Don't Go. (EDITING)

Epilogue

 No one ever thinks they can get over heartbreak, and at first, I agreed. I thought that the ache in my chest would never leave, and that the image of his face in my hollow head would never fade.

But it does. The twinge in your chest dwindles, and his face dulls until the point of almost disappearing. The only time that he comes to mind, is the occasional dream of the smooth of his hand or the way his lips pulled over his teeth when he smiled.

I'm rummaging through my closet, my fingers roaming through the different patterns, colors and textures. I stop when my hand brushes a familiar sweatshirt. It's dark blue, and stands out among the pastel colored clothing alongside it. It's the sweatshirt from the night with him, when I spilled fruit punch all over myself.

I pull it off it's hanger, and it falls gently into my arms. Looking down at it, I feel a sharp pain in my chest. But it's fainter. It doesn't hurt as much as it would have even last week. I still miss him though.

I twist my fingers around the sweatshirt, and bring it up to my head. I burrow my face into the dark blue fabric, and inhale deeply. His cologne twirls in my nose, and my bandaged heart threatens to crack.

"Cami?" Jax calls as he appears in my doorway. "Are you ready to go?"

I turn to face him, Lorne's sweatshirt still held to my chest. Nodding, I turn back to my closet. I fold the sweatshirt casually, and tuck it away on top of an old shoebox. Jax comes to me, standing beside me and gazing down at the sweatshirt silently with me.

"Are you okay?" He asks softly.

"Yeah." Delicately, I smile and rest my head on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around my back, and sighs breezily.

"Is that... his?" He asks.

"Mhmm." I hum in fear that if I were to talk, my voice would crack. Jax rubs my arm farthest from him and nods in understanding.

"Okay, Juniper is downstairs waiting for us. Want to get going?" He asks.

I respond, "Yes, I would like that," and we walk from my room, and down the stairs hand in hand. I leave my closet open, letting the sunshine lay down upon the sweatshirt at the bottom of my closet.

Juniper is standing at the kitchen counter holding a single coffee cup. Having not noticing us coming down the stairs yet, she sips her coffee lazily.

"Hey, Juniper," Jax says, raising his right hand. He leads me to the counter with his left hand resting on the small of my back. Juniper turns, and sets her cup on the counter carefully. She steps to us, her arms open.

"Camille!" She squeezes me into a hug. The thin light blue scarf tied around her bleach blond pixie cut tickles my cheek as she unwraps her delicate arms from around mine.

"Hey Juniper." I smile. It's been so long since I've seen her. It's like I'm back in Minnesota. Her fairy like lips curl in a sweet smile.

"I've missed you so much Camille!"

"I've missed you too," I chuckle. Jax stands back, and by the look on his face, he's enjoying the fact that he was the one who made this happen. He's the one who got Juniper to enrol into school here for senior year.. He's the one who called Juniper and even payed for her plane ride here.

"Ready to go?" Jax asks. I nod, and Juniper grins at both of us. "Let's get going than!"

Juniper grabs her coffee and rushes to the dining table. "Wait!" Juniper says. She comes back to the kitchen juggling three coffee cups in her arms. "Here," She hands Jax and I a coffee cup, and then sips her own coffee again.

"Thank you," I say, letting the steam waft into my face. It warms my entire body as the warm caffeine settles in my stomach.

We all walk out the front door, and to Jax's new 2015 Subaru Impreza the driveway. We all climb into his car; Jax in the driver's seat, I in the passenger seat, and Juniper in the middle back seat. We drive to school.

No one asks me about Lorne, but a lot of people give me pitying looks and or whisper a "sorry" while they pass me in the hallway.

When Jax drives Juniper and I home, there's a package resting on doorstep. I carry it inside before looking at the label. As Juniper gets started on homework, I get scissors to open the box.

My eye catches the label as I bring the scissors down on the tape. It's from California. My heart rate increase as my mind slowly processes who the package is from.

I rip the box open, throwing aside the packing peanuts and tape. Inside, is a few pieces of paper and a flash drive. I run to the laptop on the coffee table in the livingroom, and plug in the flash drive. As the computer starts up, I unfold the two pieces of paper.

The first, I flatten against the table. It's a drawing of... of me. The strokes of the pencil lines are smooth and light. My hair is wisping across my shoulders, and twirling around in the air beside my head. My mouth is smiling, and extremely realistic. My eyes sparkle, even though drawn in graphite. My hand is lifted to my mouth, covering half of my chin, and two fingers resting on my bottom lip.

I stare into the paper in amazement, trying to memorize the perfection. The signature that the bottom makes me smile.

Lorne Brennan

The second piece of paper is a letter.

Dear Camille,

Hey, I miss you so much. California is okay, but I wish I was there with you in Seattle or you were here with me. I don't know when I will get to see you again, but I hope soon. If you want to move on, it's okay. I'll forgive you if you choose to forget all about me. Maybe in collage we can meet up or something. But I want you to know that I love you. I'll always love you, even if we lose contact, or grow apart. Goodbye, Camille, at least for now. I hope you like the stuff I put on the flashdrive.

Love,
Lorne Brennan

I re-read the letter three times, before I look up at the computer. I open the flash drive, and see that they are pictures. Some are from his phone, and are pictures from our dates, or just pictures of him and I together. Tears well up inside of me, but I mostly feel gratitude.

Juniper appears by my side, and places a hand on my shoulder.

"Hey," She says, "Wanna work on homework?" She asks. I nod, and we turn away from the computer. We sit at the dining table, our textbooks open.

The heartbreak always fades, and the image always dulls, but it never goes away fully.