Beauty in the Ashes

I studied her shiny red hair, emerald green eyes, and the dusting of freckles sprinkled across her nose. “Leah,” I gasped as I finally recognized her. I hadn’t seen her since the night of the murders. Okay, that was a lie, I probably had seen her after that but I ignored everything and everybody. I’d retreated into myself and everyone ceased to exist. All that I’d had was the hurt I felt.

“You remember me.” Her smile was small and hesitant. She was slightly afraid of me.

“I do.” I rocked back on my heels at a loss as to what I was supposed to do.

“It’s been a long time,” she commented, clutching her purse.

“Six years,” I confirmed with a nod of my head. “You look good.” Was that an appropriate thing to say?

“Thanks.” A slight blu

sh blossomed across her cheeks. “You look good too. Kyle said you were getting help for the…” She trailed off and swayed back and forth like she was unsure whether or not she should proceed with her statement.

“Substance abuse,” I supplied. “You can say it. It doesn’t hurt my feelings. I was a drug addict and an alcoholic. I own my sins instead of drowning in them.” Yep, I was definitely turning in to Alex. The fucktard had messed with my mind.

“So, you’re doing better?” She asked. Her gaze darted to the ground and I wasn’t sure if it was because she suddenly felt shy or if she really was that afraid of me. I didn’t want her to be scared. I wasn’t the boogeyman.

I nodded, then realized she couldn’t see me, so I said, “Yes. It’ll always be a struggle, but I’m much better.”

“I’m really happy to hear that, Cael.” Her smile was genuine and something about hearing her say my name made sparks tingle through my body. Once upon a time I’d had a crush on this girl. Back then, I’d fucked her, but if things hadn’t ended the way they had with my family I might have married this girl. She was beautiful and sweet. My mom had loved her. That would normally send most guys running from a girl, but everyone loved Leah. She had that kind of sweet and sassy personality that couldn’t help but make you like her.

“Why are you here?” I asked the question that had been bugging me since I saw her.

“Huh?” She lifted a hand to her forehead to block the sun filtering in through the tree branches.

“Why are you here?” I repeated. “At my family’s graves?”

“Oh,” she shook her head, “yeah, that. Of course you’re wondering why I’m here,” she rambled. She was definitely nervous. “Like I said, I talked to Kyle—I ran in to him at the grocery store a few days ago. We got to talking about you and what happened. I…l hadn’t been here since the funeral and I thought I should visit. They were good people and they shouldn’t be forgotten. I brought flowers for them too,” she moved out of the way so I could see. “I got lilies for your mom. They were her favorite, right? And daisies for Cayla. I figured your dad would come back from the dead and haunt my ass if I got him flowers, so I—uh—got a football instead.”

The blush that had been highlighting her cheeks had now spread to her neck and the tops of her breasts.

I was touched by the gesture, but tried not to let it show. “That was nice of you.”

She took careful steps around me and whispered, “I guess I’ll see you around.”

I watched her walk away, itching to call out. When it was almost too late, I yelled, “Leah!”

“Yeah?” She turned around, waiting for me to continue.

I looked at the graves and back at her. I’d walked around town for a while and it was getting late, so I asked, “Would you want to go to lunch…with me?” I don’t know why I tacked on the ‘with me’ part, as if that wasn’t already obvious.

“Oh, um,” she fiddled with the curly strands of her vibrant hair. Finally, she nodded, and said, “Sure.”

I smiled so big that my cheeks hurt. “Great.” I looked at the graves once more. “Would you mind waiting ten minutes?”

“Not at all,” she smiled. God, she had a pretty smile. She was more beautiful now than she had been in high school. Those old feelings were resurfacing and I didn’t know what to make of them. “I’ll be in my car,” she pointed over her shoulder towards the parking lot.

“Wait for me,” I pleaded.

“Always.”

Something about her reply made me think. I’d avoided her like I had everyone else after the murders. I’d assumed I’d never see her again—well, I’d honestly kind of forgotten about her. It was easier not to remember the people from that time of my life. It was a shock seeing her here today, but I was glad.

I turned to the graves and sat on the ground.

“Hey, guys,” I started. “I’m sorry I haven’t come to visit you in a while. I was getting help. I’m much better now. I’ve been working hard to get my life back on track. I’m hoping to open my own art gallery. I haven’t thought of a name yet…maybe something to honor mom and Cayla since both of you were the true artists in the family. I’m trying my best to make you proud. I know you wouldn’t approve of all the shitty things I’ve done in the last few years.” I plucked some of the grass and twisted it between my fingers. “I sold your house. I hope you aren’t angry, but I just couldn’t hang on to it anymore. I couldn’t go back there again and someone else deserves to make memories there. We had some good times in that house and I want that for another family, instead of it being tainted with what happened that night. I’m trying to move on, and while it’s hard, I think I’m doing a pretty damn good job…now, at least. It only took me six years after you died to get my shit figured out,” I chuckled humorlessly. “I want you guys to be proud of me.” Tears pricked my eyes. No more words left my lips as I let the tears fall. I’d said all that I could say.

I didn’t hear Cayla’s voice, in fact I hadn’t heard her since that day at the house. Maybe she had moved on. Or, possibly—okay, most likely—I’d merely hallucinated her voice.