I Have Lived and I Have Loved - Willow Winters Page 0,101

prom king.”

She lifted her hand and sat back. She was getting comfortable again. “Were you prom queen?”

I shook my head. “Cora was.”

“And you were happy for her?”

I moved my head in the other direction, up and down this time. “Yes. She deserved it. She’s one of the most popular girls now.”

“If I’m remembering correctly, you had a part in that, didn’t you? You took her under your wing, like Willow did with you. Am I right?”

God. My throat was searing.

It was never going to go away. I realized it then.

I looked at her, meeting her gaze, and the words choked out of me. “I’m never going to fully heal, am I?”

The sadness in her eyes answered me, but she said, “Losing a twin is like losing a mother, or a father, or a soul mate. I can only imagine that it would be worse in some ways. So no, Mackenzie. I think it’s a hole you’ll feel for the rest of your life.” Her lips pressed together, and she scooted close again, leaning down so she was almost touching my knees. “I don’t think this last year was about you healing or getting over Willow’s death. I think it was about learning to cope, and I think you’ve done a remarkable job.”

But she didn’t know.

No one knew.

Except Willow.

“You wanted to talk about Willow’s suicide note?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. I had brought it up, not her. That wasn’t how this went.

“Yeah. I wanted to talk to you about it at our last few sessions, but you seemed so much better when you came in, so I didn’t push.” Her head inclined toward me. “Do you want to talk about it today?”

No. But I had to. “Willow never talked about feeling trapped or hopeless. She never talked about suicide, but those are some of the signs.”

“There are others, but yes. The list you mentioned are some of the warning signs, if people are looking for them, but sometimes, it’s really hard to see everything the way it is, or for what it is. Your parents were worried about your sister, but they were worried about you too. Moving right before your senior year can be upsetting for any teenage girl. But Mackenzie, you can’t beat yourself up for not seeing the signs.”

I shook my head. “Willow never talked about that.”

“Maybe not, but it was what she was feeling. She talked about being invisible, feeling worthless, of not being able to compare to her siblings. I can tell you that even if she didn’t say the words, she was feeling all of those things.”

Naomi’s tone shifted, and she frowned, looking at the ground for a moment. “I’m confused about the direction of this conversation. It seems as if you don’t believe your sister’s feelings. It was all in the suicide note.” She took my hand again. There was usually a no-contact policy with Naomi. She didn’t even like hugs, which I was fine with. I liked touching Ryan, and I liked hugging Robbie, but that was it. No matter my progress over the year, I still held back with my parents and everyone else. It wasn’t that I didn’t love them or like them; it was just me. It’d been me since Willow died.

I changed that day.

Everything I had been before June twenty-ninth was wiped clean. When I lay down beside Willow, it was as if she took my pain; she took my burdens.

I felt it pressing on me. I knew I would share, but before I did, I needed to make sure Naomi understood.

I murmured again, “She never said anything. Not about that.”

She scooted even closer. “But you are talking. You are saying something.”

Yeah . . .

“I’m fine,” I told her.

“No, I know—”

She didn’t. I had to make sure she did. “Willow died, and I lived. I laugh. I love. I feel happiness, but this year was so hard. I wanted to be with her at times, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I had Robbie depending on me. My parents needed me. And I have Ryan. I love him, and I know we’ll be fine. We’ll be happy. I mean, yeah, we’ll have problems, and we’ll struggle. Everyone does. Every relationship has ups and down, but we’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.”

“I know.” But she still frowned, struggling to figure out what I was telling her.

“I’m not arguing with you about what Willow felt. I know she was hurting. I just didn’t know how much she was hurting, and I wish—”

My