A Heart as Hard as This

Prologue

Richelle's Perspective:

I'd gone home by myself last night, Noah had needed to see his family, which I couldn't blame him for. His mom loved me, but she missed having him with her, which I understood. It was hard to be away from people you loved.

For me, especially. I didn't have many people, so being without them, having to trust that we'd see each other again after all I'd gone through... was torchure. I hated every moment of it, every single time it had to happen. I was hating it right now.

I rolled slowly out of my bed, having a difficult time finding true motivation for where I was about to go. I knew that today would again, be one of the worst days of my life. Pushing my sky-blue covers aside, I decided to make my bed. Something I hadn't done properly in months. I pushed my hair out of my face as I put the finishing pillows in formation, and admired my work. It made me feel like I did something productive.

I had multitudes of black clothes from all the funerals I'd been to in my life. The black dress I'd worn to my mother's service fit me perfectly still, I hadn't changed much, or gained much weight. And even if I had, I lost it quickly. The hoodies were not needed anymore and my dress was tight, showing off my figure, not that I cared.

Not eating breakfast, I sat with my book on a chair by the window, waiting for the honk of Annie's car. This was nostalgic, nearly exactly like the situation of my mother's service. It only made me miss her more.

I imagined she was holding me instead of the chair cushions. "Riche," she would say. "I love you. Don't worry, you'll see us again. I'm proud of you." I laughed at the carelessness of my thoughts. She would never say the last sentence. No one ever would. I hadn't done anything to deserve someone's pride, ever.

Seeing Annie's red buggy pull up, I placed my favorite bookmark inside the pages to keep my spot and got my coat on, meeting her at the door and opening it for her.

"You ready, darling?" she asked.

I kept my expression blank. "As ready as I can be." She nodded, putting her arm around me and leading me to her car, letting me lean my head on her shoulder for support. She knew exactly what this was doing to me.

Getting closer to the cemetery, I felt my heart start to beat stronger, faster, and a knot appeared in my chest, forcing my breath to come out half-powered. With not enough oxygen to support me, I took deeper breaths, but they weren't helping. That cemetery, my head whispered. The cemetery I'd been to recently. Too recently.

"Richelle," Annie said firmly, getting my attention and dragging me away from the thoughts. The thoughts that I felt were killing me slowly.

"Thank you," I whispered, finally able to breathe again. The car slowly approached the cemetery, and I saw the rows of headstones. Luckily the one I couldn't see wasn't within my gaze, or I might've fainted right then and there.

Annie helped me out of the car, supporting my weight as much as her tiny figure could. But it wasn't much of a feat—I was feather-light. We walked together to the center of the cemetery, and I noticed my grandmother's headstone within seconds. It was exactly what she would've wanted.

Light grey, with engravings of crosses and flowers lining it. It had a bouquet of red roses laid in front of it on the undisturbed soil by Annie, and a single lily on the top of the headstone on my behalf. It read, 'Maya Winnoe, beloved mother and grandmother.'

It would've said something else too, had she died a day sooner. But she didn't. So that was all.

The priest arrived shortly after and observed us staring at the grave for a moment before he spoke. He led a wonderful service, commemorating nearly every single person her heart had touched. Annie and I both smiled when we were mentioned, the things he says were completely accurate.

I had a hunch that my grandmother had secretly wrote the speech herself, because I heard everything in her voice, almost as if she was here she whispering in my ear.

"Thank you," the priest finally announced to no one in particular. "And thank you both for coming. The service is over now."

I knew that Annie was going to leave, but I was staying. There were unfinished things that I needed to do. Starting with saying my own special goodbye to my grandmother.

"I'll see you later, honey," Annie whispered, patting me on the back gently as she walked away.

"Okay," I mumbled. Then I turned back to Grandma. "Hey. I just... I wanted to say that I'm sorry you had to leave so soon, without my goodbye, and without meeting her. I wanted to thank you for being the only support in my life for years, and for loving me just as much as Mom did. You gave me happiness in your last full day, a day that I didn't even want to live through, and I love you for it. I'm going to miss you." I watched a tear fall from my face and make a single dark stain on the stone. I stroked where it fell, wishing I could actually hug my grandma.

When I was finished reminiscing and thinking of her, I moved on, walking with heavy, slow steps to my other destination. I choked as I looked at it, fighting the urge to scream and run to it and collapse onto it and cry my eyes out.

——————

Noah's Perspective:

I arrived at the cemetery late, I'd wanted to be here to support Richelle, but that couldn't exactly happen now. Walking through the rows of stones, I noticed a lot of names, but none that I recognized.

I got closer to the middle, and passed a name that was familiar. Maya Winnoe. Richelle's grandmother's name. By the flowers covering it that I guessed were from Richelle and Annie, I assumed that the service had already ended. So where was Richelle?

Walking some more, I noticed a lock of blonde hair, and stepped back for a double take. It was Richelle, kneeling in front of a headstone that I couldn't read, head in her hands, her muffled sobs echoing to where I was.

I tip-toed over to her and placed my hand on her shoulder, causing her to look up. "Hey," she whispered.

"Hey," I responded in the same tone, sitting down to join her. She instantly shuffled closer to me, and I took in her warmth, putting my arm around her and letting her lean her her head down on my shoulder. I was anxious to ask the next part, unsure how she would react. "Is that your grandma?" I honestly didn't know the answer. Maybe it was, or maybe it was her other grandma. I could've been mistaken when I looked at the other one.

"No." she answered blankly, looking at the stone again. I kept my eyes on her, taking her in. Her cheeks were rosy and tear stained, damp also with the drizzle that had begun to fall.

I hesitated when I guessed again. "Your mom?"

She shook her head lightly, not looking away from the stone. "No. She's... not here."

I glanced at the stone for the first time. It was dark, and small. Almost like it wasn't made for a full grown person. Again, there was only a single lily on top of the head stone, smaller than an average one. There were engravings of little flowers and one in the center of what seemed to be a little bird.

That was when I noticed that Richelle was holding a small tuft of what looked like... hair. It was fair, blonde. Almost like a child's. "Then who...?" I asked.

Looking at the grave stone again, I read the inscription. 'Anaya Kelly. Beloved daughter. Mommy's sorry that you didn't get to see the sunshine, baby.'

She smiled softly, but it didn't reach her eyes. "My baby.".