Face The Music by Robbins Andrea K

Author:Robbins, Andrea K. [Robbins, Andrea K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-06-13T22:00:00+00:00

He took a step forward. “I wanted to be here for you. I’m sorry I was late. I wasn’t sure how to get here.”

I placed a single white rose next to Mom’s headstone. Chris wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “What are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know. Go home, I guess.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“I don’t know how good of company I’ll be.”

He rested his chin on my shoulder and dropped his hands to my waist. “I don’t mind.”

Emily and I got a ride home from the funeral director. Jake and Chris met us at the apartment. Emily unlocked the door, and we all followed her inside.

“Al, are you hungry?” Emily asked.

“No,” I heard myself say. I watched as she dug through the various baskets and dishes of food people had sent home with us. I’d have to remember to keep track of who sent what so we could thank them later. Chris helped Emily uncover the food. Jake sat by me on the couch but didn’t attempt to make conversation.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” Emily tried to hand me a piece of a sandwich, but I shook my head. I had no appetite.

The guys ate and helped Emily clean up and put things away. I didn’t move from my spot on the couch. It was like I was inside a TV, looking out at everyone as they went through the motions. Occasionally, someone would throw a concerned glance my way, but they mostly left me alone.

Chris sat next to me after Jake left. We sat for some time in complete silence while Emily busied herself in the kitchen.

“She woke up. She recognized me.” I said to Chris.

He looked at me. “Really?”

“Aside from the other night, I can’t even remember the last time she recognized me.”

He reached over and took my hand. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

I intertwined my fingers through his and shook my head. “Is it wrong that a part of me is relieved? Because I feel so guilty right now, for feeling that way.”

Chris folded me in his arms and pulled me closer. I took comfort in his presence, in his willingness to sit there and let me cry. He didn’t say a word, but would, from time to time, run his fingers through my hair or rest his cheek against the top of my head. We seemed to share an intimacy, a connection on some level that I’d never shared with Paul. The realization of it hit me hard, like a giant tidal wave, drowning me with a new sense of awareness.

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