Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
“You see, Cael,” Simon said softly, carefully, “depression, for some, can be so difficult to live with that it is a terminal illness.” Something was happening to the fire inside of me as he spoke. It was growing weaker. Losing its heat.
Second by second, as I replayed Simon’s words in my mind, that protective shield in my chest began to fall, exposing the mangled and sorrow-filled heart that lay beneath. “Depression, for some, can be so difficult to live with that it is a terminal illness …”
“Depression is a sickness that eats away at all happiness and light until there is nothing left but hopelessness and despair. Like cancer ravishes the body, depression ravishes the mind, the soul, the spirit. It’s a silent killer, stealing life away gradually, moment by moment, extinguishing all light from the soul.” Simon laid a hand on my back. “Understanding that can help douse the anger that you have for Cillian for leaving you. And perhaps put you on the path to forgiveness, and a chance to mourn him without judgment. To help you understand why he did what he did, and that you couldn’t have done anything to stop it … and, by the end, neither could he.”
Cillian … No …
I bent down and let the fire completely fade until I was raw and exposed and twisted up from guilt. And the tears came. The tears came so fast and free that I could barely breathe, could barely see. Cillian had been sick. He hadn’t wanted to leave us, leave me, but his illness had taken him away. Just like Poppy had been taken from Savannah. He couldn’t help it … my brother couldn’t help it.
“Let’s get you back to your room, son,” Leo’s soft voice said, cutting through my emotional collapse. When I looked up, the sun had gone from the sky and the moon was rising, stars bursting into the black sky by their hundreds. Simon was still beside me. He’d stayed with me as I had broken down.
We must have been here for hours, suspended in time, with this new perspective.
Leo put his arm through mine and guided me to my feet. I felt weak, like my legs would give out at any time. With the blame gone, it was like I had just lost Cillian all over again. “I held him in my arms,” I whispered to Leo and leaned against him, gripping tightly to his arms.
“I know, son. I know.”
“He’s not coming back,” I said, and the cries that were ripping from my chest were brutal and sore. My emotions caved in. The sadness that followed was an avalanche, building and building until it was unstoppable.
“Cael?” A voice I would recognize in any lifetime broke through the fog of my grief. I looked up through swollen eyes to see Savannah rushing over with Mia behind her.
“Savannah …” I said, and she wrapped her arms around me. Had I been calling for her? Maybe? I couldn’t remember.
Too heavy for her to hold, we fell to the ground, knees hitting the grass, fully surrendering to my sadness. “It wasn’t his fault,” I hushed out and held her to my chest. Her cherry and almond scent wrapped around me too, keeping me safe in our bubble. “It wasn’t his fault, Peaches. He was sick. He was sick and couldn’t fight it …” I broke to pieces in the crook of her neck. I knew Leo and Mia were nearby, keeping watch. Just in case.
“He was sick, baby,” Savannah said, running her hand up and down my spine. “He was such a good person, who loved you so much. He wouldn’t have left you if he could have helped it. I didn’t know him, but I know that.” I gripped on to Savannah’s shirt tighter and just held on as my body shed months and months of anger and guilt and shame and grief onto the ground beneath us.
Eventually, Leo and Mia helped us back to my room. I lay on the bed, exhausted and feeling so ripped open it was as painful as an open wound. Savannah sat beside me. Leo sat on a chair at my other side.
I pictured Cillian in my arms, broken and gone. It hadn’t been his fault … he wasn’t to blame. But I’d blamed him. I was the bad brother.
I blinked in the room, feeling like I was seeing everything differently now. Savannah moved next to me, and I curled into her lap, arms wrapped tightly around her waist. I wanted to be sure she couldn’t leave me too. I heard the light sniffs of her own sorrow. I had never been more thankful for a person’s love and support in my entire life than I was right then.
“I’ll give you a few moments alone,” Leo said, clearly speaking to Savannah. “I’ll be back shortly. Call out if I’m needed.”