QUOTE OF THE CHAPTER:

"Sadly enough, the most painful goodbyes are the ones that are left unsaid and never explained."

― Jonathan Harnisch, Freak

Dedication: @ughemmotions (for her sweet comments)

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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I don't resist when he offers to take me home. I barely remember getting into his white car, all the way back home and when he asks me where I exactly live, I describe it robotically. Maybe it's not me but my unconscious mind. I'm still trying to stomach the idea of my grandpa. Dead.

The word stings on my tongue. I can't seem to figure out what it actually means. So, is grandpa gone forever? He can't be. I was going to hug him - I was going to listen to his tales and he was going to call me chick. I've already used past tense. This is the impact death has on you. Even though you believe it or not, you can't shake it off your system.

Death isn't scary. It's just infectious - when someone dies, they aren't the only one. Death is a fire in which we burn, unconditionally and repeatedly. When death occurs, it's not just on someone, it's on everyone that is close enough to be burnt. That explains the burden inside my heart right now. I've never wished for ashes and dust before; but they might be less painful than the heat and fire itself.

I've never lost someone so close to me before. It is because either I don't have many relatives or I don't consider people close to myself. To me, family doesn't mean bloodline; it means care and love. Now, I am so weak. And I'm even weaker to hide my weakness. I remember I was about to collapse when my mind tried to register the idea of my grandpa's death. It was impossible; how could he die? He was old, yes, but he wasn't ill. He was okay. He seemed okay. He'd always tease me that he was going to live longer than me. And I always thought so - wanted to believe it. Because I knew that losing him was much worse than dying. So, I could die myself first rather than witnessing his death. But as always, life has different plans to offer on its plate. Different than what I've expected.

My grandparents married when my grandma was 18 and grandpa was 22. They always said how they loved each other. Well, they were actually arranged by their families, but they said they learnt to love each other. I'd scoff at that; how can you learn to love someone? My grandpa would say you can teach your heart to love as you can teach anything. It's all about determination. I'd admired them, I still do. Because teaching your heart how to love isn't as easy as they claimed it to be. Perhaps it was the condition of their generation. You had no choice but love who you were spoken for. It was the thing; they spoke for you. But it's also odd that divorce rate increased as freedom crept in.

My eyes on the road, I shake off from my deep thoughts when Levi breaks the silence for the first time since we've been in the car, or it's the first time I've ever paid attention. "Where to go next?"

I dart my eyes on the road, immediately recognising the streets and the place. We need to turn right. "Turn right," I mumble with a shaky voice. He does. "It's that one," I say when I spot my home at the corner of the street. As we get closer, I notice there's another car in the driveway. Levi parks the car behind it, and looks at me. "Jack, we can stay here for a while if you want."

I shake my head. I want to go there and face the truth. Then, taking a breath, I push the door open and forcefully let myself out. I can't feel my legs while walking towards the porch, and I realise that I'm about to fall when Levi holds and balances me. "Be strong." His breath brushes my ear but I can't seem to find that strength in me - or the tough girl who has never given a fuck. "Grandma is here," he adds.

I turn my head. "How do you know?" This explains the car. Did she drive all the way by herself?

"My mother told me."

"Who drove her here?"

"I don't know."

Sighing, I place the key into the lock and open the door. I spot Mum and grandma sitting in living room, their eyes red. They both turn at us when they hear the sound of door. I look at them blankly, remembering the conversation we've had with mother and how stupid I was to go have fun when she was crying her eyes out here. I planned stupid things when my grandpa died - instead of grieving, I have been in a stupid party. I'll never forgive myself for that.

"Jacqueline," my grandma cuts the silence. "Levi."

"Grandma." The next instant, I throw myself in her arms and it feels like home again after ages - the smell, the touch and the softness of her arms around me. Like she guards me against the world. She protects me. She puts barriers between me and the world. But right now, I wish she could save me from myself - from my thoughts and pain. But I know it's harder for her than it's harder for me. I've lost my grandfather.

On the other hand, she's lost her breath, her soul and her only friend in this world. I should be comforting her, I remind myself, don't be selfish. We cry for a while, loudly and without caring the people among us. It's one of the rarest times I let it out. My pain, my sadness. "Grandma," I manage to get out of my mouth between the tears, "why..." I can't finish the sentence but I know she gets it - she gets me.

She takes a deep breath to stop her sobs. "He - he had a heart attack."

And I wasn't there. I couldn't say to him that I love him. Did I tell him enough before? No. I wasn't the type of saying it frequently. But hope he knows that I fucking loved - love him. He was always closer to me than my father has ever been. I'll always love him.

"He couldn't make it."

"I didn't tell him goodbye. I've been a horrible granddaughter."

She caresses my hair. "No darling, you've been the most amazing thing in our lives. You've been a daughter to us. He always loved you, Jacqueline, he died loving you."

"I wasn't there for you for two years because of a stupid thing."

"It's okay, we fathom it."

"Grandma, I'm sorry. Does he know that I'm so sorry?" I am crying while asking that with a trace of hope in my tone.

"He sees you and he knows that - he knows everything. He probably is mad at us right now for crying. He was against the time-waste," she murmurs, chuckling softly. "Now he considers this as a waste. He'd have wanted us to smile."

"He used to tell me that life is so short to be sad over. That only good things should matter."

"And only good people should be allowed," she completed for me.

"He was so wise," I say in disbelief. "How can someone like him meet death? He seemed so permanent in this world, as if he was immortal."

"That we can't see him doesn't make him mortal, darling. He's immortal." She touches the left side of my chest. "Right there, in our hearts." A soft smile plays on her lips again although her eyes are teary. I admire her for everything; but right there, I admire her for her strength. Her heart is shattering, breaking into pieces but she smiles at me like life is still going on - there is a lot to handle. She looks at me like she's saying stay strong. She probably repeats it to herself all the time.

Even though she lost her love, she tries to keep me sane - she saves me. She's the epitome of a true mother.

"I missed you, grams," I whisper, my head buried in her chest. I let her brush away my pain with her fingers in my hair.

"I missed you even more, sweetheart."

When I reopen my eyes, it feels like I've been sitting like that, buried in my grandma's chest, for ages and there isn't neither my mother or Levi around. I feel my mouth dry; my tongue almost glued to my throat so I stand up. I notice my grandma has already fell asleep so I try not to wake her up with my motions.

I find Levi and mum sitting in the kitchen. I go to the drawer in which glasses are placed, and I grab one. I pour water and sit beside them at the small table. They both stare at me intently as I take a small sip from my water. "What?" I say after a while.

"Are you a bit better?" Levi asks. He seems tired, and I can't help feeling sorry for him, too.

I nod slightly.

Mum stands up and walks to the door.

"Mum," I whisper after her. She spins around. "Grandma is sleeping." She mouths an okay but leaves the kitchen anyway.

"He's treated me like his own grandson," Levi murmurs, his eyes on the table. "Even after I've hurt you - his own granddaughter." I open my mouth but he continues on. "Maybe he shouldn't have. He should have kicked me out and never let in but he always talked to me, gave me advices and now, I get how dumb I have been all the time." He is dumb, that's right. But hearing it from him is different. "I knew what I've done was wrong - but I was so pissed off and freshly broken up with my girlfriend so." He looks at me, ashamed. Maybe this is the moment I've always been longing for years but at this moment, it means nothing. "I am sorry Jack, for everything."

"I was dumb, too," I mumble. "I should've never trusted you."

He lets out a sharp chuckle. "True." Then, his expression softens. "But can you give me another chance? To be a friend, huh?"

"Levi, I don't know."

"Please."

"Okay," I acquisced. "For the sake of my grandpa."

He nods. I know that he probably tries to comfort himself in a way - he pays his debt to my grandpa. This is the least he can do - make up for his granddaughter. "Thanks."

"So, are you gonna stay here?" I ask, since it is now pretty late.

"Is it okay, uhm, for you?"

"Yeah, sure," I reply carelessly. "I'll arrange a bed for you." I stand up but he grabs my hands and pulls me to himself. For a while, we hug - his arms around me and my arms hanging at my sides. I don't really feel like hugging people.

"You are like my sister."

I look at him weirdly. "Please, don't," I say in disbelief. "I can never be your sister." How can you consider someone you've slept as your brother? What a sickening idea.

"I didn't mean it-"

"Levi, just be civil, okay? I don't expect anything from you."

He nods again and I head upstairs. Whilst walking to the empty room where he can stay, I notice my mother sitting on her bed and looking blankly. "Mum," I say and she turns her head at me. She lost her father, damn it, of course it's normal. "What are you doing?"

She shrugs her shoulders. "Nothing."

"Where is Dad?"

"He said he's going to stay up all night at work."

"Does he know?" I go and sit next to her and she embraces me.

"Yes. He really got upset."

"Yet he left us all alone." I can't help but sound angry.

"He is working for us - since I am not working anymore, he needs to double work."

"Mum, I love you." I don't know where it comes from but I feel the need to say that. Before it's too late.

She looks at me, taken aback but happy. "Love you, too." We hug each other for a while - and I realise what happens.

That is the magic of my grandpa - he has always been the best man in the world. Now, he's reconnecting us. He is teaching us a lesson as always.

I'll try not to disappoint you, grandpa. I'll try my best.

***

It is five in the morning when I turn up at Calvin's door. I couldn't sleep the whole night, either disturbed by old memories of my grandpa or crying sessions; but I didn't want to talk to anyone either.

I look up but normally, his light is off. The street is isolated and dark, but it doesn't scare me at all. I sit on a step of the stairs at the porch and dial his number. It rings, and I think he might keep his phone in silent mode at nights but luckily, he picks up after several rings. His voice is husky and hoarse, "Jack?" He is evidently shocked and sort of worried.

"Hey," I whisper.

"Why are you calling at the goddamn five?" He hisses. He sounds a bit better than before, he's sobering up.

"How do you know God damned five?"

He lets out a loud sigh. "Are you drunk?"

"No."

"What are you doing awake then?"

"I couldn't sleep." He doesn't speak for a while - just breaths. "Can you come here - I'm at your door?"

"My door?" I hear him moving and the bed's creak.

"Yeah," I say. "I was thinking-"

Then, the door opens and he comes out with a pair of keys in his hands. He softly shuts the door and sits beside me on the wooden step. "You were thinking what?"

I stuff the phone into my pocket. "Why you didn't show up at the party."

"Oh." He looks at me. "Did you go?"

I nod. "I thought you'd be there."

"There was no point," he says. "Why did you?"

"Richard thought it'd be fun."

He laughs, but there is no humor in his tone. "Everything is fun for him, isn't it?"

"He is nice." I suddenly find myself defending him. "He's been there for me lately."

He shoots me a sharp glance but say nothing. We stand like that for a minute before he speaks up. "Why did you come here then? You'd go to him. He's been there for you."

"He's not the one I want by my side." His expression softens. "But the one I want - if I remember correctly - asked me to leave him alone for a while."

"It wasn't - if you said you needed me, I'd be there for you." He looks down.

"I needed you - and you weren't there."

"Why would you need me at a party?" He whisper-yells.

"Not party, you dumb. I needed you after that. After I learnt about my grandpa's death."

He looks up at me again, this time his face is covered with shock and sympathy. "Jack, I didn't-"

I cut him off, my eyes focused on the ground, at our feet which are centimeters away from each other. "Levi told me. He brought me home, and he tried to soothe me. It was awkward. Levi was the last person I'd seek comfort from but he was right there and no one was. And no one would fucking get me like he would."

"I would."

"Then, my grandma was there, her eyes red and swollen but still, she tried to calm me. I should have calmed her instead but I was so weak. I lost one of the people who care about me, Calvin, and now, there is only a few of them left."

His hand presses on mine. "I care about you. You know that." Then, he slangs his arm around me and pulls me closer to himself until my head presses onto his chest. "How was he? Your grandpa?"

I mull over his words, trying to find the best way to describe my grandpa. "He was so optimistic, and idealist. He hated people who wasted their time on nothing and waited for something to happen. To him, if you wanted something, you had to do something. Don't wait. Say it. Do it, you know. I will always admire him for that. He was seriously amazing - I thought he'd live forever. He was my father, I never thought otherwise. He loved me as a daughter rather than a granddaughter. We used to eat vanilla ice cream every day. And swim. He was the one who taught me how to swim. And how to read. He used to write journals; when he was young, he said he travelled a lot."

"I'd like to read them," he pops in. "From what you've told, he sounds a remarkable person."

"He was."

"And I totally support his motto: 'Don't wait. Say it.'" I lift my head to look up at him. I remember what I went to the party for. And as his eyes melt into mine, I think it's the perfect time to say that.

"Calvin."

"Yes."

I love you. Before saying it aloud, I repeat it inside my head for several times to get used to the words. I'm not a type of it; but after realisation, I know I have to let it slip out of my mouth before things go complicated - before it's too late.

I open my mouth but those words never come out.

***