In a Heartbeat (MxM)

Chapter 51

It was too much, but at the same time not enough. I knew that. I hated this feeling, but Simon had gone through worse. It hadn't been fair for him to burden this, not for this long. And here I was, shaking like a bitch from just stepping inside an abandoned house. Had it not been for strained breathing, I'd probably laugh it off, laugh at how pathetic I was being.

I promised my mother I'd be here for him, and yet I ran out of the house.

From the front porch, I could see the memorial from here. In all these years I had refused to go there, scared to even approach it. It was, as always, immaculate, the flowers stood out in the distance, even from the packhouse you could see it from one of the windows. I wasn't sure if I could go back inside that house again, but at the very least I could go there, pay my respects like I should have years ago. It wouldn't have been as stuffy as an enclosed house, so I stepped down the steps, bracing myself with the railing as I took hesitant but determined steps toward the garden.

Up close, the garden was far better than it had looked from the window, the details and heartfelt notes left there were beautiful. Taking deep breaths, I sat down, looking at the various stones, the piles of letters, and flowers that still decorated the space. I stared at each one, bracing myself as I could feel the tears welling in my eyes. Now that I had seen their picture on the walls clearly, it made seeing these stones that more real, the gravity of it all pulling me further into myself. I stared at the stones bearing his mother and father's name, his younger sisters, brothers. I stared at Nicole's, my brother's mate. Stared at Stephen's. My breaths came out more and more unsteadily as my eyes landed on Simon's stone, the letters and flowers nearly blocking his name with the amount of them.

I'm sorry, I wanted to shout. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

I wanted to scream it at the top of my lungs until my throat dried until I couldn't say it anymore. I wanted to scream so badly, but I feared I would lose it, lose all forms of whatever sanity remained. I feared I'd just fall apart here in the garden, feared that no matter how much I could shout those words that it would never matter.

The wind fluttered through the yard, a couple of loose petals floating past me as a couple of the letters shuddered. One had gotten loose, stumbling towards me so I picked it up. Curiosity got the better of me, and I unfolded it. It was fairly short, written in neat handwriting:

Dear Simon,

I hope that pathetic, monster of an alpha pays. I hope he rots for doing that to you and your family.

My breath hitched. Who would leave this at a memorial? It had no name signed after, but the sheer bluntness of it shocked me. Letters were supposed to be sweet, one that expressed they were sorry, that they missed them. And even though it hadn't been the first time someone had sent or said something like that to me, it hurt more than I was expected. I picked up another, one expressed their condolences, but the next discussed their frustrations with me. Another similar to the first. Were they all like this?

"Oh, there you are," Simon startled me, the papers falling out of my hand. I hoped he didn't glance at them.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "I shouldn't have read those."

He tilted his head. "Oh, there's nothing wrong with that."

He let out a curt laugh before sitting beside me, holding my hand that still shook from the contents of the paper I read. He squeezed it, staring at the stones in front of us before slowly leaning towards me, resting his head on my shoulder. I was still shaking from what I had read, but he didn't comment on it.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

I gulped before humming my response. He squeezed my hand, "I never expected this. For people to do this. I wasn't sure what to expect, to be honest."