alone. At least I won’t break anyone’s heart when I do.
Angel, I’m sorry.
Lexi
Today is the day we say goodbye to Justin. No matter what he did, I will still be there today for Tyler, even if he doesn’t want me there. Justin’s slate doesn’t get wiped clean because he’s dead, but his father is the love of my life. And whether he knows it or not, he needs me, even if it’s just to understand or meet his eyes for one moment.
Even if I’ve cried all week since we broke up. Since he took my heart and broke it so effortlessly. I thought he was just in pain, but he hasn’t reached out since, and with each passing day, I feel the finality of the end of our relationship.
I thought he was my future, my forever, when I never really expected to find one. He loves—loved me for me. Supported me. He was kind and caring, so fucking exciting, but maybe our relationship started for a bad reason, so ending it for a bad reason makes sense.
Staring at myself in the mirror, I tug down the calf-length, tight black dress. It clings to my curves with long sleeves and a slight V-neck. I add a black cardigan and some heels. My makeup is done, and my hair pushed back in a chignon at the base of my neck.
My eyes are puffy and red, but I can’t help that. I cried in the shower this morning. My heart was aching so much, I couldn’t breathe, so I fell to my knees and rocked back and forth, trying to suck in air. Trying to numb the physical aches from my broken heart.
I want to curl in a ball and cry it all out, but I can’t, because I still love him. Today is the worst day for him, so even if he hates me for it, gets mad or tells me to leave, I’m going, because he’s my Tyler…
My daddy.
The funeral is held at the little local church, set out of the city between rolling fields. The sun shines down in the church, which has a cottage feeling to it. I have to walk through a small brown gate and stone archway crawling with flowers, across an old cobblestone path, and up to the big, old, brown double doors of the building, which provide a glimpse into the past. The church itself is old grey brick, with a high, arched, stained glass window above the door and set around it.
There is a leaflet passed out as we enter with Justin’s picture and an epitaph. Inside the church, there are large stone arches featuring crosses and old carved tombs with dates and names on them. In between are two rows of pews, which are an old, wooden style with the cushions to kneel on hooked on the back of the pew in front.
At the back of the church is a table with a collection plate and more leaflets for Justin. There is no coffin or body here—it’s probably already in the ground—but everyone is dressed in black and the church is very full.
I stand there awkwardly, my fists clenched around the leaflet and my bag, unsure where to go. Where to sit. I spot Tyler at the front, his back rounded where he sits on the first pew. His black suit stretches across his built shoulders, his dark head is bowed, and there is no one else around him. He looks so alone, my heart cracks. I want to reach for him, to comfort him, but I don’t think he would want me to. Tears fill my eyes, my stomach rolls, and my heart bleeds. I’m unable to look away from him, the man I love.
The man who broke my heart.
But in here, his own lies in tatters, and no matter how everything went down, it pains me to see him hurting.
Hurting and alone.
Just then, I feel a touch on my elbow, and I spin around to meet Tyler’s dad’s sad eyes. He’s in a black suit, and his face is drawn. He looks older today. His wife is at his side in a black dress similar to mine. When I meet his gaze, he smiles at me softly. “Want to sit with us?”
I lick my lips and look at Tyler and then his dad, his eyes filled with a thousand unspoken words. He seems to understand because he nods. “I will sit with him so he isn’t alone. Please know you are