Page 124 of As the Rain Falls (Sainte Madeleine #1)

GRIEVING IN SILENCE

Beckett

It’s been almost seven months since Lucia passed.

I stare at the calendar, feeling that familiar sense of numbness settle in my bones, creeping like a slow ache. It ruins my entire morning before it even begins.

Cassandra is having another two-week break from school because of strikes, and she spends most of it with me at the farm, petting Rosie, talking with Well, filling the quiet spaces with the sound of her voice.

It’s almost strange how right it feels, seeing her here, in what I’ve come to describe as my happy place. And yet, something is missing. Lucia was supposed to be here .

I know I have to make peace with the fact that she isn’t. I know that. But it doesn’t change the way my body responds. I can’t stop picking at the skin around my nails, tugging my hair, or jerking my feet beneath the table.

Lunchtime comes sooner than I expected it to. I sit down to eat the spaghetti Cassandra made, but I can’t even focus on the food for more than a second.

She notices.

Well doesn’t.

Her hand finds mine, gently circling my fingers, prying them apart until her thumb brushes over the bruised skin. It gives me something else to do, other than hurting myself, so I start playing with her fingers instead.

“Are there other fruits on the farm?” she asks, resting her head on my shoulder. Her voice is soft, easy, and soothing.

I tilt my head down to kiss her forehead. “The kind you won’t find at the supermarket?”

“There’s a carambola tree not too far away from the river,” Well answers by pointing his finger towards a familiar path, which I recognize as the one leading to Grande Roche , by far the largest river in Le Port. “Lots of fruit there you can eat from.”

“Is it like star fruit?” Cassandra perks up, green eyes shining with curiosity. “I don’t think I’ve ever had caram… carambola before. Can I go take a look?”

“Not alone, no.” Her lips purse into a pout. I kiss her cheek, unashamed to love her in front of my boss. Old Well is family. “I don’t want you getting lost.”

“You can come with me,” she offers.

“I have work to do.” I take another bite of her food, tasting the faint sweetness in the sauce. She’s not a bad cook. “Help me groom the horses, and I’ll take you after.”

“Deal.”

And then, it hits me. The reason why it bothers me so much that Lucia isn’t here.

We were supposed to have a lifetime together, the three of us. Halloween parties, birthday celebrations, Carnival nights. She was supposed to be here, watching me fall in love for the first time, teasing me about Cassandra while I tell her how I’ve never felt like this before.

It feels like a slap in the face that she won’t. And worse, I’m starting to believe that my father is right. Maybe I did play a part in this.

I didn’t pick up the—

Cassandra laughs after something Well says, a stupid joke, and my heart cracks open. She’s so carefree, so present. This day would have been perfect with my sister by my side, laughing at me for being so ridiculous about her.

But I’ll take what I can get. I’ll bring my girl to every tree on this farm and give her every fruit she’s never tried before. I’ll keep her safe, let her giggle at the dumbest jokes an old man can tell.

I won’t take any of it for granted.

I’ll love her.

I’ll learn how to do it right.

I won’t walk away, not even if gods themselves tell me to do it. Because nothing feels more excruciating than wasted love when there’s nowhere else for it to go.

You’re depressed, a voice whispers in my head.

It stings. It’s a thought I’ve been ignoring for a long time, and maybe I shouldn’t, but there’s no manual to this. I’ll be grieving my sister until the day I die, and it’s the least I can do as a brother.

I miss Lucia.

I really, truly do.

Cassandra kisses me softly, pulling me back to the present. I hold onto that. I let it anchor me, drowning out the ringing in my ears that tells me this happiness is fleeting.

That no matter how hard I try, it can’t last.

***

Cassandra walks a few steps ahead of me, too excited about adventuring to stick by my side. I want to tell her to slow down, but I don’t.

She looks so damn happy.

One second, we’re talking about something silly Antony said in class and Mateo’s ridiculous response, and the next, we’re silent, just breathing.

I’m absolutely dying to kiss her.Each time she looks back, her gaze drifts to my mouth, and my chest tightens.

This might be it.

And then, it’s not.

She smiles knowingly, cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pink.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I speed up, closing the space between us, wrapping an arm around her waist, and pulling her to my chest. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“You.”

Her breath hitches as I slide the pins from her hair, undoing the messy bun she threw together this morning. My fingers weave through the strands as she chatters about shopping with Angelina and Kayla.

“Okay. Well, I picked the pale pink dress, but Kayla thought a darker color would suit me better. And I’ll tie my hair up, of course.”

They’ve started planning Mateo’s birthday party, even though it’s a few weeks away. It’s a big deal, his first birthday in Le Port.

Cassandra’s been having the time of her life obsessing over the perfect gift, the right dress, and the guest list. I hadn’t known about this side of her. She’s a quiet social butterfly, enjoying the good times spent with her close friends.

I twirl a loose wave around my finger, letting it spring back into place. “I love your hair.”

“You’re just saying this because you want me to kiss you.”

“Then why isn’t it working?”

She scrunches her nose. “Cheesy.”

I nod solemnly. “The cheesiest.”

She kisses me, really kisses me, and I melt into her touch. Her tongue brushes against my bottom lip, and I pull away to catch my breath, eyes still shut. Carefully, her hands cradle my face, but she doesn’t push for more. She’s the one waiting for me now. I’m not even doing it on purpose.

I just like every part of it.

Even the before.

My heart goes thump-thump-thump-thump .

I curse under my breath.

She shivers.

One.

Two.

Three.

I pull her flesh to mine, and we’re back at it again.

No thoughts, just us.

We don’t kiss with anything else in mind besides kissing. Teaching each other, learning each other’s tells.

Like how, when I make a small, overwhelming noise, almost like a whimper, she moves her left hand from my cheek to my ear, her thumb rubbing soothing circles into my skin.

Or how, when she tilts her head to the right, I know she wants me to tug on her hair and bite her bottom lip just a little deeper.

Around us, the branches are swaying and the birds won’t stop singing. I feel mud beneath my feet as I press her back against the bark of a tree. I’m gripping her hips, pulling her up, and letting her legs wrap around me.

This feels so fucking good.

The closeness leaves us both wrecked until we’re both panting, wanting, needing more of this, whatever this is.

I could kiss Cassandra forever.

I could kiss her until she feels like mine and no one else’s ever again.

“God,” her voice is raspier now, something that makes my stomach tighten. “I’ve kissed boys before. Plenty. Not like this.”

“Thanks for the detailed report on your make-out history.” I kiss the corner of her mouth, snorting lightly.

“You’re supposed to get mad. And super jealous.” She eyes me, unimpressed. “Possessive. Hate everybody who’s ever had me.”

And I do.

I hate them so much.

I wish them nothing but the worst, and she doesn’t even know.

“Do you hate my past girlfriends?”

“Were there that many?”

I try not to laugh. “Ouch?”

“I hate Alex-with-the-red-hair a little, but that’s just because she was, like, your very first,” she admits, playful but honest.

“Mn.”

She adds suddenly, her voice quieter, “I think you might get tired of me if I’m not as fun as she seemed to be.”

“What?” I shake my head, genuinely shocked. “You can’t seriously think that!”

She covers her face with her hands, ears turning a pretty shade of pink.

I love this. How candid we are with each other.

How I get to kiss her senseless and listen to her open up right after.

“You know, I’m human too.” I press my forehead to hers. “I get scared sometimes.”

She snorts, “Of what?”

“That you’ll grow bored.” I shrug. “What’s extraordinary now becomes ordinary later.”

Cassandra laughs, loud and real, and the sound goes straight to my heart. “Have you been dabbling in poetry?”

I wish.

She studies me, the faint blush in her cheeks fading, her wild hair curling around her like a fairy halo. Cassandra is the prettiest person I’ve ever seen in a way that’s almost too painful. My chest always hurts if I stare at her for too long.

“I thought you had it all figured out for us.”

“I do,” I answer too quickly.

“But you’re scared of stupid stuff too,” her smile dims slightly. “Not like my brother killing one of us or something.”

She says it lightheartedly, but I know she’s not really joking. Nathaniel is coming back soon. He’ll be breathing down her neck at every twist and turn. I’m not about to back down and let him do whatever he wants.

“Cass, he’s not going to hurt you,” my voice is steady. “I’m serious, baby. I’m not letting him come close.”

Her smile has faded completely now.

“I really wish you wouldn’t say that.”

I blink, letting her words sink in. Every time we’ve talked about this, which hasn’t been all that many, Cassandra is evasive.

Talks about the future, about graduation, and even our relationship at times still scare her.

I don’t know what else to do to make her feel safe around me, and sometimes, it makes me feel doubtful, too.

What else is there to fear that I don’t know of?

But losing Cassandra is not an option. The thought alone, God. I want her to see me, to know me. I want her to know it all. I want our broken parts to fit together in a way that isn’t jaded.

“It’s Lucia, isn’t it? What’s making you so moody?” she asks quietly, confusion melting into a quiet sort of understanding. “Talk to me.”

Immediately, my throat closes up.

“She’s dead.” I let her feet touch the ground again, my voice hollow. “What else is there to say?”

“Beckett.”

Cassandra reaches for me, but I take a step back, the weight of everything slamming into me at once. Emotion starts to rise, every bad night, bad thought, and bad feeling adding up to one single moment.

It’s like my mind is a hallway with multiple doors, and every single one of them is shutting close as I try to get out. I keep reaching for the right key, the one that will set me free. Nothing works. None of them open.

She follows me in silence, and I can tell she feels confused. We reach the star fruit tree, and I sit myself down, dragging a hand through my hair. I hear her gasp as she reaches for a branch, shaking it until the fruit falls. Then, she picks one up and bites into it, uncaring if it’s dirty or not.

A few minutes later, she approaches me again.

This time, she doesn’t try to touch me.

“Baby… Do you want a bite?” her voice is gentle but unsure. Coaxing me, like I’m a child. “It’s actually a little sour and sweet at the same time.”

I shake my head, trying to keep myself from snapping at her.

Why do I want to snap at her?

I was feeling fine. I’ve been fine all day.

“What can I do?”

It’s the right question at the wrong time.

I can’t answer it because my tongue gets stuck in my mouth.

I don’t know. I should know. I have ways to deal with a bad day, but this feels worse. Too bad to handle. I don’t know if I should see a doctor. I don’t know if I should get medication. I don’t want to be treated as someone who is stupid, incapable of dealing with hard things.

“Can… Can you…” I frown, annoyed with the stuttering. I blurt out the next words in a rush, screeching them. “Can you cover my ears?”

“Okay.”

She drops fruit it, and cups my ears, pressing down until the world dulls. My eyes close.

“I’m buying you earplugs when we get back,” she says, kissing my forehead. “I looked it up online. Some people say it really helps.”

Earplugs .

Why the fuck didn’t I think of that?

All the tiny sounds of nature around us become muted. I listen to her breath, counting down the seconds until my eyes start to sting. It helps a little, no longer seeing anything.

A long time passes, and I only realize that Cassandra has been humming all along when she restarts the music for the second time. It’s a melody I know by heart.

Songbird by Fleetwood Mac.

I open my eyes again, but she isn’t looking at me. She’s staring at the tree, how the branches seem to be bending towards our bodies. A quiet breeze brushes her hair back, like a gentle hand tucking the strands.

I reach for her wrists, gently pulling her hands away. Her head snaps back to me. “You’re back.”

“I am.”

She smiles. “I missed you.”

“Me too.” I clear my throat. “You were singing Songbird.”

“I was.”

Cassandra smiles slowly, and before I can add anything else, she brings me into her arms and starts singing again.

A star fruit falls and lands on the ground.

Neither of us bothers to catch it.