epilogue

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ONE YEAR LATER

"Let me know when you want to get out of the car." Ethan speaks softly after a few minutes of silence. "Or if perhaps today's not the day. That's fine too." He is looking over at me from the driver's seat, drawing invisible patterns on the back of my trembling hand. He seems to be reading me through my demeanor and falls back into silently soothing me with little touches.

I am beyond thankful that Ethan has made a full recovery. It has been long, we have struggled for months after the incident. Surgeries, blood transfers, you name it, Ethan's been through it. It was rather miraculous, but he's here, with me. And I pray to God, the universe, anyone who is willing to grand my wish. Ethan will be with me until death do us apart. I want nothing more.

With my father finally behind bars after a rather easy court with all the proof that we managed to gather, and Noah dead. Lexi's buried in a cemetery in her hometown, not far from here. I haven't visited her, nor her parents. I want to, but that is a milestone for another day. Thanks to a plea deal, which included his testimony and full honesty, Reed is currently serving a short jail sentence for his acts of blaming it on Ethan. I want to visit him with Ethan, but he needs a little more time. And I will wait, for as long as he needs me to.

It's just Ethan and Brooklyn now, enjoying each other's company. Healing, together. We have no threats in the form of family left. We can live like fairly normal human beings, for what it is worth.

Ethan's fought hard, he has been through a lot these past couple of years, more than any innocent human being could bear. And yet, he manages to be my comfort through it all. It makes me feel stupid and guilty. Aren't I supposed to be the one that should be stronger? Aren't I supposed to be picture perfect, as an aspiring psychologist? In all honesty, I am still having a hard time accepting that I'm mentally troubled too. Ethan and I are both seeing the same therapist, we're having individual and combined sessions and it's been helpful. We are not quite there yet. It might take some time.

And I am willing to learn to give myself time and space. To let myself feel. To struggle. To cry.

Still learning.

I slightly move into my seat, staring ahead as I feel tears prickling in my eyes. Still, after all this time. It seems like I can't help myself. I can't even fucking visit my mother's grave. It has been almost five years, and I haven't stepped a foot on this graveyard. I haven't even been able to bring her some flowers, to make sure her grave is prettier than ever, because she deserves nothing less.

"Hey, hey." Ethan speaks again. "Don't do that to yourself."

"Don't do what?" I involuntarily act oblivious, but my trembling voice gives it away.

"Getting mad at yourself for struggling, for overthinking. Forcing yourself to not cry. Daisy, don't do that to yourself." His voice is a mere whisper. Soft, touching my heart and soul with its tenderness. Even if I hear it for the rest of my life, I'll never get over the fact that people like him still exist. People that are patient with people like myself. People that are broken themselves, but healers too.

My guilt gnarls at my chest as I face him again. His hand finds my cheek, careful as ever, rubbing his thumb softly on my burning skin.

"God, I feel so fucking stupid." I sigh out loud. He doesn't speak, he just maintains the eye contact and movements as he gives me time and space. "It's been five years Ethan. Five fucking years. I want to do this. I'll cry, I don't care about that. I can cry. But I'm afraid of how I'll feel once I've visited her. It's something I've been purposefully putting off. And I know that makes me a shitty daughter, but I couldn't help myself. It's like a part of me foolishly believes she'll magically find her way back to me. I want to see her again. I want my mother, more than anything." My voice breaks at the final sentence. "Fuck." I whisper as I let my head fall against Ethan's chest. "I'm sorry for making this harder than it is."

He softly stroked my hair, placing swift kisses on my hairline. "You're making nothing harder. I'm just happy you're taking your time instead of forcing yourself. Take it slow, if you want to, I'll drive back home and we'll spend our evening baking cookies and listening to music or something. We could grab a coffee with Cole. And we could invite mom and Lizzie for a picnic in the garden in front of mom's hospital. I'm sure she'd love that, and I just really want to stuff myself with food, out in the sun, with you."

This makes me chuckle. I look up from his now tear stained chest up to him. "I want to do all of that, after we see mom. I really want to do this. I'm with you, and I fear I'll regret it more if I leave now."

"Whatever you want." He whispers, but I can see his lips forming into a proud smile.

It takes us a few more minutes, a few more sweet whispers and kisses, a few more snotty noses to wipe and tears to flow. But at last, we're slowly walking towards my mother's grave, carrying a bunch of the prettiest white flowers. A whole variety of them, for only one bouquet would not suffice. I have years to make up for to mom.

I look at the ground, not staring at any of the headstones, trying to avoid getting overwhelmed by death and misery. I like to think everyone's lying down there in silence, in piece. But reading head stones feels too personal. Too real. Too raw. Too much too soon.

I need time.

Ethan stops walking, my cue to look up. In an instant, I'm hit by a ton of emotions. But rather than a blood-curdling anger, or an overwhelming sadness, I feel relieved. I feel reunited. I take a step near her.

Here lies Diana Adams I read in silence. I let out the breath that I've been holding and sit on the grass, right where her feet are supposed to be.

"I've come to see you mom." I whisper, and the tears start cascading down my cheeks in hot streams. "I'm here."

I stare at her name, I stare at the grass that's been kept tidy. I stroke the blades of grass, grasping on to them without harming them. If only I could hold her hand. I shut my eyes and allow myself to audibly cry. A few minutes, maybe a lot of minutes, pass as I allow myself to feel her presence all around me. The soft wind causes my skin to erupt in a pleasant kind of goosebumps. It caresses my cheek, almost as if my mother is welcoming me. Almost as if she's whispering to me, reaching out to me.

It's good to see you again, my dearest.

My mind starts buzzing as I let the memory of her consume me. I cry some more, I talk with her and I accept this is our meeting place from now on. This is where our souls will connect as I keep coming back here. But then again, I'm always carrying her with me, wherever I go. Her memory will never fade. I will never let it fade.

As minutes pass, I feel comfortable. I feel at home. I introduce Ethan to my mother and she meets him with silence. I know she would approve of him. Ethan and I both place the flowers all around her grave, making sure not to disturb the peace of her neighboring souls nearby.

Ethan joins me on the ground, holding my left hand as I talk. I tell my mother about my high school graduation. I tell her about my current studies, about the volunteer work I've done. Telling her the things I know she'd be proud of. Telling her about the things she inspired me to do. Most importantly, I tell her about my internship at the prison. About everything, from meeting everyone on the first day to leaving that final and fatal meeting spot in an ambulance. I talk a lot, Ethan and my mother listen to a summary of my past couple of years. A chuckle here and there, but mostly the peace of the silent answers. I feel that she can hear me. I believe that she's with me still.

"I don't think I can leave." I admit out loud. I want to stay with her. As ridiculous as that sounds.

And then, after a few more minutes, the sky darkens and she starts crying with me. I smile as I look up, perhaps this is my mother's way of joining me. It starts as a soft drizzle and does not faze me. But then, it turns into something more. The sound of thunder startles me, quickly turning into an all-knowing chuckle. I put my hand to my chest in a joking manner. "I can't believe you're telling me to leave!"

Ethan shakes his head with sweet laughter as he, too, is getting wet.

"I'll be back tomorrow." I whisper to her with a smile, quickly getting soaked. "And the day after that, and the days after that. Next week too, I swear!" I am greeted with more thunder, and jump to my feet, Ethan following me. "Fine mom, fine." I am hit by a wave of nostalgic banter. I place a swift kiss on top of her wet head stone and hold Ethan's hand, waving goodbye to her. As we're met by more thunder and heavier rain, we start running back to the car, our feet getting wet from jumping in the freshly formed puddles. 

"Come hide here until it passes!" We hear from a distance. I squint my eyes to see a man waving to us from the entrance of a little shop that sells flowers. It seems to be way closer than the parking lot, so Ethan and I quickly make our way there.

Once inside, he closes the door as the warmth of the shop greets us. He tells us to get warm next to the heater and starts making two cups of tea. Wiping the rain and tears from my face, I turn around and walk towards him with the intention of thanking him. I am greeted by curious brown eyes.

Familiar brown eyes.

"You're the cabdriver." I murmur, not believing my eyes. For I believe in fate and coincidence, but I never saw this coming. I thought I'd never see him again.

"You're the psychology student." He replies, his sweet old eyes widening in surprise. Ethan looks between the two of us, rather puzzled but a smile lingering on his lips at our interaction.

The bittersweet memory of it comes right back. "Out of all the places you could have picked, you've chosen to do your work practice in a state prison for men?" he had asked me that day.

I can see in his curious eyes that he wants to ask me if I really did do it. And I decide to answer before he does.

"Yes, sir, I really did go through with it. And I would do it again.

For I found justice, inner peace and my other half when I least expected it, but needed it the most.

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A/N; one last time:

thanks for reading, i hope you enjoyed.
please don't forget to vote & comment, i really enjoy reading every single one of them.

— lyra b.


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