Love, Cecelia

Chapter 16 - Picture to burn

March, 2022

The few seconds, turned into an hour. A day turned into a week. And dad never made it. The surgery went good, but his heart couldn't fight it any longer. He fell in coma after the surgery.

At least this time, I got to say goodbye, and the apologies I didn't say for a long time. I could swore I saw a tear running down his cheek, while his body was there, not moving.

I knew he was listening to me. But still, that didn't make him stay.

I should have showed up earlier, i should have took him home that night after leaving the police department. I should have begged him to go to rehab.

It's a bit ironic right? He always loved alcohol. And that's what killed him. Maybe the things and the ones we love, are the ones who hurt us the most.

I knew I loved Ronan, since the first day I met him. Maybe I even loved him more than I knew him. I say 'loved' in past tense because maybe after Italy, things changed.

My feelings did.

The way i love him, did.

It's been a week since i ran off from Italy, since i ran off from that boat, after making the mistake that night. It's been a few days since i saw Ronan when he showed up at dad's funeral.

Surprisingly, a lot people showed up even though with his history with the alcohol. I thought people would hate him. Would hate him of doing stupid things while being drunk, but they didnt.

Because he was hurting too. And i never realised that. It's too late now.

He didn't mention the letter i left at his pillow. Maybe he didn't got it, or maybe be respected the place we were.

But after a couple days he started blowing my phone up after i didn't respond to his call.

So that's why i hide in my old house, in San Francisco. He doesn't know this place and he already been to the bookstore as James told me, and was looking for me.

"Him again?" James asks and i turn the call into silent.

"Yep" is all i say before I take the photo albums and I dust them off with my hand, smiling at myself.

"I forgot these existed"

"Do you want to take a look at them?" James, kneels down next to me and I inhale.

"We're probably somewhere in there together, on our bikes" he adds and I smile.

I start to turn the pages over, looking at my parents wedding, when mom was young and my childhood.

I turn the page when i come across of a picture of mom, in her long white dress, her black curly hair framing her beautiful face and her red lipstick on.

She never took off that red lipstick.

I remember she used to beg me to try it on me, and I would let her. She would make my hair, my makeup, she would give me her clothes and they would hang off me, from how big they are.

I brush my hand over her and a tear must fell off my eye, because I feel a hand brushing it off, with his knuckles, softly.

I turn to look at him.

"I bet there is a photo of you hanging off that tree, in the backyard" I say and we both laugh, looking for the picture, and many others, going through memories.

Good and bad memories.

James was always in the good memories and in the bad ones. He would made the good memories into better ones, and he would turn the bad ones, into good.