Page 131 of Stay With Me

There are two dates that’ll forever haunt me—Billy’s death and his birthday—and each year, it hurts a little more than the one before.

He’s forever eighteen while I continue getting older and living life without him.

I hate that finding joy in the little things is always followed by the guilt that I’m still alive. And lately, I’ve been happier than ever before, and although he’d want that for me, I can’t help the little nagging voice in my head that drags me back into the dark.

It’s your fault.

He’s dead because of you.

Billy would still be here if you’d just agreed to go to the party.

Yes, I know he’s at fault for his own decisions, but I’ll never forgive myself for how it played out.

If my phone had been on silent, I would’ve never answered it in the first place and his little game of coming to get me wouldn’t have happened.

I knew him better than anyone else. That’s the worst part.That’s what eats at me.

I should’ve seen the disaster ahead as soon as I picked up the phone.

The what-ifs, the if-only-I-had done this or that overwhelm my thoughts until they trigger an anxiety attack. Hell, sometimes a panic attack too in the middle of the night. I’ll be sleeping and wake up with my heart racing and my chest so tight, I swear I’m having a heart attack.

But I haven’t had a single one since Magnolia and I started dating.

Although they’ve been happening less and less as the years go by, sometimes it’ll just hit. Noah’s wedding was harder on me than I expected because it reminded me of how many important milestones he’s not here to experience.

Regardless of how I feel on the day of his birthday, I always buy a birthday cake, a bouquet of flowers for his mom, and a handful of balloons. Then I get in my truck and drive to his parents’ house for lunch.

Marissa answers the door with a smile, but her eyes are glossed over.

“Hi, sweetheart. Come in.”

“Thanks, Marissa.”

She takes the cake from me, and I follow her through the house. When we get into the kitchen, there’s a spread of Billy’s favorite food. William is already seated, and when he notices me, he smiles. Even after all these years of being divorced, they get together one day a year to celebrate their son’s birthday.

“Tripp, hi.” He stands to take the balloons and puts them in the middle of the table.

“How y’all doin’?” I ask, still holding the flowers.

“We’re good. You?”

“Same, thanks.”

When Marissa hands me a vase with water, I unwrap the flowers and place them inside. Then I set it down next to the balloons as per our tradition.

“Can’t believe he’d be twenty-five this year,” Marissa says as she cuts into the cake. “A fully grown man now.”

I smirk at that. “I dunno. I have a feelin’ he’d still be as rowdy as when he was a teenager. He’d just be old enough to know better.”

“I like to imagine him with a girlfriend or wife and maybe a baby or one on the way.”

Knowing how Billy was with girls back in high school, he would’ve had three kids by now.

“You just know the weddin’ woulda been wild,” I say, going along with her idea. There’s no doubt he would’ve stood at the altar drunk off his ass with me by his side, trying to keep him awake.

Marissa sits down next to me after bringing the cake over. “Is there someone special in your life, Tripp?”

William begins scooping mashed potatoes on his plate, and I follow suit, grabbing a piece of fried steak.