The One Who Lived

Chapter Twenty-Three

It has been close to a month since Ander and I have gotten back together, and I am not here to tell you that it has been sunshine and rainbows. It has been more waiting rooms, late night car conversations, and tears that could fill the Lake of the Ozarks twice over.

The day after we got back together, we went to his house and had a very deep and dark conversation with Vivian and Grant Grey. We talked about the struggles that Ander has been having, and the fact that it doesn't mean anything other than he needs help and that is what they need to get him.

Vivian was the one to quickly jump on board. She got him the best councilor in the immediate area, and even offered to fly him somewhere to stay until he felt stronger. Grant was a little different in the way that he stayed silent for several weeks after, and then suddenly went to Ander and told him about his struggles. He told his son about his struggles being portrayed as the perfect all-American man, and how it has made him hate himself and become a toxic father and husband.

I guess that in a way, Ander's accident was a blessing in disguise for the Grey family, and I am happy to be one to witness their change.

Ander is doing much better, and with the help of his councilor, he has been able to start slowly working out and practicing with his friends. Vivian and Grant seem to actually love each other. It is now an extreme rarity to see one without the other. They are always cooking, watching movies, and doing everything else possible with each other.

Their love is mushy and makes me love love just a little more than I did before.

"Vivian Grey called me the other day." I quirk an eyebrow at my mom as she starts talking. "She wanted to thank me for the selfless daughter I raised, and she wanted to give credit where credit was due." My mom says making my dad chuckle.

"A thanks from a Grey? We should write that down somewhere so that we can remember it." My dad says making me roll my eyes.

"Don't say that, Dad. I might be a Grey one day, and then you will be getting lots from a Grey. Like thank you's, gifts, grandkids, and whatever else that you might want to write down." I say making both of my parents look at me strange. "What?" I ask as the waiter brings our food and sets it down.

My mom shrugs. "I don't know. It is just so strange to think about you not being a Pearson." She pauses and her eyes tear up. "And Anni will always be one. She will never get the chance to be anything other than a Pearson." My mom says in a whimper so low that I almost don't think I heard her right.

"Lydia." My dad whispers sadly as he grabs my mom's left hand.

I quickly direct my attention to my chicken strips and French fries as my eyes start to burn at the truth my mom just said.

I want to say that our 'new' lives are weird and that we are still adjusting, but it isn't 'new' anymore. We are now merely a few weeks away from a year without Anni.

A year of me being an only child. A year of my parents only needing to check in and worry about one daughter. A year of Anni being in the ground and fading away more and more with every second that passes.

It is weird that I am an only child now. It is weird that my parents went from two to one. It is weird that we are sitting at a four chaired table that used to be full, but now has a spare. It is weird that my parents will only have to pay for one college, one wedding, and have one child they will become grandparents from.

Although we have all started to accept that Anni is really gone and that she is not coming back, it doesn't make anything easier.

The pain truly doesn't go away — it just gets numbing. The pain of missing her simply gets easier to live with.

"I am sorry." I whisper still look down at my lap.

"For what?" My dad asks making me look up, and all I see is genuine and real concern coating his face.

I shrug, playing with the end of the tablecloth. "I don't know. For surviving, I guess? I know that I wasn't in the car, but I feel like I was. I feel like it was Anni or me, and I feel like the universe chose incorrectly." I whisper as quietly as I can in hopes that they don't hear the morbid thought that swims around my head on the daily.

"Adan." My mother's voice causes me to raise my head once again. "It wasn't about choosing. We wouldn't choose for her over you, or vice versa. You are both the two things that made us whole, okay? So, stop feeling survivors' guilt when you absolutely shouldn't." My mom looks down now. "Sometimes it is just hard for me, and I am sorry that I even said anything." She looks at the empty chair next to me. "I just miss her. That's all."

I nod, looking at the seat as well. "Me too, Mom. So much." I smile as a tear slips down my face.

My dad grabs both of our hands. "All three of us are works in progress. We just have to remind each other of that sometimes." My dad says with his relaxing smile.

My mom picks at her chicken and vegetables. "Should we do something for a year? It obviously isn't something to celebrate, but I feel like we should do something."

God, how have I made it an entire year without her?

I always think about what I would tell her if she was here. I think about the change that has happened, and how badly I want to tell her all of it and sometimes ask for her advice.

It is weird, though. Because it feels as if her accident, and every terrible moment after it, were simply days ago. But on the other hand, it feels as if years have passed. There is so much change that has happened, and memories that I now have without her and ones that I will never get to share with her.

It also fills me with so much pain to think about it, because I am slowly starting to truly forget her. I am already forgetting her voice, laugh and even what she looks like. I know pictures and videos help, but it isn't the same. I can't remember everything about her now like I did a year ago, and that terrifies me.

I think about how dull those memories are for me now, and the reality that they are only going to keep fading. What will be left in another year? Then in another five? Ten? Twenty?

I don't want to believe that I will eventually have lived more time without her than with her.

"Do you have any idea what we should do, Adan?" My father asks bringing me back to the land of the living from the land of the mourning.

"I don't really want to do anything physically, but maybe we should donate some money to charity?" I suggest. "Anni's bad choice of drunk driving resulted in her death, so let's donate to a cause that prevents those things. One that educates kids and adults on the potential reality and repercussions of their choices."

My mom smiles, sadly. "That's a really good idea, baby. Why don't you pick a charity and our dad and I will do the donating?" She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.

I squeeze her hand back. "Deal." I promise.