it’s ungracious to be. “Take the engagement ring,” I reiterate.

“As much as I’d love to be your errand boy, I think you should give it to Gemma yourself.” He tromps past the church. Where is he going?

“I’m leaving,” he says, as if reading my thoughts. “I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what?” I follow him, running after him.

Joe unlocks his car and slides into the driver’s seat. “Can’t watch them lower him to the ground. It’s fucked up. And knowing Dom—he wouldn’t want either of us to see it. Come with me, Ever.”

He stops. Stares at me expectantly.

I’m standing in front of the driver’s side of his car. The door is wide open.

I look back at the church. People are starting to trickle out.

“My dad and my brother are there.”

“They’ll understand,” he says with conviction.

“Where to?” I ask, stunned.

“My apartment.”

“I don’t trust myself with you.” God, how awful am I that I admit this out loud to the brother of the man I was supposed to marry while he is being buried? Does human selfishness know any bounds?

A grim smile touches his lips. “That makes both of us.”

I take a step back. I don’t want to do something I’ll regret, and I think I might regret this very much if I get into the car with Joe right now. I feel myself shaking my head.

Joe hangs his head down. His signature wilted-flower move.

“I hate this.” Fresh tears sting my eyes.

“Saying goodbye again?”

I nod. How many times can he and I lose each other?

“Hug me?” I shrug.

“Too painful. Have a good life, Ever.” Joe slams his door shut behind him, in the car.

He drives away, taking whatever was left of my happiness with him.

PART 2

TWENTY-ONE

It’s been three weeks since Dom’s funeral, and I’m still in my bed.

Three weeks since I drove Dad and Renn to the airport. Before they boarded their plane, Dad hugged me and told me, “My door’s always open, kiddo. I think you need some time off from Massachusetts.”

Three weeks since my heart soared, because I knew he meant it.

Three weeks since Nora started living in our apartment full-time because she is worried for me.

Three weeks since Colt had a fit about it, then apologized to both of us.

Three weeks since I changed my sheets and went grocery shopping and took a shower.

I’m not always in my bed. Sometimes I get up to answer the DoorDash delivery person, as indicated from the mountains of takeout dishes littered around me. I sometimes go to the bathroom. I feed and water Loki religiously. But mostly, I’m in my bed.

The day after the funeral, I quit both my jobs without notice. Jenine, my boss, seemed understanding. Then again, the option not to be understanding was taken away from her. I lost my fiancé. I deserve a free pass.

Nothing really anchors me to Salem anymore. I don’t have a job, or friends, or an affiliation with this place. Salem is soaked with Dom’s presence. The city, in itself, is an open wound for me. Case in point—I don’t leave the house anymore.

But then San Francisco is a reminder that my mom died. I can’t stand either of these places right now. But I have to exist somewhere. Currently, though, the easiest thing to do is . . . well, to not-do anything.

Since I’m too distracted to watch TV and read books, I mainly spend my time going over Dom’s social media accounts, holding on to the remainders of him. There’s not much there. Dom wasn’t big on social media. I keep staring at his three Instagram pictures over and over again. I get into the comments section. Check the profiles of all the people who liked them. That’s how I find Sarah’s Instagram profile. It’s public but scanty. There’s one photo there of her and Dom smiling at each other in a nightclub. I notice that Dom liked and commented on her photos until his very last day alive.

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