everything I didn't say

thirty

"How's he doing?" I ask Greg on the phone. 

"Good, he's taking all his pills and even talking to me now. He said he wants you to stop by." He tells me. It's been three days since Niall was in the hospital, and I've yet to see him. 

He's staying at Greg's until he feels like going back home. "Did he tell you that or is that what you're saying?" I ask. 

"He said it. He even said that he has someplace he wants you two to go tomorrow."

"Really?" I smile on the inside and out.

-

--

After the confusing and aggravating drive to Greg's house, a half hour convincing myself it will be okay to skip a day of classes, and pick a dress as Greg instructed to do. 

I do, however, finally reach his house, about an hour late though. I knock of his door and I am let in by a blonde woman with a large smile. I think this is his wife, and her name is Denise, but I may be wrong. "It's late, we have a room that we cleared for you to stay in. Go in there and sleep. Okay?" She says sweetly.

I lock myself in the room tonight, determined not to wander off to find Niall in the night, now that he is so close to me.

I seem to have forgotten about the awful things he said and did that night. I shouldn't forget about them so easily just because he was hurt.

I sleep soundly in the comfortable bed, only waking up once in the middle of the night to a child crying. I do remember Niall mentioning a nephew, that was probably him. 

I unlock my door and wander into the home, grateful when Greg is awake. 

"Leah, good morning." He nods his head at me and returns to his breakfast. "Good morning." I reply. "Nialls in the shower, and he said you should be ready by noon."

I look at the clock on the wall, it's past eleven already. I'm glad I took a shower before I came or else I wouldn't have time to get ready.

After getting ready in the black and white dress I brought, and putting on a bit of makeup to match the occasion, I lightly curl parts of my hair in plenty of enough time. 

Niall waits for me by the door. He is in a suit, one that looks very nice on him. "You look great." He compliments me when he sees me. The first time we've spoken since I left his hospital room.

"So you do, really great." I look down and she he has a boot on his leg, his dress pants tucked into it. At least he didn't have to wear crutches or something like that. 

"Where are we going?" I ask before we leave. He shakes his head. "You'll see." Is all he tells me. The ride is completely silent, and I contemplate bringing up what the nurse told me. I decide to.

"So, are you taking all your pills?" He nods. 

"How many do you have to take?" I want a worded response instead of a gesture.

"Just one of each a day, not too bad I guess." He doesn't look over to me. 

"What do you have to take?" 

"Why so many questions?"

"Just curious. We haven't talk in a while. Sorry." I shrink in my seat, I feel so belittled by him.

"It's okay, I didn't mean to snap at you. Didn't you pick up my prescription though?" Her raises his eyebrow but still doesn't turn to me. 

"I did, but I didn't read your bottles." I lie.

"A pain numbing medicine and an antidepressant." He tells the truth. 

"Why do you have to take antidepressants?" I ponder. "Leah," he sighs. "You're really bad at this. Greg said he saw you talking to my nurse about my prescription slip. I know you know what I take and why I take it." I sigh with him.

"They told me," I look away and don't know how to finish. "That it was attempted suicide?" I dare look over at him to see if anything about him looks different. "That's what they told me too." He says. He looks upset, either with me or with himself. "Was it?"

"I don't think so. I was just driving, and I don't remember much else." 

"Promise?" I squeak.

"I promise. I wouldn't purposely hurt myself like that. Just because the roads were clear and the weather was clear too, doesn't automatically make it an attempted suicide, you know? They just always assume."

"Well I'm sure they get a lot of suicide patients everyday so they jump to conclusions." He reaches over and grabs my hand, giving it a light squeeze. 

"Just between you and me," he whispers like others are listening. "I'm not taking my antidepressant."

I gasp, only a little, and say his name in shock. "Why not?" I add.

"Because I'm not depressed. I did take them at first, though. I'm not taking pills they give me for a problem I don't have."

"Okay," I reply. I am not going to fight him to take his medicine. I am not going to fight him at all. The rest of the car ride is fairly quiet and Niall removes his hand from mine. We pull into the lot for a nice white and brick building with a lot of cars in the parking lot. I think I see a hearse waiting by the door, and everyone is dressed in black. This building is a church.

"Holy shit, are we at a funeral?" I ask. Niall nods slowly.

"Whose funeral is this?"

He opens the door, and walks over to my side and opens mine. He stands in the doorway and leans in, kissing my forehead. "Come on." He helps me out and we walk to the door. It has just rained, small puddles and a wet sidewalk is visible. Some men in suits hold the door open for us and we walk in together, Niall's arm gripped tightly around my waist, almost as if for support. He glances in, maybe for someone in particular, and he doesn't see them. We walk to the check in book, if that's what it's called, and he signs our names together on the same line. I don't see any recognizable names on there, but I do see someone named Ali signed in, maybe it's the Ali we know? I never learned her last name.

It may not be her, I still don't even know who died.

"Niall, is that you?" Someone behind us asks. We both turn around, and it's a woman, clutching a tissue for dear life, in a black dress with a veil covering her face. I don't recognize her, not that I should. He let's go of my waist, and puts his hand in his pockets. 

"Good evening, Mrs. Reilly." He says. She almost smiles, not quite though. Kinda like a lip raise, followed by a "huh" noise.

"I was wondering if you would come." She says.

"Of course, why wouldn't I come?"

She shrugs mildly. "Who are you?" She looks to me. I extend my hand.

"Leah Thomas." I don't smile, a funeral is not a place to show everyone you are happy, and I don't even know who any of these people are. She looks at my hand then up to my face in an almost rude manner.

"Were you a friend of hers?"

Not wanting her to know I am just a guest, a visitor, and out of respect, I nod. "I was." I lie to the woman. 

"Hmm." She says, then without another word turns on her heel and stalks into the large visitation room.

"Hey, I'm gonna talk to these guys over here, why don't you go find us seats?" Niall says, gently rubbing my shoulder. I look to the group of guys he points, young and in suits. "Okay." I make my way into the large room while he goes to the young men. The place has a decent amount of seats, but most are reserved in the front rows for family. There are some in the back, some already filled, and I see two empty seats about midway through and sit down in one of them, setting my purse in the other.

It has been so long since I've been to a funeral. The last one I went to was about four and a half years ago, my great grandpas, who died of skin cancer. It's an open casket, but from where I am I do not see it's occupant. I sit up from my seat, smoothing out the back of my dress, and make my way to the front of the church slowly by the coffin. Two young girls were just peaking in and they have now sat down, in the front row. They sit by the same woman who nastily greeted us earlier. She must be a parent or close family member if she sits front row. 

I make it to the front and peak my face down into it, seeing who lies inside. I immediately take a step back and cover my mouth with my hand to stop myself from screaming.