Chapter Twenty Four

Benji

You can't truly understand the pain of losing a loved one until it happens to you.

I bet you've heard that before. But until you've felt the crushing weight of losing a partner, you can't really grasp what it means. No matter how many funerals you've been to, it's nothing compared to the loss you might have to face yourself one day.

The death of a partner can lead to endless days and nights of grief. You're not just mourning the loss, but also trying to rediscover who you are without them.

It's even harder when you know your partner died saving you. We were walking into the courthouse when someone called my name. As we both turned, Maddie pushed me out of the way. The sounds that followed will haunt me forever.

That was four days ago. The last time I saw her beautiful face was when they wheeled her into surgery. Now, I have to face the reality that I'll never see it again.

How the fuck am I supposed to find the strength to bury her tomorrow, to say goodbye to the only woman who made my dreams come true?

I'll never know why she saved me at the cost of her own life. And right now, I don't know how to live without her.

My nights are filled with darkness, alcohol, and anything else I can find to numb the pain. No one tells you that when you lose someone, especially a partner, you lose parts of yourself. Parts that only they knew.

You lose part of your story. Your grief isn't just about coming to terms with the loss of your partner, but also an aspect of yourself that might be gone forever.

You grieve for your partner, but also for the memories they held, the ones you might have forgotten. You grieve for the parts of you they loved, parts that are now lost forever.

When you share your life with someone and they die, they're not just missing from your life, they're gone from your future. We were robbed of our chance, our future, our family. This reality can bring anyone to their knees—it's so painfully sharp and real.

Going home to an empty house is terrifying. Waiting for a loved one to return home and suddenly remembering they'll never come back is devastating.

The death of a partner can be a huge shock. Even when you know it's coming, it's still a painful, dreadful shock. People keep telling me the pain will ease in time. But four days in, the pain isn't getting any easier. You just change as a person and learn to live with the constant ache in your soul.

I'm tired of people who barely know me telling me that losing someone you love changes you. It alters you on a cellular level. Parts of your old self remain, but so many things about you change. They're right, but they don't know me enough to understand how I feel or what I'm thinking.

That's the thing—grief changes how you see the world. What you find important changes. Who you let into your life changes. How you love changes. You can't go through something this big and not be forever changed. You can't go back to who you were before. Death ends one life, and awakens another.

Everything about you will be different, and coming to terms with that is a personal and emotional process that takes energy and an open mind—neither of which I have right now.

When it comes down to it, all that matters is love. Grief can't take that away. It's a dull ache in the bottom of your heart that gets heavier each day. Grief magnifies everything. The sadness in life is nothing compared to the intense longing and sorrow I feel now. Everything feels louder somehow.

Grief reveals a lot. It shows you who your friends are. It shows you who you are. It shows you who really cares about how you're doing, and who's just asking to fill the silence. Through grief, you lose many people. They won't like the new you. But I don't care. I'd trade them all for one more day with her.

They won't agree with your choices. They'll judge you, or they simply won't understand why you can't just get over it. Why? Because it fucking hurts. It shows you who's worth your energy and who you should let go. I can't process the grief that dominates my life. My emotions are out of control, and I'm in constant denial that this is happening.

Everyone keeps checking on me and I just want to scream at them to fuck off. I don't want to see anyone. I just want to see her. Only her. I want to hear her angelic voice in my ear as I close my eyes.

I reach for my scotch and find the bottle empty. I stumble over to the bar to get another, ignoring the doorbell. It's probably Lachie again, trying to check in. Do I give a fuck right now? Absolutely not. I grab the bottle and stumble back to my chair, opening it as the doorbell keeps ringing.

After ten minutes, the ringing finally stops. I'm glad he got the hint to fuck off. I lean back in the chair, drinking straight from the bottle. My eyes are closed, and I'm trying to picture her in my head when I hear a knock on the glass doors in front of me. I jerk my head up and look outside.

There they stand.

Stephen. Clint. Dave.