I Never Let You Go (I Never 3)

“He’s gone.” Her voice trembled.

I shook my head and ran my fingers through my hair, yanking on the ends. “No, you’re wrong. You’re wrong, Kels. I just took him and Mom to the airport this morning. He can’t be—”

I heard a loud bang like the phone falling to the floor and my sister’s loud sobs.

“Kels? Kelsey!” I shouted into the phone.

There was some shuffling around on the phone before a deep voice spoke that I recognized to be Chase’s. “Finn? Are you still there?”

“Chase, what the fuck is going on? Tell me that my sister’s wrong. That my dad’s not—” I couldn’t even bring myself to say it.

“I wish I could.” I heard the sadness in his voice, and I knew this wasn’t some sick joke. “The plane had to make an emergency landing in Chicago. By the time they got to the hospital, it was too late.”

My stomach churned, and I reached the kitchen sink just in time to release all the contents of my stomach. Fuck. I was at a loss for words. My dad was…dead.

“Your mom needs someone to meet her in Chicago while they prepare his body to be transferred back here.”

“I’ll be on the next flight out. How’s my mom doing?” That was a dumb question. She just lost her husband—how the fuck did I think she was doing? I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to imagine what it would feel like to have to say goodbye to Lauren forever, and it’d been years since she’d been in my life. My stomach threatened to turn on me again, but I managed to keep it down.

“She’s a mess. We were supposed to pick them up from the airport soon. Fuck!” My sister’s sobs got louder, and I could hear Chase whisper soothing words to her. “It’ll be okay, baby. It’ll be okay. I’m right here.”

How could it be okay though? I wasn’t ready for this. My dad was my hero, always there for me, and the greatest man I knew. I had just spent the weekend with my parents, laughing and joking with them, and now my dad was just gone, forever.

“Chase, thank you.”

“Yeah” was all he said back. There was an unspoken understanding that the thank-you was for being there to hold my sister when I couldn’t. But who was there to keep me together? What I wouldn’t give to hear the comfort of Lauren’s voice, to have her here while I faced my new reality. I couldn’t do this alone, but I had to.

“I’ll be in touch with flight info.” I disconnected the call as I slid down the wall to the floor with my legs pulled to my chest and sobbed.

When I finally finish sharing, the ache in my head is still there, but the weight on my shoulders has lightened. Lauren has also scooted closer to me on the couch. Our thighs are almost touching, and her hand is covering mine.

We sit there in silence; her thumb is swirling circles along my skin in a calming motion.

“So, I’m still curious as to how you ended up here?”

More pieces of last night begin to come back to me.

“Come on. Let’s get you home, what do you say?”

“Home. There’s only one place I consider home.”

That explains how I got here versus my sister’s house, but do I tell Lauren that? Honesty is the least I owe her for taking care of me.

“I guess I was in a bad place, and there was only one person I could think of that might be able to heal the pain.”

Her thumb stops moving against my skin, and I worry that she will back up out of my grasp and tell me to get out for my honesty; instead, she surprises me.

“Do you want some coffee?” she asks politely, trying to hide the tears she is wiping away.

I nod. “Coffee sounds great.”

She walks into the kitchen. I stand and look around the room. When I was first at her place helping with the kitchen sink, I didn’t get a chance to really look around. I see photos on the walls of her, Kate, Kyler, and his new wife, along with others I recall from the wedding.

Something catches my eye, and I walk to the other side of the room. How did I not notice this of all things the last I was here? I run my hands over the old wooden bookshelf, and my heart squeezes. I had made her this bookshelf. It was the very first project I made for her, and I can remember moving it into our shared apartment.

I wonder when she moved out of there and into this place.

Lauren has always loved books, and she needed a place to house her collection. Of course, back then, there were fewer books and more frames holding the memories of our own love story. I look at the books on the shelves, and I notice there are a lot of Belle Willis books. I pick one up and read the back of it. Hmm, a book about an MMA fighter falling for a baker. Interesting.