Lovers at War - (A.R.)

Chapter 13

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The Art of Forgetting

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4 Years Earlier:

THE FUNERAL WAS a sombre affair. The slightly old, yet always lively couple, killed just hours ago were buried side by side, with their small five-year-old son sitting in a corner alone. The boy was crying but he didn't know why.

I covered my face in my arms to hide the tears that were threatening to spill. An arm wrapped around my shoulder as Dad stepped closer to me, covering us with an umbrella.

"It could have just as easily been us, Dad," I said quietly, sniffling back my years. "I didn't think -"

"There was a chance that it would have been us," he said gently. "If your Mum hadn't noticed on the time that another car was speeding towards us, then who knows what would have happened?"

I sucked in a shuddering breath, rocking my body back and forth - but it couldn't be helped. The sheer anxiety that I felt at that moment was unexplainable.

Dad pulled me into his side and I turned, burrowing my head in his chest. Wrapping an arm around me, he patted my back gently to calm my ragged breathing. Sighing, I pulled away from him and looked up to meet his eyes.

"Dad, how are you so calm about all of this? We could have been killed had the other drivers not taken the fall instead."

"Because I have to be. I have a family to protect." His eyes drifted past me to Wesley who had started to quiet down. "Mum and I love you both dearly, and can't ever imagine losing you."

Only they had, though it wasn't them that had lost us; we had lost them.

As I looked over at the two graves, it broke me to admit that my parents were buried under there, not the other victims. The crash had instantly taken their lives, sparing my brother and I. I glanced up hoping to see my Dad, only surely enough - there was nobody there. There was never anybody there.

I had yet again been imagining things.

When I finally willed up the courage to approach Wesley for the first time since the ceremony began, it hurt to see him blinking away tears. How could he possibly be calm when his parents were no longer alive? He was only five-years-old, not enough time to know the people who had borne him, and certainly not enough time to realize that we were both now orphans.

Not the way like I had.

I needed to be strong for my brother, though I didn't know how.

Reaching my hand out, I soothed back Wesley's hair across his head. He glanced up at me with rosy cheeks and eyes that spoke of sadness.

I gulped, my voice was shaky. "L-let's go and say goodbye to Mum and Dad for the last time?"

Making our way through the crowd of people, we approached the two headstones. Letting out a deep breath that I didn't know I was holding, I stepped out from beneath the umbrella, letting my brother hold it momentarily. When I was done praying my respects, I rose to my feet and turned around only to find Wesley shedding some more unwanted tears.

"Wes," I muttered, embracing him in a comforting hug.

He dropped the umbrella that he was holding, wrapping his arms around me and burrowing his face into my middle. His shoulders shook slightly as he let the tears fall. Rubbing his back, I stayed silent for a moment longer. We stood, getting absolutely drenched by the rain, and the umbrella askew. But it didn't matter, because we had each other.

And that was perfectly okay.

As I shut my eyes, the darkness quickly faded as I envisioned Dad's warm smile, and Mum standing beside him.

"Is everything alright?" Dad asked, looking at me.

"No." I shook my head. "But it will be."

"Are you sure?" Concern was evident in his eyes as he let his arm stay around Mum's waist.

Opening my eyes again, reality's blinding light took me a moment to readjust to my surroundings. When I did, I smiled down at Wesley, and he leaned away from our hug.

"Now," I said, lending out my hand for him to take. He took it. "Let's go home."