The End Where I Begin (Book Four of the Glen Power Series)

Epilogue

A/N - To those of you who liked the ending of this book, please do not read on. But to those of you who trust me and enjoy the way I deal with difficult things, then please continue. I would hope most of you will do this, but I don't blame you if you would rather not. This is just what I needed to do. Thank you and I hope you enjoy x

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A cold breeze hits the side of my face, whispering a soothing caress gently along the pale skin of my cheeks. Reassuring me that, at this precise moment, everything will be okay. That so long as I walk the earth, it will be a constant. Forever existing in this world that loses so many every year. Every day. Every hour...

Just one second. That's all it took. One awful, everlasting second. And then they were gone. They lived and then...they didn't. They stopped living. Just like that. In one second.

All I've got left of them are these graves. Slabs of cold stone with engravings etched into it. It's ridiculous, isn't it? You spend your entire life trying to make yourself into something worth remembering. But when it comes right down to it, all you're remembered by is a stone. With your name on it. And some cliché quote that people think you'll want with you for the rest of eternity.

Graves mean nothing to me. Even as I stand here, watching over them as they forever slumber, I can't take it all in. No matter how many times I come back here, it just doesn't ease the pain that I'm feeling. All I can think is how pathetic her quote is in comparison to who she really was. And how his doesn't even scrape the surface of any emotion that I associate with him.

I'm always told to stop coming here so often. Reliving the memories are just too painful. I'm doing myself no good repeating that day over and over in my head. I know this. I know this far too well. But on this day, the anniversary of that fatal day, you have to give me some credit. You have to let me mourn. You have to let me grieve.

Five years now. That's how long it's been. Five whole years. And yet when it comes around to remembering, I can see it all so clearly. Every second of that day is stored in my mind for the rest of my life. Waiting in hiding until this day every year for it to all come back up and hit me where it hurts...

“Sorry I'm late.”

I can't help but smile at the sound. Though his voice has grown gruff with age, it's still his. But as sick as it is, he's what comforts me the most about this day. Even though this pain is horrific, I don't bear it alone. He's just as big a part of this as I am.

I hear his footsteps come to a halt as he reaches his spot. Sad, isn't it? That we both have a designated 'spot' to stand and mourn. Neither of us can stand anywhere else but right here. Right where our feet touch the grass at this precise second. It's ruined otherwise, and ruining this moment is almost disrespectful to them.

I don't look at him. I don't need to. I know exactly what's etched into that face of his. All the emotions that reappear annually: pain, grief, guilt, loss...They'll all be there. If I took but one glance at him, each individual emotion would smack me in the face. And to be honest, I've got enough of my own shit to deal with right now.

“Have you started yet?”

“No.”

“Thank you.”

I don't know why he thanks me. He always does it. Three years we've done the same thing. I get here early. He gets here late. Not because we don't see each other any more or anything of the sort. But his job demands it. Despite the trauma, the show must go on. And so he does. Around the world he goes, playing the music he loves. It eases the pain. Eases the dull ache of something missing in his heart.