Page 54 of Somewhere Without You

Fifty One

As promised, the discharge papers came through early Thursday morning. I’d need to see a regular doctor weekly for the next month along with physical therapy. But overall, I was recovering well.

The door eased open and Dani poked her head inside, hesitant but hopeful.

“Ready to bust out of here?”she asked with a small smile.

“Just about,”I said, waving her in.

She stepped inside, wearing ripped jeans and an oversized, threadbare t-shirt that hit mid-thigh. Her raven hair was a mess, like she hadn’t bothered with a brush in days, and the dark circles under her eyes told me she hadn’t slept much either.

“Thanks for taking care of Winston,”I said, easing myself off the bed.

Dani hurried forward, offering her hand for support.“Of course,”she said, helping me settle into the waiting wheelchair.“That’s what friends do.”

Friends. A month ago, that word was foreign to me—almost taboo.

Over the past month, so much had changed.

I had been a stranger to myself, trapped in the remnants of a life I thought I could never escape.

I had built walls so high, I didn’t think I’d ever let them come down.

But somewhere along the way, those walls slowly cracked.

And in doing so, I’d found a strength I didn’t know I had.

Once seated, I glanced up at Dani.“Listen,”I said, my voice quiet but serious.“I’m probably going to need some help getting back on my feet. Winston’s a great dog and all, but unfortunately, he hasn’t exactly mastered cooking or making coffee.”

Dani laughed.“Don’t sell him short just yet. He’s really grown into his own, hasn’t he?”

I smiled, thinking back to the day I adopted him. His little head resting on his paws, curled in the corner, trying so hard to blend in and not be noticed. Not like the others.

“He has,” I admitted. “But that’s not what I need right now.”

Dani shot me a curious look.

“I was thinking. . . maybe you could move in with me,”I said, the words tumbling out before she could argue with me.“There’s plenty of room. And I think we could both use a fresh start.”

She blinked, taken aback for a moment.“You sure about that?”

I nodded, feeling the weight of the offer settle between us.“More than I ever have about anything.”

Danielle looked at me for a long moment, her eyes searching mine. Then, slowly, a smile began to form on her lips.“Can I bring Henry?”

I laughed, pushing past the sharp ache in my chest.“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

The Jeep rumbled down the familiar drive, as Gran’s house slowly came into view—paint peeling, porch sagging, but still standing like it had been waiting for me to come home.

We came to a stop next to the Focus, its tire still slashed, the word SLUT still carved into the side. The sleek black Mercedes Katherine had rented looked out of place beside it.

My sister stepped out onto the porch, Winston darting out behind her. As soon as I opened the door, he bounded over to me, his tail thumping wildly, his whole body wiggling with excitement.

“Whoa, whoa, Winston!”Dani called, rushing to the passenger side.“You’ve gotta be gentle, buddy! She’s still healing!”

But I didn’t care. The second I saw his goofy face and felt his warm, frantic licks on my hand, I laughed—really laughed, for the first time in days. I buried my face in his fur, letting his excited whimpers chase the heaviness from my chest.

“I missed you too,” I breathed, fighting the ache pressing against my ribs.

“Thanks for picking her up,”my sister said, walking over to greet us.

Danielle handed her my bag, offering a small smile.“Of course. Anytime.”

Katherine gave me a look, her eyes softening.“I’m glad you’re home.”

I nodded, feeling a lump rise in my throat.“It’s good to be back,”I said, the weight of the past few days settling over me.

Danielle lingered for a moment, her gaze flickering between the two of us.“I should probably get going. Looks like I’ve got some packing to do.”She gave me a tight squeeze.“Call me if you need anything.”

Once Danielle left, I stood there for a moment, staring at the house, hesitant to take that next step. Katherine, sensing my hesitation, placed a hand on my shoulder.“You ready?”

Truthfully, I’d never be ready. But I couldn’t let fear hold me back any longer.

Logan was gone. As much as I hated it, as much as I longed to undo the past, I couldn’t.

All I could do was keep moving forward. For me.

For us. And when the time was right, we’d find each other again.

Just like we always had. Just like we always would.

“Almost,”I replied, walking to the edge of the porch. I bent down slowly, feeling the blood rush to my head as I sifted through the rocks, carefully picking out a few that called to me. When I stood again, I took a deep breath.“Now I’m ready.”

Inside, I slowly braced myself for what I might find.

Katherine had worked tirelessly to clean everything, replacing the broken furniture with new, more modern pieces.

I appreciated the effort, but it left me with a strange emptiness.

My eyes fell to the floor, landing on the spot where Logan had taken his last breath, right beside me.

“Emily. . .”Katherine’s voice curled over my shoulder, soft and tentative. But I waved her off.

“I’m fine,”I said, folding my legs and sitting down beside the spot. The floor was stained, a dark mix of mine and Logan’s blood, a reminder of the night that would forever haunt me.

“I tried to get it out,”Katherine said, her voice tinged with guilt.“I was going to call someone to redo the floors—”

“No,”I cut in firmly, despite the rawness inside me.“I want to leave it.”

One by one, I placed the stones on the floor, arranging them into a circle. An infinite loop. A never-ending cycle.

I pushed myself to my feet, my fingers gripping the back of the new couch for support. My attention wandered to the mantel, where a new urn sat, quietly waiting.

Katherine followed my stare, and I saw the sadness flicker across her face.“I figured we’d do it together,”she said, crossing the room.“Whenever you’re ready.”

I took a deep breath, my eyes never leaving the urn. “It’s been long enough,” I whispered. “We shouldn’t make her wait any longer.”

Katherine nodded as she lifted the urn with a tenderness that broke something inside me. Together, we stepped back outside, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on my chest.

The garden was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of the early afternoon creeping over us. The air held the faint scent of blooming jasmine and freshly turned earth, a gentle reminder that life moves forward even after loss.

“You fixed the fence?”I asked, my eyes tracing the freshly painted boards and the new gate standing firm and bright against the yard.

Katherine carefully lifted the lid.“I only finished what you started.”

Together, we tipped the urn gently, letting the fine, pale ash catch the breeze and scatter over the soil. Winston sat close, his eyes calm but watchful, as if understanding the gravity of the moment.

I closed my eyes, imagining Gran’s laughter being carried away on the wind, her spirit blending with the life around us.

When I opened them again, Katherine set the urn down and folded her hand in mine.

The garden seemed to breathe with us, alive with memories and new beginnings. For the first time in a long while, I felt a quiet peace settle inside me—a promise that while grief never truly leaves, love keeps us rooted, growing stronger.

I paused for a moment, breathing in the warm, fragrant air. Glancing at Katherine, her hand still holding mine, I knew that whatever came next, I wouldn’t have to face it alone.

Winston let out a soft bark, pulling me gently from my thoughts. I smiled, feeling the warmth of the moment settle deep inside me.

Sometimes, letting go isn’t the end—it’s the start of something new.