THE FROZEN GROUND crunched beneath my boots as I walked through the maze of sun-blanched stone angels and carved headstones—some marble, others concrete and granite. Framed portraits and meaningful trinkets decorated the space before them, and bright flowers offered a splash of color against the otherwise gloomy and muted landscape. The surrounding trees, which provided ample shade in the spring and summer, were naked and bare, their branches swaying like a skeleton’s limbs, casting shadows over the aging plots. A cold wind whipped across my face, stinging my cheeks and whistling in my ears as dead leaves scattered and tumbled along the stone pathways, and the smell of newly turned earth had me holding my breath.
It was all too much. Far too real.
My heart protested in my chest as I climbed the small hill that lead toward the rear of the cemetery—toward Adam’s grave—and I hesitated. The last few steps were always the hardest to take, and no matter how many times I traveled this journey, it never got easier. I stood for a moment, licking my chapped lips and watching a couple in the distance.
Cradled within the man’s arms, the young woman sobbed. Her red curls clung to her cheeks, and her knees buckled beneath her as she stared at the tombstone that memorialized a life lost, and I knew all too well what she was experiencing, the crippling ache in her chest that felt a hundred yards too wide and a thousand miles too deep. I wanted to walk over to her and tell her time would heal her wound, but the truth was, it didn’t.
Pain doesn’t subside.
It simply becomes a permanent part of your life, bleeding into every breath, reminding you that no matter how dead you feel, you’re still alive.
I was still alive.
That’s the thing about the pain of losing someone you love. It doesn’t teach you how to be okay. It teaches you how to be incomplete.
I remained in the same spot until I was the only person left in the cemetery and then willed my legs to move, each step carrying me closer and closer to my forever always.
As I came to a stop in front of the familiar blue granite, I sank to my knees. My hands landed in my lap and my vision blurred. It felt like only yesterday when I was faced with the choices: marble, granite, limestone. I had barely made it through choosing the type of stone before they were asking more questions. What size? What shape? What color? What finish? There were so many options, but none of them came with what I really wanted.
Him.
Adam.
I’d just wanted Adam.
I wanted to erase the nightmare and return to our happy, blissful dream. I wanted him home and in my arms. I wanted him to kiss away my tears and remove the permanent pain living deep within my heart.
I didn’t want to be left with memories.
I wanted moments.
More beautiful moments.
Glancing at the vase—empty of the flowers I’d brought a few months ago—I read the engraved inscription.
Adam L. Hoffman
“Death leaves a heartache no one can heal; love leaves a memory no one can steal.”
God, wasn’t that true.
My fingers traced numbly over the words, my palm flattening against the smooth, cold stone as a small cry parted my lips. Nineteen months and I still struggled to accept he was gone. At times, it felt as if he were away on another business trip, and I was here anxiously waiting for his return, waiting for his call, waiting to hear his laughter and his not-so-funny, but utterly stupid, jokes.
His stupid jokes.
They never came.
Chin quivering, I tried to hold onto my composure and organize my thoughts. I had so much to say—so much I needed to tell him.
Where did I even begin?
“I know it’s been a little while since I’ve visited, but coming here isn’t exactly easy for me. You’d think it’d bring me some sort of comfort or at the very least make me feel closer to you, but it doesn’t. The only thing it does is remind me that you’re never coming home.”
Frowning, I stared at the rings on my fingers and spun them around and around, quietly admitting, “I’ve met someone. He, uh … he’s a mess and broken like me. He’s lost and has no direction whatsoever, and well, if I’m being honest, you’d probably hate him.” Soft, sad laughter floated from me, the thought of Sam magnifying the pain in my chest, but I managed to smile through the hurt. “But he makes me smile—God, does he make me smile—and he makes me laugh. He puts my happiness above his own as if it’s the only thing he wants out of this life, and I’m not entirely sure why. Probably because he has a good heart. I mean, of course, he does. He has your heart, Adam.” The tears were sudden, uninvited, but there, nonetheless. “He fills the emptiness you left behind.”
I paused, my voice lowering to a whisper.
“Do you have any idea how much I miss you? I miss you so much. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t wish I could take it all back, that I could do things differently. But I can’t, and I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for getting mad and upset. I’m sorry for telling you to leave and for not unlocking the door, for not agreeing to go with you.” Emotion clogged my throat and I choked on a sob. “I’m so sorry for destroying our forever.” Hands shaking, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small velvet box I had tucked safely inside. My fingers smoothed over the blue fabric before opening the lid, and the rays of the early morning sun caught the brilliant cut of the diamond. A kaleidoscope of colors danced across my face as I stared at the small token that represented everything I’d lost, a future that should have been promised to me. “It’s beautiful. It’s absolutely beautiful, and I’m so sorry that I never got the honor of wearing it.”
He had done good.
The ring was everything a potential bride could only hope it would be. Subtle, yet stunning. Its facets sparkled with every bit of love that went into its choosing, but it was the two words on the inside of the band that always made the tears fall faster and my heart bleed in a way that seemed as though it would never stop.
Always forever
I swatted at my tears, wiping them before they had a chance to vanish into the frost-laden grass. “When you walked out that door, I never expected it would be for the last time. It wasn’t supposed to be for the last time, because we were supposed to have forever.” A shuddery breath left my trembling lips. “We were supposed to have forever, but you left, Adam. You left, and you forgot to tell my heart how to go on without you.” Pausing, I refilled my lungs. “I need you to know you take up a place in my heart no one ever will, but Sam … Sam’s managed to collect all of my broken pieces, and somehow he’s made me whole. He’s become my everything, and I can’t feel guilty about that. I don’t want to feel guilty for loving him, because I do, I love him so much, which is why I’ve got to let you go.” My voice broke on the words. “It’s time I let you go.”
Taking one more long look at the ring, I set the box down on the ground and slowly pushed to my feet. As I stood there, the warmth of the sun kissed my cheeks, like a whisper sent directly from heaven, a message from Adam telling me it was okay—it was okay to move on and be happy—and it was as if all the guilt and regret I’d been carrying had suddenly lifted. The only thing left was the love in my heart that would forever belong to him. “I love you.” I pressed a kiss to my fingers and touched the cold granite. “Forever always.”
And then I turned, and I ran—not walked, but ran—straight toward my future.
THE SCARIEST PART of falling in love was the moment right before you were about to hand over your heart. It’s not about letting it go. It’s about hoping the person you’re giving it to not only takes it but willingly offers theirs in return.
Shifting my car into park, I killed the engine and hurried up the path to Sam’s house, my heart pounding beneath my ribs at the thought of finally telling him everything I’d been too terrified to say. I climbed the steps of his patio and came to a halt, pressing the bell on the white, wooden frame.
Relax, Cassi. Just tell him how you feel.
Seconds bled into minutes but seemed like hours as I stood there, my palms sweaty and my fingers twisting nervously around each other. I glanced to my left, seeing an unknown car parked in the driveway alongside his truck, and then back to the front door, my head conjuring up reasons as to why it was taking him so long to answer.
Did he have company? This early in the morning? On a Saturday?
That was unusual and not at all like him.
At the sudden opening of the door, I fixed a smile on my face, only to have it slowly fade as my gaze landed on the woman standing before me. Messy, yet beautiful blonde hair curled around delicate shoulders. Twinkling eyes glittering like blue jewels under the winter sun. Long, tanned legs, fully exposed except where the soft material of Sam’s T-shirt brushed against her slender thighs.
“Vanessa.” Her name scraped up my throat, burning like coarse sandpaper against tender skin, and I cringed at the insecurity in my tone. Fear as to why she was there—half naked and dressed in Sam’s clothing—caused me to stutter. “Wh-what are you doing here?”
“I, um …” Clearly uncomfortable, she shifted on her feet, those pink full lips rubbing together. “I came by last night and—”
Last night. She’d been there since last night? Why had she been there since last night?
Oh God. Please no. Please tell me he didn’t.
“Vanessa?” Sam’s groggy voice barely penetrated my convoluted thoughts as the door creaked opened wider. “Who’s here?”
Don’t look at him. Don’t you dare look at him.
I looked anyway, because my heart—he owned my heart and I needed to be sure he hadn’t broken it. That he hadn’t taken those fragile pieces he had carefully placed back together only to re-destroy them into a thousand new ones. Desperate for reassurance, my gaze settled on his partially naked frame, absent of the T-shirt currently hugging her body, before drifting upward.
Our eyes collided and locked, the truth in his irrefutable, and my stomach dropped.
“Cassi.”
I frowned, feeling the first stab of the knife as it pierced my chest. The way he said my name, the way it fell from his lips on a hoarse murmur—a whispered admission wrapped in a weak apology—confirmed what I’d hoped were only irrational fears.
The second stab came as he repeated himself, as if he were trying to prevent what was already occurring. “Cass ...”
Piece by piece, my heart shattered.
It slowly tumbled to a pile at my feet, a fragmented collage of everything we were and everything we’d never be. My gaze flicked to Vanessa, to the woman who was everything I was not, and as if I’d been kicked in the gut, I gasped. Sharp, agonizing pain crawled up and grabbed me by the throat, as sadness, and a million other emotions I’d yet to decipher, pricked the corner of my eyes.
Torturous images of them together—laughing, kissing, making love—assaulted me, flashing in my mind like a vivid movie reel, a horror film I couldn’t pause or unplay.
My hands balled into fists as I fought against the hurt, as I tried to keep it in, tried to keep it together.
Nausea churned in my stomach.
I felt sick, physically sick.
After everything we’d been through, everything we’d shared. I realized I’d made the mistake of letting him walk away, of not giving him a single reason to stay, but I’d needed time.
I’d. Just. Needed. Time.
I’d needed to sort out my feelings and rid myself of the guilt. I’d needed to be better for him. I’d needed to be what he deserved. I’d needed … Gosh, it didn’t even matter anymore, did it?
One decision had erased the lifetime of ones we’d made before it.
Returning my gaze to his, I took a stumbled step back. I wanted to yell and scream. I wanted to beat on his chest and fall into the comfort of his arms. I wanted to cry and let go of the pain because this hurt. This hurt so much, and I didn’t know how to make it stop. I wanted to make it stop. I wanted to hear him tell me I had it all wrong and convince me that it wasn’t what it looked like, that I wasn’t so easily disposable because that’s how he had made me feel.
Disposable.
Why, Sam? Why?
My words were strangled in my throat, my chest ripping apart and bleeding from the wound he’d carelessly inflicted. How could he? How could he piece me together only to break me apart?
Shaking my head, I demanded the tears stay put. When I’d arrived at his house, it was with the intention of giving him all of me, but I refused to give him this—to allow him to see how much he had destroyed me.
Turning, I scurried off his porch.
As soon as my feet touched the ground, I took off.
Sam didn’t follow.
And that was when I realized if the scariest part of falling in love was handing over your heart, the hardest part was walking away, knowing they’d never come running after you.