Chapter 211 by TheOptimisticDuck
What's next?
Epilogue - Three Months Later
The world is quiet here.
You sit on the stone bench, feeling the gentle breeze wash over you. It smells of oak and damp earth and pine resin, and you take a long breath in, letting the scent fill your lungs.
The long, jagged scar on your leg twinges, but not painfully. Maybe it’s glad to be out in the sunshine, too.
Then there’s a rustling from behind, and a scent you’d recognise anywhere.
‘Hey,’ you say, as Emma approaches. She’s wearing a plain black jacket and skirt, and she almost looks like a shadow passing under the trees.
‘Hey,’ Emma echoes, stepping over the rocks bordering the path and sitting down beside you. For a moment, neither of you speak.
‘How was the funeral?’
Emma almost seems to relax, like she was afraid you wouldn’t ask. ‘Good,’ she says softly. ‘Well, as good as funerals ever are, I suppose. But it was a nice ceremony – none of his new friends came, just people he’d grown up with here in Oxford. His father gave a short speech, and they read some lovely poems. Then they buried him next to his best friend.’
You nod, taking all that in.
‘I thought it’d feel all wrong. Just… being there, sitting there, you know?’ Emma looks up at you anxiously. ‘But then, when they started showing pictures… I remembered him. The way he was before. And I remembered what he was like at the end, but it was as though it was two separate people, if that makes sense. The boy I met here and the man he turned into. And I could keep them apart in my head. I think that’s for the best, to be honest. I don’t think they’d have liked each other very much.’
You want to reach out and touch her, but you don’t want to pierce this moment.
‘Anyway…’ Emma swings her legs under the bench. ‘I know you must be sick of hearing about him. And I know you never knew him or Lily before all the bad stuff, and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to deal with everything. But I just wanted to say… I think it’s over. I’ve made my peace with it. And I hope he’s at peace, now, too.’
You do take her hand, now, and Emma squeezes it tightly. Her slim fingers feel even more delicate than usual in yours.
‘I think I understand,’ you say quietly, stroking her hand. ‘You loved him, and that doesn’t go away. It leaves its mark on you. People leave their mark on you. You don’t forget the ones who get inside your heart.’
Emma nods silently. Then she looks up at you with those clear brown eyes.
‘You lost someone once, didn’t you? I was always afraid to ask, but… I can tell. I can see it in your eyes.’
Who did you lose?
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Updated on Dec 18, 2019
by TheOptimisticDuck
Created on Sep 7, 2018
by TheOptimisticDuck
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