Promise Me

The pretty exterior does nothing to dull my inner pain, but I guess the warm summer day is better than rain.

As some unseen device lowers Mason’s casket into the ground, I cling to a memory of the two of us lying on towels at Big Foot Beach State Park, laughing as we tried to sculpt sand castles that kept collapsing, but really we didn’t care because we were content just hanging out together.

When the casket is released, a whimper slips through my pressed lips. I can’t imagine what his parents are going through right now. Vaughn squeezes my hand. He hasn’t let go of it the entire time we’ve been at the cemetery. He’s kept me standing when more than once I’ve wanted to crawl.

Mom takes my other hand, laces our fingers together. If not for these two people on either side of me, I’m not sure I would have been brave enough to remain here.

Mason’s passing has drawn a huge crowd to pay their condolences. Practically everyone in our small town knows Carrie and Brian, knows what happened that tragic night. Nobody’s blatantly pointing or shooting me dirty looks, but I once again feel like a pariah.

My gaze lands on Sarah standing beside Davis. They got engaged a few weeks ago, and as happy as I am for them, I know we’ll never be friends again. I think that makes me normal. Beside Sarah is Taylor. Taylor was the gossip queen in high school, and judging by the rumors she shared during our brief conversation, still is. Next to her is Willow Baker. Jim’s daughter can’t wait for law school and definitely wants to connect there. I simply nodded in response, grateful when another friend interrupted us in order to meet Vaughn.

I take that back. I’m grateful Vaughn is with me, but not thrilled with the attention he’s garnering. The people my parents’ age aren’t interested in him, but Mason’s and my friends from high school are an entirely different matter. Glancing across the burial site, they’re huddled together and trying to covertly snap pictures of Vaughn with their cell phones. Prior to the service, when I’d made the effort to say hello to everyone, the overwhelming response had been excitement at meeting the guy from the magazine ads and music videos.

This is a funeral. Honoring Mason and expressing sympathy to his family should be top priority. Instead, Vaughn is a distraction I didn’t think about. The hairs on the back of my neck rise. I look up and catch Carrie’s eye. As expected, grief pulls at the lines of her face, but what isn’t expected is the irritation. She cuts a glance to mine and Mason’s old friends, then back to me. The message is clear—the twenty-somethings are more interested in Vaughn and my relationship than paying respects to her son. Her displeasure hits me like a punch in the throat.

“Hey,” Vaughn whispers in my ear.

I turn my head to look up at him.

“You all right?”

“I’ve been better.”

He brushes his thumb over my cheek. “Have I mentioned how strong you are? How brave? You’re here today when most people in your shoes probably would have chosen not to attend.”

“Thanks for saying that.”

“It’s the truth.”

As much as I want to forget this day, I won’t. I’ll remember the way Vaughn took my sadness and softened its edges with tenderness. I’ll remember how hard it was to keep my heart closed off when he understood it so well. He knows what it feels like to lose someone, and while my love for Mason and Vaughn’s love for his sister are very different, the experience of loss forms another bond between us.

“You won’t mind if I remind you a few more times, will you?”

“No.” How could I? It’s not lip service. His sincerity is tangible.

The moment the burial concludes, I tune out the rampant whispers from my peers and approach Carrie and Brian to apologize for any disturbance Vaughn and I have caused this morning.

Carrie doesn’t mince words. She asks us to leave. It’s crushing and expected at the same time. I fight back tears when I once again give her my condolences.

My legs shake as I say good-bye to my parents, telling them there’s no need for them to rush. I’ll see Vaughn off and then meet them at home.

“I’m really sorry my being here caused a problem,” Vaughn says. He wraps his arm around me, bringing me close to his side. I hear and feel his misery. It wasn’t his intention to upset anyone. I know that.

I also know I can’t keep doing this. “Me, too,” I say, sorry that when I say good-bye to him this time, I will stand by it for both our sakes.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Vaughn

People mill around in the distance, talking in small groups or slowly making their way to their cars and saying the kinds of things people say at times like this. “Such a beautiful service,” or “He’s at peace now.” Yes, and hopefully, but my guess is funerals are for the living rather than the deceased. I know the person I’m most concerned about is standing right in front of me, looking pale and tired.

I don’t want to add to Kendall’s burden. I didn’t come all this way to cause more stress during one of the most difficult times in her life. I sure as hell didn’t intend to turn a memorial service into a fucking photo op and watch a grieving mother hold Kendall accountable for the bad behavior of grown-ass adults who can’t keep their curiosity in check during a funeral for one of their own. But that’s how it went down, and now the Town Car’s engine idles in time to the seconds ticking off in my mind, reminding me I’m running out of chances to turn “for now” into “for keeps.” Hell, I don’t even know if she’s still coming back to California.

I wrap my arms around her and slowly pull her close until our bodies touch. She doesn’t resist, but she holds herself stiff for a moment, then sighs and relaxes into me. Her arms link around my waist and tighten in a quick, almost desperate hug. “Thank you for being here. I don’t know how I would have made it through without you, but…”

No buts. I tighten my arms when she tries to ease away. “You would have made it through the same way you made it through everything that came before this—with honesty and courage.” Before she can argue I kiss her. A little hard, a little possessive, because I need to make sure she feels the truth of my next words. “But here’s the thing. I want to be with you. Not just for this trying time, but for all the times. It’s kind of a permanent thing. My heart is yours. I need you to know that.”

She pales further, which I didn’t think was possible, and shakes her head. So much for not adding to her stress.