chapter 37
Jaxon
WILL YOU TELL ME what’s wrong? I don’t want you to shut me out, and something is clearly wrong,” Scarlett says to me, her eyes filled with confusion and sadness. I’ve been a zombie today, and although I tried to hide it, mainly by escaping, apparently I’ve failed. I don’t want to hurt Scarlett, and she looks like she’s upset by me being so closed off, but today is just a really hard day for me.
Really hard.
I’m used to spending this day alone, lost in my thoughts, either working out in the gym until I stop from sheer exhaustion or opening a bottle of whiskey and drinking alone. However this year I have her, and I’m clearly not handling it very well.
Today is Olivia’s birthday.
I went to her gravestone on my lunch break, and then I didn’t even end up going back to work.
I sat there.
For hours.
Talking to her, asking her questions, like Why didn’t you just come to me?
I would have saved her.
I would have given anything to save her, anything.
I don’t understand why she didn’t come to me; I’m her brother. Her protector. And I fucking failed. I scrub my hand down my face, realizing that Scarlett is waiting for my answer and once again I’m just lost in my own thoughts, not paying attention to anything outside of those. She’s probably wondering what the fuck is going on right now, and as my woman, she deserves an honest answer. I wrap the towel around me tighter and sit on the bed.
“My sister died,” I blurt out, not knowing how else to say this. “And today was her birthday. I’m sorry if I’ve been acting off all day, but yeah, I’m just not good at dealing with today.”
She reaches over and takes my hand, stroking my knuckles with her thumb. Silent support. “I’m sorry about your sister,” she finally says. “Why didn’t you tell me? Do you not like to talk about her?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s not that. I kind of pretend . . . I pretend that it never happened. It’s easier that way. She was my sister, Scarlett, my only sibling. I don’t know what happened, or why she didn’t come to me, but I wasn’t there for her, and now she’s gone. I don’t know how I’m meant to get over that.”
“I don’t think you are,” she says softly. “I think you just miss her, and deal as best as you can. Maybe you try to remember good memories, and how she would want you to be living your life if she were here. Maybe you hope that time will help heal, help make it easier, but also accept that there will always be a place missing in your heart because of her, and that’s okay. It’s okay to feel like this, Jaxon. I just wish you wouldn’t shut me out, and maybe one day you’ll feel comfortable talking about her. You keep her photo out there. I’ve always wanted to ask about it, but I didn’t because I knew it was something you didn’t want to discuss. I’d hoped you would bring it up when you were ready.”
“But I didn’t.”
“No, you didn’t,” she repeats, sliding closer to me and resting her head on my shoulder. “Will you tell me about her now?”
I take a deep breath. “She was beautiful. Kind. Gentle. Loving. I used to have to threaten boys in school to stay away from her. She just had something about her, you know? Like people could somehow sense that she was special.” I stop and smile, thinking about her. “She used to tell me she was an empath because she felt everything so deeply. I don’t believe in any of that stuff, but it was true that she was sensitive.”
“She sounds amazing,” Scarlett tells me, ducking her head. “I have to admit something. When Demon was here he mentioned her, so I kind of already knew that she’d passed away, but I didn’t want to ask you about it.”
My lips tighten.
Demon loved my sister; it was obvious. I don’t know why they didn’t end up together, but I wish that they had. Maybe she’d still be here. I sometimes wonder if Demon has the same thoughts, but I’d never raise them to him. It’d hurt too much to even consider. I know the two of them had feelings for each other, and soon after is when she met her husband. The one who made her hate her life so much that she ended it. A man I will hate until my last breath.
“Demon and her were close,” I admit, not going any further into it than that. “I should have told you. I don’t know; I’ve never had a woman I’m in so deep with that I had to explain, if that makes sense?”
She places a kiss on my stubbled cheek and sighs. “Can I ask you how she passed away?”
My body stills at her question, but I know she needs the answer. “She committed suicide.”
Her eyes widen. “Shit, Jaxon. I’m sorry.”
She jumps onto my lap and brings her arms around me, hugging me tightly, like with nothing but her will and love she can put all my pieces back together. “Did you go to her gravestone?”
I nod. “Yeah, I spent most of the day there. I tried to do some work but couldn’t concentrate. Tristan knows, and he shook his head at me when he saw me at work. I don’t think anyone expected me to show up at all, but I was trying to stay distracted. Ended up sitting at her stone, bottle in one hand. I brought her the biggest bouquet of red roses I could find because I know they were her favorite. So romantic, she used to say.”
Little did I know, she wasn’t getting any romance, or love. I don’t know how anyone can harm something so beautiful. Someone. It’s like he knew she was special, and instead of trying to embrace that and protect that, he decided to destroy her I wonder if she thought she could fix him, or if she could love him into being a good person. I wouldn’t be surprised, Olivia thought kindness and love were the cure to all evil.
“If you want to go back, I’ll go with you,” she says, clearing her throat. “If you want me to, of course. If you prefer to go alone, that’s okay too.”
“I usually go every month,” I tell her. “Next month, I’ll take you with me.”
I don’t know if she knows just how big of a deal this is. I’ve never taken anyone to Olivia’s gravestone. I’ve never even told anyone I go there once a month. I keep it all to myself. This is me really letting her in. Not just in a little, but all the way. Soul-deep.
“Okay,” she whispers, glancing up at me. “Come on, let’s get into bed. Maybe you can share some funny stories about you and her growing up. I’d like to hear them.”
She gets off my lap and climbs into bed, so I do the same.
And then we talk, bodies pressed together, my mind no longer closed off.
I share memories, stories, and jokes with her.
She laughs or she squeezes me tighter. She gives me whatever I need. She shares my pain, my frustration, my longing. She shares the burden, so that when I’m done, I feel lighter.
Freer.
Safer.
Less guilty.
Like everything will be fine, and it’s okay to remember my sister, and talk about her. Remember the good times. I don’t want those memories to fade. I want to remember her smile and her laugh, that scent she always wore. The look in her eyes as she’d watch me, like she adored me, like I could do no wrong in her eyes.
I would have died to protect her, but instead she died trying to be strong on her own.
I look up at the ceiling and think, I hope you’re happy now, Olivia. You were too good for this world anyway.