Twenty-Two
Jase
Three days ago I woke up and reached for Celeste, only to find the sheets empty and cold. I don’t know how, but I knew she was gone before I even got out of bed. Before I saw her luggage and clothes and toiletries were gone. Before I found her note. It was as if she left and took a piece of me with her. My heart no longer whole. Ignoring her request not to call or text, I did both. Several times. Until her phone went straight to voicemail, indicating it had been turned off.
Then Skyla woke up and asked where Celeste was. Maybe it was my refusing to admit we were over, or maybe it was that I wanted to prolong my daughter’s heart being shattered into a million pieces the way mine was. But I lied. I told her there was an issue with work and she had to fly back.
We spent most of the day with me showing her around my old stomping grounds and then the rest of it at the pool. The next morning we packed up our stuff, had breakfast, and then headed to the airport to go home. As I was pressing the button to turn my phone off before we entered airport security, my phone lit up with a call from Monica, Amaya’s mom.
“She passed away early this morning,” she said. “She developed an infection and they couldn’t stop it. The funeral will be held the day after tomorrow.”
Without explaining anything to Skyla, I went back to the rental car company and rented the car again. Then, on the way back to the hotel, I called them and booked a room for three more nights. Once we were in our new room, I went out onto the balcony and called my brother and Quinn. They both wanted to fly out immediately, but when Jax checked the flights, there wasn’t one available for a couple days, so they decided it would be best to drive down.
A couple hours after we hung up, Jax called back to let me know he spoke with Killian, who was in the shop with a teammate who was getting some work done. After speaking to his coach, Stephen Harper, Olivia’s dad, he offered to fly them here on their team’s plane. I asked him to thank Killian for me, and told him I would see them when they arrived.
About an hour later, Jax called again to ask why Nick wanted to know if Celeste was flying down with them—you know, because she was back in New York, but everyone in my family thought she was with me. I had to tell him she broke things off and left, which made it feel real and made me realize I needed to tell Skyla, right after I told her that her mother died.
I made it through telling her that Amaya passed away, but she was so upset and confused about her feelings, I didn’t have the heart to tell her Celeste and I were over as well.
Now, it’s the day of the funeral. I’m dressed in a black suit I had to purchase at the mall, and Skyla is dressed in a black dress her grandmother brought over. Sky has asked for Celeste too many times to count. She doesn’t understand why she isn’t here. When you love someone, you’re there for them. Quinn and Rick are sitting in the main room of my hotel room while my brother finishes getting ready in his room. Quinn is doing Sky’s hair for her. I know she wants to say something about Celeste leaving, but she’s at least considerate enough to wait until after the funeral.
“All right, your hair is done,” Quinn tells Skyla, who gives her a small smile.
“Thank you, Aunt Quinn,” she says softly. Skyla mentioned last night that she feels bad she hasn’t cried over her mom. I told her that’s completely normal. Everyone handles their grief in different ways.
There’s a knock on the door, and for a split second I wish it were Celeste on the other side, and that thought makes me realize how easily I would be willing to forgive her. I know she’s just scared. I don’t know why or what happened, but I know she didn’t run because she doesn’t love me or Sky. The problem is, it’s not just me this time around. Now it’s my daughter too, and I have to protect her from being hurt, even if that means letting Celeste go.
I open the door and it’s Jax, dressed in his suit. “Ready to go?” he asks.
“Yep.” We all pile into the SUV they rented when they got here and head to the funeral.
The first part of the service is at Saint Catherine’s church where Amaya’s family are members. The priest will speak and then we’ll drive over to their family plot for the burial. Because of Skyla being family, we sit in the front row for the service, next to Monica and Phil. My family sits behind us. It isn’t until the service ends, and we’re asked to stand and make our way to the burial, that I see her. She’s standing, like everyone else, in the back, and next to her is her mother. I never saw her that day we went to check on her, but today, standing next to Celeste, she looks good. Like a slightly older version of her daughter. Both with wavy brown hair, olive skin, and slim yet toned bodies. Both wearing black dresses. Celeste’s eyes meet mine and her lips curl slightly into a nervous smile.