Page 74 of Please Don’t Go (The Midnight Strike #1)

JOSEFINE

“That’s everything.” Vi slumps down on the sectional next to me.

“I could’ve done that, but thanks.” I don’t look up at her out of fear I’ll cry. We’re only four months into the year and I’ve cried more this year than I ever have in my life.

“Don’t thank me. I would’ve wanted someone to do it for me.”

I couldn’t touch the things Daniel has given me without feeling like I was going to spiral. Every time I attempted to grab something, I was on the verge of losing it. So, Vienna put everything away in the room he had been staying in while I sat it out.

“You really don’t need to be here. I promise I’ll be okay. If you’re here out of fear I’m going to kill myself, I’m not.” My ring easily slips around my clammy finger as I twist it.

“There were a few times in my life when I contemplated it too.” Her words are hushed and reluctant as if she were afraid to admit that.

We look at each other simultaneously. My mouth parts, but I’m afraid of saying the wrong thing, afraid of pushing her away like I did Daniel. So I stay quiet and nervous.

A solemn smile tips her face, and her eyes grow distant.

“It was after Mom passed. I couldn’t cope with her being gone because she wasn’t just my mom but my best friend.

Everything I ever did, being the person that I am is…

was because of her.” She sighs heavily and I don’t think when I grab her hand and squeeze it.

She glances at it and her face softens. “I couldn’t be happy.

I tried but I felt stuck and empty. Every time I tried to fill the hole, I kept digging it deeper.

I hadn’t even realized I was doing that.

Until one day, I just thought what’s the point?

So I’d think about ending it all, but then something would happen.

Like my sister would ask if I could braid her hair because Dad was shit at it, or my brother would ask if I could cook because my cooking tasted like Mom’s.

They were constantly asking me to do things, and eventually I realized that they needed me.

The sadness is still there—that’s not something I think will ever leave—but I’ve learned to grow with it. ”

I’m crying and don’t realize it until a tear slips to my lips and I taste salt on my tongue.

“I’m not here because I fear it’ll happen. I’m here because I get it. I’m here because whether you want to admit it or not, you don’t want to be alone and you’re shit at communicating your feelings.”

“Hey!” I defensively say, but huff a laugh when her face brightens and she gives me a knowing stare. I remove my hand from hers and wipe my cheeks, and she does the same.

“You know I’m right. Communication and feelings aren’t your forte, but you can’t ignore them forever. They’re pesky little bitches; they’ll follow you everywhere you go, and eventually they’ll catch up.”

“I wasn’t trying to ignore them. I just didn’t understand what I felt.

That was until Daniel. It was all confusing at first, but slowly everything started making sense.

” I stare at the spot where he gave me the flowers.

“The emptiness, the dread, the endless loop—it all evaporated like it was never there. He made me feel seen. He made me feel safe. But now that he’s not here…

” A black hole takes residence in my chest, sucking the life out of me.

“I feel like I’m back from a funeral I can’t remember.

I feel stuck again, grieving something we could’ve been.

It’s like grieving Mom all over again. Except the difference is that he’s alive.

I barely started making sense of what I felt for her and now I have to make sense of what I feel for him.

I don’t want to be stuck, but I don’t know how to climb out. ”

She embraces me in a hug. “Tell me what you feel.”

“Nothing,” I numbly say.

“No, you do feel something. Tell me what it is. Don’t be afraid. The worst I’ll do is hug you tighter.”

My shaky lips lift a bit before they fall. “I-I feel…”

“Say it,” she softly goads.

“I feel sad. I feel mad.”

“Why?”

“Mad because Mom died. Mad because she never once said she loved me, hugged me, did anything but what she thought was necessary. Mad because despite it all, I hate how much I miss her. Sad because I keep thinking about what we could’ve been.

Sad because she’s not here and I feel like a failure.

Sad because Daniel came into my life, showed me how fucking beautiful it is, and now he’s not here.

Sad because he’s hurting. Sad because he needed someone and I didn’t do enough.

Sad because I miss him. I’m—” My voice breaks. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m here for you. Remember, we’re a part of the dead’s mom club. So that means we’re stuck with each other. We grieve together. We help each other. We’ll figure it out.” She clears her throat, but I know she’s crying.

“You’re being way too nice to me.” I cringe, knowing her shirt is covered in my tears and probably snot.

“Trust me, I could be mean, but I have a therapist, Jarvis. She’s a real pain in the ass, but she’s also pretty great. You should talk to her. She works with the athletes here.”

I remember someone telling me I should speak to her when Mom passed.

“Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

April 20th

I could burn this entire house down and I’d still be able to point at exactly where Daniel and I stood when he gave me the flowers. It’s almost been a month since that moment, but I can still remember it like it happened just a few seconds ago.

The only thing I can’t remember is the actual feeling of being happy.

I know I was; I was on the verge of tears because of his gesture.

But now I don’t know what that physical emotion feels like.

I keep trying to chase it, hoping I’ll move fast enough to catch it, but it’s like trying to catch the wind.

I dart my attention back to my screen, staring at the message thread between Daniel and me. I bite the inside of my cheek, hating the way my throat constricts over the stupid name. I’m not sure when he grabbed my phone, but he changed his contact name to: MY VERY HOT BF .

The last thing he said was that he was on his way outside, right before Bryson showed up.

I close my eyes briefly before I open them and type out a message. But a second later I delete it and type another. And I repeat the action ten more times before I decide against sending the message and toss my phone on the coffee table.

I hunch over, burying my face in my palms, and groan loudly but stop when I hear the doorbell ring. I ignore it but then it rings again.

I can’t even self-loathe in peace.

Marching over to the door, I jerk it open, feeling immensely agitated, but it vanishes because Penelope is standing on the other side.

I expect her to cuss me out or maybe even slap me but not apologize.

“I’m sorry.”

I flinch back, stunned. “What are you sorry for?”

“For being a bitch. Ignoring you. For being angry. I shouldn’t have, but he’s my brother an-and I-I…” She exhales a sorrowful sigh and a tear creeps down her cheek.

A voice in my head screams to stay in my spot, but my hands are moving of their own accord, wrapping around her until our bodies are flush against each other.

“I thought you hated hugs?” Her voice quivers.

“I’m trying out this new thing. Don’t get used to it,” I reply, feeling awkward when a second later, tense silence surrounds us. “You’re not a bitch. You were doing what you thought you needed to do. He’s your brother, after all.”

“I know, but I didn’t know what really happened. I just assumed, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry, Josie. I just know how much he cares about you, and seeing him hurt like that…it wasn’t your fault. I’m sorry.”

I rub her back as she cries into my chest. “Please stop crying. I genuinely might evaporate because my body is not used to me crying this much.”

She hoarsely laughs. “This is weird for you, isn’t it?”

“Very, but it’s okay.”

She draws back, wiping the tears away. “I really am sorry for not being here for you too.”

“You weren’t obligated. We’re not family and you haven’t known me long. It’s okay. I promise I don’t hold grudges.” I offer a small empathetic smile, hoping it doesn’t look strained.

She returns one of her own, making her dimples pop out. “We may not be family, but you’re still my friend—and my closest one at that. I really am sorry.”

My heart thunders and I cross my arms against my chest as if that’ll do something to stop it from racing. “Please stop. I should be the one apologizing.”

Her brows cinch. “For what?”

“Not doing enough for him. He did so much for me, and I wasn’t there for him.”

“You were enough. I promise.”

“So enough he thinks it’s best if we don’t see each other? I guess in hindsight, I deserve it. I told him to let me go. He was just doing what I asked.”

She sighs deeply. “It has nothing to do with you. He’ll come around. He just needs time to figure himself out.”

I nod only because I don’t want to cry.

“I missed you,”

“Me? It’s only been a few weeks.”

She chuckles. “Yes, you, and it’s been a few weeks too long.”

The tightness in my chest eases. “Missed you too.”

Her face gleams and her eyes sparkle. “Are we okay?”

“We never stopped being okay.” I peer over my shoulder. “Do you want to come inside? Vienna will be here in a bit.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” She squeezes past me. “Wait, so does this mean I get to hug you now?”

“Let’s take it easy.”

She laughs, and as she kicks her shoes off by the door, a thought comes to me.

“So, who’s the guy you soft launched on Instagram?” I didn’t know anything about it until Vi told me. I’ve been staying away from social media because I know if I don’t, it’ll lead me to looking up Daniel. “I thought Angel was helping you find?—”