Page 30 of Venus
The sky looks like it hasn’t seen the sun in days. It just hangs there—low and gray and heavy, tasting like rain that’s waiting for a dramatic moment to fall. Dark, rumbling clouds stretch across the crowded cemetery.
The whole town has pressed pause on the day. People of all ages gathered to pay their respects to a man they don’t really know.
My collar feels too tight, like it’s intentionally suffocating me as I stand like a statue. One hand is clenched tightly at my side while the other is white-knuckling an umbrella. I can’t feel my fingers. I can’t feel my toes.
I can’t feel .
The casket is too close.
It’s not close at all.
But it’s too close .
It’s polished navy-blue. His favorite color.
The flag that flew on the truck the day we lost him is lifted from his closed-casket and sharply folded into a triangle.
Captain Rodriguez hands it’s perfect corners to his sobbing mother like the precision could make up for everything the fire took from her.
Trevor would have hated this. The ceremony, the pageantry, the solemn quiet that no one is brave enough to break through.
He would have made a joke about how the flowers look like dicks or how stiff we all look in our suits.
I can almost hear him, like he’s standing right next to me, watching us say goodbye to his unrecognizable body.
He would have laughed at me for being a sentimental bastard and shedding a tear when I was allowed to give his last call on the county radio station.
Attention all units. Attention all units.
This is Terracotta Fire Department Engine One Lieutenant Carter Westwood.
Driver Engineer Trevor Knight has answered his final call after six years of dedicated service to the Terracotta, Georgia community.
Be at peace now brother, we’ll take it from here.
A long pause.
You go, we go.
Engine One, clear.
Victoria slides her hand into mine, loosening my fingers around themselves. She didn’t ask or say anything. Just holds my hand.
I don’t react at first. I can’t. My eyes are stuck on that stupid wood box with my friend inside. Maybe if I stare at it long enough, he’ll show up behind me, smack me on the ass and say: “Awwww, did Cooter miss me? ”
But he won’t. He can’t.
The chaplain’s voice fades in and out like static. Everyone’s crying. Everyone’s hugging.
But not me. I’m just staring at that box.
Trevor’s mom is the first to approach me. She’s clutching the folded flag tightly to her chest in her small, fragile, shaking hands.
I might as well be a second son to her, and she holds me like it. As soon as my forehead lands on her shoulder, I lose it. Ugly, gross, snotty sobs escape me and I think at this point I’m crying harder than she is.
“Oh, honey,” she whispers, “I know you did everything you could. You were brothers. He wouldn’t want you to cry for him.”
I hear her words, but they don’t register. I want to tell her that I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough. I’m sorry I couldn’t save him. I’m sorry I can’t go back and switch places with him.
But I can’t, so I just let her hold me while Victoria holds my hand. I crack wide open in front of all of them, and let them see everything I don’t have the strength to say.
When his mom finally lets me go, his dad comes next. Then his sister. Then Captain Rodriguez. Then the community handing out thank-yous I don’t deserve like Halloween candy.
Somewhere in the chaos of grief, I lose my grip on my sanity and walk away from the crowd, hiding behind the mausoleum away from all the eyes and the hugs .
Victoria comes around the corner, rubbing my shoulder with her steady hand.
I wipe my nose with my suit sleeve. “I just need a minute.”
She nods. “I know. It’s okay.”
She lingers close by, close enough for strength, but far enough for space. The only person she lets get closer to me is Jackson, and when I meet his gaze, all those horrible feelings come back to me.
“Why him?” I ask Jacks, as if he could really give me an answer.
“You barely made it out yourself,” Jackson says to me. Steady, but broken like the rest of us. “He wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.”
“He was always at my back. If I had just let him lead…”
“Then you’d be the one in the casket and he’d be here asking the same question. Carter, man, you were just doing your job. He trusted your judgement and he still would.”
I lean my back against a tree and look to my right. V is watching us, but I can see it in her eyes that it’s not right. Jacks and I are missing a very important part of ourselves.
We all walk back together, joining just in time for the salute. Three sharp cracks fill the air, and I don’t even have the strength to flinch at the sound.
The ride home is silent. V doesn’t force me to say anything. She just holds my hand while she drives .
When we get to my apartment, I panic, ripping and clawing in an attempt to get my crisp uniform off like it’s poisoning my skin. V calms me down enough to help, undressing me like a toddler and sitting me down on the couch.
She squats in front of me and my blank stare, pushing my messy hair away from my red face.
“Talk to me,” she says in a soft tone.
I shake my head. “I can’t.”
“You don’t have to try and hold it in anymore. Not for me.”
I open my mouth. Close it again. Open it again. Close it again.
Then it all spills out.
“I keep seeing it.” My voice cracks. “The smoke. The beam. His face. The way he reached for me and the moment he realized I wasn’t strong enough to get him out.”
“You did everything you could, Carter.”
“Yeah, everyone keeps saying that, but why does it feel like I didn’t?”
She stands up then, and hugs my head into her stomach, stroking my hair while I breathe in the comfort of her scent mixed with rain.
“Because grief doesn’t operate on logic.
It just…wrecks you. Unexpectedly. Unfairly.
But it doesn’t mean you didn’t try your best. There’s not a damn soul in this town that believes you would have left him behind.
You almost died because you refused to leave him.
And before you ask, I can’t answer why you lived and he didn’t, but I do know that the Carter Westwood I love would never leave his brothers behind. ”
‘The Carter Westwood I love.’
Yeah, that breaks me. Completely. And she holds me through all of it.
“I don’t know how to live in a world where he’s not in it,” I whisper into her stomach.
“One step at a time,” she whispers. “One breath at a time.”
She’s not fixing it. She’s not even trying to. She’s just…here. Solid. Quiet.
Mine.
I pull back just enough to look up at her, and I know in this moment, that if I didn’t have her, I’d be beyond saving right now.
“I’m a mess, V.”
“So am I,” she says. “But we’ll just have to learn to clean each other up together. Deal?”
I nod. “Deal.”
She leans down and kisses me on the forehead. Not because either of us expect it to fix anything or make me feel better right now, but because it reminds us both that no matter what comes next, we have each other.
Outside, the sky finally clears, letting a bright beam of sunlight light up the town.
The world and life moves on.
And I will too .
One breath at a time.