5

35

BODI

Formostofmy life, I’ve been in control of my life, my mind, and my body. I know what to eat to stay fit. I know how to function to keep my mind sharp. I know how to run my business. But for the last six days, I don’t know shit. My mind has been living in this constant fog and every muscle in my body feels numb. When I walked down the street this morning, I wondered if I would feel anything if I got hit by a car, because after my dad died, my senses seem to have died with him.

I sigh, looking at the line of people who are here to pay their respects for my father while I stand next to his casket like a fucking zombie. My hands stay folded in front of my body, my gaze vacant as I let my thoughts drift me away. The ceremony was nice, or so I have been told about six times now. I didn’t listen to a thing. I just stared at the stand, failing at registering a word everyone was saying.

I close my eyes when I feel a figure coming to stand beside me, slamming his hand on my back in a friendly gesture. I don’t have to look to know who it is.

“Thank you for being here.”

“Of course,” Jensen replies. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine.” It’s the only word that pops into mind that doesn’t feel like a complete lie. For the last few days, I’ve been floating in purgatory, not feeling bad, not feeling good. Fine seems like the perfect word to describe it, but Jensen silently disagrees as I hear him exhale loudly.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to see who it is.

Kayla.

She’s been calling me every day since my dad died. I’ve ignored her every single time. My heart is dying to pick up, knowing she’s the only one who can make me feel anything right now, but it’s also what I fear the most. I need to keep my distance.

I see how Jensen shakes his head from the corner of my eye.

“Why are you not answering your phone, man?” The tone in his voice is filled with disappointment, sounding exactly like the voice in my head. The one that’s asking me what the fuck I’m going to do self-loathing, and the one that’s scoffing at me, telling me I’m a moron. But the wall of fear around my heart is preventing me from picking up that phone and begging her to come back to me. It’s too strong to break down, even if I did make an effort.

“I don’t want her pity,” I grunt.

“I thought you two were friends.”

“We were.” In a short period, Kayla became my best friend, but before I realized, I blinked and she was so much more. She was everything I wanted and everything I feared.

“Bodi,” Jensen says my name with reprimand, contempt audible in every letter.

“It’s over, Jensen,” I hiss. The last thing I need is to make a scene at my father’s funeral, but him bringing up Kayla has me quickly raging like a madman.

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“Yes. It does,” I bark at him before I cut the conversation short and reach out my hand to one of my father’s childhood friends. “Brent, thank you for coming.”

Brent takes my head, shooting me a coy smile. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Bodi. Your father was a great man.”

“He was.” I hold Brent’s hand in a tight grip while Jensen flies beside me, walking out of the venue, and I suck in a relieved breath. Good. I don’t need his shit right now. I just want to get through today so everyone can fuck off to their own lives again.

Including me.

“Are you okay, kid?” I stop staring out of the window of the reception after the funeral, to turn my head to my uncle. The resemblance between my father and him is striking, and every single time today it has made my heart stop for a moment. He possesses the same green eyes and chiseled jaw, and even his voice sounds as warming as my father’s once was.

“I’ll be fine, Lucas.” I offer my uncle a smile with my hands tucked into my pants.

“You can fool the world, but you can’t fool me, Bodi. I know you too well.”

I fix my gaze outside again, staring at the birds that are enjoying the spring sun like all is well in the world, ignoring his comment. Nothing is well in the world. Or maybe it is. Maybe this is exactly how life should be and I just need adjustment. Who the fuck knows at this point. All I know is that I feel like a stranger in my own life.

“Thanks for coming,” I say, trying to change the subject.

“He’s my brother.” He shrugs, then grabs my shoulder. He presses his fingers into my skin as if he wants to make sure I’m listening. “You’re not alone, Bodi.”

Then why does it feel like I am? Why does it feel like I’m standing in a wheat field with not a soul in sight, no one to hear me as I scream at the top of my lungs? I try to swallow away the tightness in my throat to say something. Anything. But when it doesn’t work, I just nod, hoping my uncle will let it go.

“Do you need help with anything?”

“I got it covered.” By covered, I mean I hired a company to clean out his room at the Peartree while I wait for my father’s lawyer to sort out the last things that come with this death.

“Why don’t you come stay with me for a while? We can go fishing like the old days.” I know he’s trying to comfort me, but I don’t want to reminisce about the past. It only makes it more painful. That’s all that I have left from my dad; the past. It’s filled with memories that will never compare to the real deal and they feel like a waste of emotion.

“Maybe. Are you flying back tonight?” Deflecting, it’s what I’ve become a star at and, to my surprise, everyone lets me get away with it. Probably because they all feel sorry for me. I can hear it in every single word they say.

Poor little Bodi.

Poor little orphan boy.

Which is fucking stupid because I’m a grown ass man. I own a multi-million-dollar company. I’m set for life. But inside I feel like a lost little boy, roaming the streets in loneliness.

“Yeah.” Lucas nods. “He’d be really proud of you, Bodi.”

“I know.” I don’t, but I’ve learned in the last week that it’s easier to just give the words they want to hear. To tell them what they want in order for them to leave me alone.

“I’ll call you in a few days.” He slaps my back. “Don’t be a stranger. Come to Maine.”

“I’ll think about it.”