Funerals happen a lot quicker than I imagined they would. This is the first time I've been at the helm of planning one and I didn't realize I'd be expected to make sensible and coherent decisions while drowning in an ocean of grief. I thought I'd have more time to come to terms with the fact my father has passed. I thought I'd wake up from this nightmare by now.To make matters worse, Seth is in Vegas. His schedule didn't allow a trip back to Portland for Dad's funeral. He demanded the MMAC approve his request for a twenty-four-hour leave, but they declined it because Dad wasn't immediate family. The championship fight is tomorrow night and it's a risk they can't take. And I get it. It just sucks. He's been so busy we've barely spoken. He calls me after midnight every night, but we fall asleep before the conversation goes anywhere. I miss him."Shit," I swear as the zipper of my dress eludes me for the millionth time.It sits between my shoulder blades, where I can't reach, taunting me
After the funeral, Mom invites over as many people as she can fit into her home for refreshments. They come in droves and I'm too tired to entertain, but I do it anyway. I accept condolences and hugs with grace and enthusiasm and I mingle with relatives I haven't seen since I was a child, relatives who live on the other side of the country. I keep Seth in my peripheral the whole time, wanting nothing more than to be spending this time with him since he flew all this way on the eve of his championship match. I want his touch, his comfort, and maybe that's selfish, but after the day I've had...I just want to be coddled. Chase keeps Seth out of my reach and insists on interrogating him under the guise of friendly conversation. I've tried to save him, but I can barely move a foot before I'm swept up by someone else. I wonder if Seth thinks I'm avoiding him, or can he feel my aura pining for his? Can he feel every cell in my being pushing against my skin, willing me in his direction? I hop
"What are you doing out here?" I ask. How long has he been out here? Blush gathers in my cheeks at the thought of him hearing the things I said about him. About us."Hiding from Darryl." Seth lowers his hands and straightens. The way he holds himself with such confidence is breathtaking. "Saving you from your asshole ex. Again." I sigh and turn toward the swing. I sit down on it and pat the space beside me. Seth looks up at the worn branch while shrugging out of his jacket. "That's not going to hold me." I glance up, then at Seth. If he weighs every bit of the two-hundred pounds Chase claims he does, then I suppose it won't. I shift into the middle of the plank as Seth steps forward and drapes his jacket over my shoulders. The fabric envelops me and I melt into its warmth, into its crisp citrus and sandalwood scents. "I saw him follow you out here," Seth says, rolling up the sleeves of his fitted, black formal shirt. Each twist of the fabric reveals an inch of, perfect ropy muscle
I startle, sitting upright on the couch as the T.V. changes from the live stream loading screen to the emerald exterior of Las Vegas's MGM Grand. "Shhhh!" I shush Chase mid-story about some girl he met when he was stationed in Afghanistan by clamping my palm over his face and pushing him away. I've already heard the story twice. He's in love with her but doesn't know it. "It's starting!" On the screen, cars zip by, and people flood the streets, milling about like ants. "It's an eight-man fighting format," the commentator says as the camera phases into the arena. "The winner receives one hundred thousand dollars, a professional contract with the MMAC, and the title of Amateur Champion."They continue to discuss the layout of the championship and I tune it out. I'm too distracted by the grandiosity of it all as the camera pans over tens of thousands of roaring people, seated around the cage, ready for the fight. "It's a big deal, isn't it?" Chase muses between chomps of buttered popc
With a shake of his arms, Seth tilts his head to the ceiling, exposing the thick column of his throat, and he closes his eyes. His chest falls as he lets out a long, slow breath. What I wouldn't give to know what he's thinking. Is he nervous? Scared? Neither?A small eternity later, the referee calls both the men to the middle of the ring. He demands a good, clean fight, then sends them back to their corner. With a clap of his hands, the fight begins.Seth plays it cool, each step premeditated and predatory. Don, however, goes in guns blazing. Shooting forward, and swallowing up the distance, Don swings hard and fast, his fists flying through the air like sledgehammers. He wants to make sure that, if he connects, Seth won't get back up.I yank my blanket from Chase and pull it up to my chin. I clench my teeth together. My fingers twitch with the urge to hide under the blanket until it's over, but I told Seth I'd watch the fight.And I want to watch it......but only if Don gets what he
I sit in my car outside Mom's house, gripping my steering. I stare at the quaint little home nestled somewhere in the middle of Sparrow Road and dread burrows deep. If I walk through those doors, I'll be alone in the house for the first time since Dad's death. The thought is isolating.Chase left for Pakistan this morning and Mom is spending alone time in a hideaway cabin in the hills. The house will be quiet. And I'll be alone.Loneliness has been the theme of my life for more days than I can count. I miss Dad. I miss Seth. It gets harder to pin Seth down with a phone call with every passing day. He calls me and I miss it. I call him back and he misses it. By the time we catch each other, he's exhausted and sleeping on the other end of the line before I can ask him how he is. He asks me to join him in every city he lands in, but I haven't had the heart to leave Mom alone, especially now Chase is gone.Releasing the wheel, I sit back against my seat with a sigh. The vermilion afternoon
I push away from the heavy bag with a sigh, then drag an inhale in through my nose. My lungs burn, and my arms feel like stones. I pluck the towel from my shoulder and swipe it over my face. I've been slamming my fists into this bag of sand for the last hour, waiting for Olivia to finish cleaning the gym. There's no one left, the doors are locked, the blinds drawn, but she insists on having everything in top shape for when it opens in the morning.I can't say I don't enjoy watching her walk around the place with a determined little pout on her lips, because I do. I enjoy it so damn much.Blowing air from my lips, I lean against the ropes of the boxing ring. She does another round, picking up a missed towel here and there. I track her every step, my shorts growing tighter every time she bends over. Eventually, she enters my area of the gym.She doesn't pay me any attention.And it drives me crazy."Olivia," I call out, and she whips her head in my direction, her perfect, long hair whirl
FROM: BLADE 7:23 P.M.Hey babe can't make dinner.Going out with the boys. Don't wait up. X-I clench my phone in my fist and slide my teeth together. Great, just great. Opening my black handbag, I toss the phone inside and glance around the room, a defeated exhale on my lips. I blink, my eyes stinging with frustration. Pooling tears threaten to liquify my mascara as thick humiliation seeps through my veins. I hate him. I hate him so much. "Excuse me, ma'am. Are you ready to order?" I startle, my attention snapping to the young waiter at my side. He taps his pen against his notepad with his long, slender fingers, his impatience a symphony echoing in my ears. I blink at him, trying to pinpoint why his boyish face, crooked nose, and long, blond hair looks so familiar-oh. Dread hurtles through me, its sharp tendrils burrowing deep in my chest. I've seen him before. He's the waiter assigned to my table every time Blade has stood me up at this God-forsaken restaurant.I must look patheti
I push away from the heavy bag with a sigh, then drag an inhale in through my nose. My lungs burn, and my arms feel like stones. I pluck the towel from my shoulder and swipe it over my face. I've been slamming my fists into this bag of sand for the last hour, waiting for Olivia to finish cleaning the gym. There's no one left, the doors are locked, the blinds drawn, but she insists on having everything in top shape for when it opens in the morning.I can't say I don't enjoy watching her walk around the place with a determined little pout on her lips, because I do. I enjoy it so damn much.Blowing air from my lips, I lean against the ropes of the boxing ring. She does another round, picking up a missed towel here and there. I track her every step, my shorts growing tighter every time she bends over. Eventually, she enters my area of the gym.She doesn't pay me any attention.And it drives me crazy."Olivia," I call out, and she whips her head in my direction, her perfect, long hair whirl
I sit in my car outside Mom's house, gripping my steering. I stare at the quaint little home nestled somewhere in the middle of Sparrow Road and dread burrows deep. If I walk through those doors, I'll be alone in the house for the first time since Dad's death. The thought is isolating.Chase left for Pakistan this morning and Mom is spending alone time in a hideaway cabin in the hills. The house will be quiet. And I'll be alone.Loneliness has been the theme of my life for more days than I can count. I miss Dad. I miss Seth. It gets harder to pin Seth down with a phone call with every passing day. He calls me and I miss it. I call him back and he misses it. By the time we catch each other, he's exhausted and sleeping on the other end of the line before I can ask him how he is. He asks me to join him in every city he lands in, but I haven't had the heart to leave Mom alone, especially now Chase is gone.Releasing the wheel, I sit back against my seat with a sigh. The vermilion afternoon
With a shake of his arms, Seth tilts his head to the ceiling, exposing the thick column of his throat, and he closes his eyes. His chest falls as he lets out a long, slow breath. What I wouldn't give to know what he's thinking. Is he nervous? Scared? Neither?A small eternity later, the referee calls both the men to the middle of the ring. He demands a good, clean fight, then sends them back to their corner. With a clap of his hands, the fight begins.Seth plays it cool, each step premeditated and predatory. Don, however, goes in guns blazing. Shooting forward, and swallowing up the distance, Don swings hard and fast, his fists flying through the air like sledgehammers. He wants to make sure that, if he connects, Seth won't get back up.I yank my blanket from Chase and pull it up to my chin. I clench my teeth together. My fingers twitch with the urge to hide under the blanket until it's over, but I told Seth I'd watch the fight.And I want to watch it......but only if Don gets what he
I startle, sitting upright on the couch as the T.V. changes from the live stream loading screen to the emerald exterior of Las Vegas's MGM Grand. "Shhhh!" I shush Chase mid-story about some girl he met when he was stationed in Afghanistan by clamping my palm over his face and pushing him away. I've already heard the story twice. He's in love with her but doesn't know it. "It's starting!" On the screen, cars zip by, and people flood the streets, milling about like ants. "It's an eight-man fighting format," the commentator says as the camera phases into the arena. "The winner receives one hundred thousand dollars, a professional contract with the MMAC, and the title of Amateur Champion."They continue to discuss the layout of the championship and I tune it out. I'm too distracted by the grandiosity of it all as the camera pans over tens of thousands of roaring people, seated around the cage, ready for the fight. "It's a big deal, isn't it?" Chase muses between chomps of buttered popc
"What are you doing out here?" I ask. How long has he been out here? Blush gathers in my cheeks at the thought of him hearing the things I said about him. About us."Hiding from Darryl." Seth lowers his hands and straightens. The way he holds himself with such confidence is breathtaking. "Saving you from your asshole ex. Again." I sigh and turn toward the swing. I sit down on it and pat the space beside me. Seth looks up at the worn branch while shrugging out of his jacket. "That's not going to hold me." I glance up, then at Seth. If he weighs every bit of the two-hundred pounds Chase claims he does, then I suppose it won't. I shift into the middle of the plank as Seth steps forward and drapes his jacket over my shoulders. The fabric envelops me and I melt into its warmth, into its crisp citrus and sandalwood scents. "I saw him follow you out here," Seth says, rolling up the sleeves of his fitted, black formal shirt. Each twist of the fabric reveals an inch of, perfect ropy muscle
After the funeral, Mom invites over as many people as she can fit into her home for refreshments. They come in droves and I'm too tired to entertain, but I do it anyway. I accept condolences and hugs with grace and enthusiasm and I mingle with relatives I haven't seen since I was a child, relatives who live on the other side of the country. I keep Seth in my peripheral the whole time, wanting nothing more than to be spending this time with him since he flew all this way on the eve of his championship match. I want his touch, his comfort, and maybe that's selfish, but after the day I've had...I just want to be coddled. Chase keeps Seth out of my reach and insists on interrogating him under the guise of friendly conversation. I've tried to save him, but I can barely move a foot before I'm swept up by someone else. I wonder if Seth thinks I'm avoiding him, or can he feel my aura pining for his? Can he feel every cell in my being pushing against my skin, willing me in his direction? I hop
Funerals happen a lot quicker than I imagined they would. This is the first time I've been at the helm of planning one and I didn't realize I'd be expected to make sensible and coherent decisions while drowning in an ocean of grief. I thought I'd have more time to come to terms with the fact my father has passed. I thought I'd wake up from this nightmare by now.To make matters worse, Seth is in Vegas. His schedule didn't allow a trip back to Portland for Dad's funeral. He demanded the MMAC approve his request for a twenty-four-hour leave, but they declined it because Dad wasn't immediate family. The championship fight is tomorrow night and it's a risk they can't take. And I get it. It just sucks. He's been so busy we've barely spoken. He calls me after midnight every night, but we fall asleep before the conversation goes anywhere. I miss him."Shit," I swear as the zipper of my dress eludes me for the millionth time.It sits between my shoulder blades, where I can't reach, taunting me
We pull up outside my parents' home and I cast my gaze over the property. It looks exactly as it did when I left Portland and I don't know why that surprises me. I don't know why I expected it to be any different. The glow of the sitting room light filters through the cracks in the curtains and I suck air deep into my lungs. Mom's awake.Dad's truck sits in the drive and sticks me like a knife in the heart. I glance at Selena who's looking at it too. She clears her throat, casting her attention to the road."Should I come with?"I nod, not wanting to be left alone with the tornado of emotion undoubtedly waiting for me on the other side of the front door. "Yeah, come with me."We exit the car and make our way to the front porch, Selena dragging my suitcase behind us. My palms grow clammy with every step, my heart racing. What's waiting for me inside? I grab Selena's hand and thread my fingers through hers. She wraps her arm across her body and holds the inside of my elbow. I lean on her
I lie on the bed for a while, thinking about my brother, Chase. Does he even know? Will he have time to attend his father's funeral? I think about it for hours, it feels like. In and out of focus, of exhaustion, of grief, I remain on the bed, my mind too tired to process whether or not I've slept. I must have because the next voice I hear zipping up the stairs is female."Where is she?" Shoes hit the stairs and I shoot up in bed as Selena tears through the door, her pretty face displaying every thread of grief she feels. "Olivia?"Seeing her brings memories flooding back and I burst into tears all over again. Selena rushes over to the bed and climbs on, drawing me into her hoodie-clad arms. We fall against the mattress, our limbs intertwined."I can't believe it." She sniffles, her chest vibrating as she combs her fingers through my hair. "I can't believe it, O.""He's gone," I sob. "And I don't know what I'm supposed to do.""You'll know once you get home." She holds me for a while lo