Jude and I took a slow drive to the wake, both of us trying to shake off the image of Freya holding onto Will’s casket, and the sound of her pleas. I couldn’t make it go away no matter how hard I tried. When you see something like that, when you witness that level of hurt, especially from one of your friends, it stays with you. I couldn’t imagine a time when I’d forget her scream or the look of desperation on her face.
We were amongst the last to arrive at the Warriors’ restaurant, aside from Freya, her mom, Will’s parents, and Richard. They would be a while, so Jude and I got some drinks and located Leah, Radleigh, Jesse, Bryce, and Miguel. They all sat at one of the larger tables and they’d saved seats for us. Nobody spoke, all of us united in our concern for Freya. A table full of puffy-eyed people. Leah was still crying against Radleigh’s shoulder.
“What do we do now, guys?” Miguel asked, downing the last of his beer and dejectedly slamming his bottle on the table. “This is the hard part, right? The funeral is over and Freya has nothing else to focus on. How can we help her?”
“By doing what we’ve been doing for the last week,” Jude said. “We keep visiting her, talking to her. Let her know we’re always around.”
“It’s not enough.”
“Nothing will be enough.”
“I can’t stop hearing her scream,” Bryce said, shaking his head, his eyes glazed. “I don’t know how she’ll get over this.”
“She won’t.” My voice was as vacant as Bryce’s stare. “That thing people say about time healing is bullshit. One day she’ll learn to get out of bed without the pain crippling her, but she’ll always have a huge hole inside her. She’ll always be a little bit broken.”
Only Jude and Jesse understood why I spoke with such confidence on this topic. I still had two gigantic holes inside me from my childhood; a third formed when Will died, and grew every day I saw Freya struggle.
“Maybe we could make something for her,” Jesse said. “I don’t know about you guys but I’ve got a bunch of photos from nights out, and from playing around during training. We could make a memory book or something.”
Miguel nodded. “That’s a cool idea. Leah is the queen of photo taking. What do you say?”
“We could make a scrapbook,” she said, wiping her eyes. “We should get together with the photos we have and choose the best ones. I’m happy to put the book together. I’ve got some time now.” She rested her hand over her stomach. Radleigh gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze and she smiled up at him.
A comfortable silence fell over the table because there really was nothing else to say. We could have continued with idle chatter about ways to help ease Freya’s pain, or we could have gone over everything that was said at the funeral, remembering every detail. Instead, the quiet was welcome. Now and again one of us would catch someone else’s eye, and we’d acknowledge each other without words before getting back to our own thoughts.
Almost an hour passed before Freya arrived, tucked firmly under the arm of Will’s dad. Will looked a lot like his father, they were even built the same. Freya must have found the familiarity comforting. I sort of wanted to hug him myself, pretend he was Will and try to ease some of my guilt. I jolted as a new surge shot through me. Why couldn’t I get over that?
Therapy. Therapy. Therapy.
Therapy meant talking. What I needed was to talk to Will.
It’s not impossible. Wasn’t Freya doing just that at his graveside, when she begged him not to go?
Maybe the thought was totally idiotic but in the moment it felt like the most obvious, most genius plan ever.
I had to talk to Will.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Freya take a huge breath and straighten herself. She truly looked like she might collapse again at any second but her inner strength kicked in and after a grateful smile at the people who had helped her to her feet back in the churchyard, she made her way towards the first table of visiting soccer players to thank them for coming to the funeral.
“That woman has some serious balls,” Bryce said.
Miguel grinned. “That’s what you get for dating a soccer coach.”
Desperate as I was to spend some time with Freya, once the idea of talking to Will planted itself in my brain, it grew and grew until I thought I might explode if I didn’t get out of there right away and say what needed to be said.
With a composure that totally betrayed the buzzing of my insides, I excused myself as if going to the bathroom, and walked out of the restaurant.
I wasn’t myself. Something had taken over me but I went with it because it was the only thing that made sense to me. I didn’t have our car keys, so when I slipped out of the training ground entrance, I took off my heels and started walking.
I must have looked insane, but the cemetery wasn’t too far away. I’d walked further in the past, barefoot too.
The earthy mound that now covered Will’s casket was surrounded by his funeral flowers, brightening up what would have been an otherwise depressing sight. I placed my shoes on the grass then sat down beside them, not caring that I might get stains on my dress. I tucked my legs underneath me and plucked a daisy from the ground, twiddling the stem between my fingers.
“So, I… I’ve been thinking a lot about stuff. Actually, I’ve not done anything much other than think since my birthday. I made some shitty choices over the last few weeks but the only one I regret more than hurting Jude is that I was a bitch to you the last time we saw each other.” A light breeze disturbed the petals of my flower. “I keep telling myself you know, knew me better. You knew that wasn’t really me snapping at you. But then I realised I never told you anything different. Sure, I was always there to help you out, and we had bunches of fun together. Maybe I wasn’t clear enough about how I felt. I haven’t been clear about anything for a long time… or maybe ever, you remember how I am. Chatter, chatter, chatter. Shop, shop, shop.
“With all the time I’ve had to think about what to say to you it’s still coming out in a jumble.” I sighed, putting my focus directly on Will’s grave. “I loved you so much, Will. I loved how you didn’t care how nutty I can be, and you accepted me as I am. I think it was tougher for you because you were way more sensible than the rest of the Warriors.” I paused, chuckling at the truth of those words. Will took longer to get used to me than everyone else but when he did, he embraced my crazy like a champ. “I’m so, so sorry for the things I said to you. I was mad that day, and I was stupid enough to think I had all the time in the world to apologise. Now I know better. If there’s something that needs to be said, it should be said right away. Time… well, it doesn’t wait. I had some dumb excuses lined up but they don’t count now. Because now you’re not here and I don’t get to talk to you face to face. I don’t get to feel your hugs - which by the way - were always awesome.” A tear splashed onto my lap, quickly followed by another, and another. “I think you’d have forgiven me. I’d have gotten the hug I need from you right now. You were good, Will. Special. And I’ll never forget you.”
I placed my daisy on top of his grave; pathetic in comparison to the floral displays all around me but it didn’t matter. I’d done what I set out to do.