A soft hand lands on my shoulder, and I jump. Turning around, I wipe the tears from my cheeks and try to dry them up, though it’s no use.
“Lennon,” Hunter says softly. “I don’t think you’re ready to go back to work already. You need time to heal, to process everything. I’m sure the school would understand considering what happened.” He looks like he didn’t get any sleep either. It’s been a rough two days for us both. I can tell he’s emotionally angry too, but he’s better at hiding it than I am. Instead of crying like me, he holds it all in, but if he doesn’t release it soon, he’s eventually going to snap.
I swallow hard, knowing as soon as I speak my voice is going to crack. “I know.”
Tears fall, and I wipe them away again. “But my students need me. The concert is on Friday, and they’ve worked so hard for this. Only three more days and then I’ll be on spring break and can process it all.”
I can tell he’s choosing his words carefully by the way he stares at me. “I understand, but just know that no one would blame you if you changed your mind. If you show up and feel as if you can’t do it, it’s okay to admit it.” I don’t know how long Hunter plans to take off work, but I know he’s meeting with Brandon’s parents today to help with the funeral arrangements. Part of me is glad I won’t be there because I wouldn’t be any help, but I’m also appreciative that he’s being strong and doing this so Brandon’s parents don’t have to do it alone.
I nod, feeling numb, grateful I have this concert to keep me moving forward. I don’t feel like singing and pretending to be happy, but I will for my students. Grabbing my bag and keys, I head to work, hoping I can make it through the next three days without breaking down in front of the entire school. I have to be strong for them or at least try to be.
The school concert goes off without a hitch. It was the perfect distraction, and the kids sang their little hearts out. Many of them asked what was wrong because when they’d sing, I’d cry. While I didn’t want to lie, it was just easier to say someone I cared about passed away and explain how proud I was of them. So damn proud.
After the performance, Principal Maples congratulated me for a job well done and gave her condolences. I think she knew I was in a fragile state of mind and left it at that, though I’ve heard the whispers about me being at work so grief stricken. For the most part, everyone was extremely understanding or at least acted like they were. But now it’s Sunday, a day I’ve been dreading for the past week because today’s the day I’ll put my love to rest.
Some people say funerals give closure to the soul, but to me, it only makes it real that Brandon’s never coming back. I wore the same black dress as on our Valentine’s Day date, and I don’t know how I’ll ever put it on again after this. Once I’m ready, I suck in a deep breath and sit on the couch, wishing I could sink inside the cushions and disappear.
Hunter walks into the living room, dressed in a sleek black suit. “Do you want to ride with me?”
I hear him talking, but I’m too lost in my head, thinking about this funeral and what it means once it’s over.
He walks farther into the room and kneels in front of me so we’re eye level. “Lennon. Do you want to ride with me?”
Blinking, I look at him, meeting his gaze. “Sure.”
“We should probably get going then,” he says, standing, then walking away. But I don’t know if I’m ready. I stand, and I lose the control I thought I had.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. I try to stop crying but can’t seem to find the faucet to turn off the tears.
Hunter takes a few steps forward but maintains some distance between us. “Hey, hey. Don’t be sorry.”
I feel stupid each time I burst into tears around him. I know he doesn’t like me, and he’s only being nice because I’m so emotional right now. As difficult and impossible as it seems, I’ll eventually have to find my own place and try to move on with my life.
I inhale a deep breath and wipe my face.
“Ready?” Hunter lifts his eyebrows and gives me a small smile. The truth is, I don’t know if I can do this, but I know I have to.
I grab my phone and tuck it into my clutch, then follow Hunter outside. He walks beside me, and neither of us speaks. We get into the truck and drive across town to the church Brandon grew up attending. After we park, Hunter turns off the engine, and we sit and stare at the double doors that lead inside. His chest rises and falls, and I look over at him and see tears well on the edges of his eyes, but they don’t fall.