Page 72 of A Legacy of the Light

I don’t look back at him for fear the tears will spill out, and I quickly leave the library before the grief consumes me whole.

Chapter 19

As I head back to my room, I’m not paying attention to where I’m going, and find myself in front of the doors leading to the balcony that Tavish showed me on my first morning.

Using all my strength, I manage to create a gap big enough to slip through, and step out into the night. Still in my thin training gear, the cold November evening has me wrapping my arms around myself.

I trudge to the edge and lean on the stone balcony with my elbows, and stare into the twinkling lights of Elfayne below me. The wind is brisker than earlier today and blocks the sound of the city.

It’s just me, the stars, and my ever-present guilt.

My eyes close as the first tear falls. Followed by another. I thought I’d reached a point where my emotions wouldn’t be so volatile, but being here has distracted me so thoroughly that I have glimpsed the old version of me. I have laughed again and felt like I could breathe properly.

And that has left a twisted bitterness in the pit of my stomach. I don’t know how to get past this feeling that I’m not allowed to move on. That I will be leaving Mom and Granny behind if I do. The vicious circle is draining me.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Jesus fuck!” I scream and whirl to find Tavish stood behind me. “Do not creep up on me like that. Not all of us are immune to a heart attack,” I scold him.

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “I didn’t realize you were here until I saw you. Wait, why are you crying?” he asks, spotting the tears on my cheeks.

I quickly wipe them away. “I’m not,” I lie with a loud sniff, turning my head away from him in case any more fall.

Tavish joins me and leans his arms on the balcony, his black shirt rolled up to the elbows showing off his tanned skin and corded forearms.

“Please don’t lie to me, Elsie. We’re friends, and friends talk, right?”

I sigh. “I suppose.”

Tavish waits in silence with an expectant look on his face.

“Today is my Mom’s birthday. She would have been fifty-two.”

“Ah, I see.” I feel him scanning my face as I stare out into the night. “It took me a long time to be okay with things like that, too.”

“I forgot until about twenty minutes ago. I’ve never forgotten her birthday. Ever.” Guilt swamps me, and I clamp my lips together to stop a fresh wave of tears falling.

“Given everything that has happened to you in the last few days, I think you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself,” Tavish murmurs. “What would you normally do?”

“Grandpa and I would go and lay flowers on her grave and talk about her. Tell our favorite stories. I hate that he’s alone today.”

“He’ll be okay, Elsie. It’s not your job to worry about him.”

“I know, but he’s all I have. I can’t not worry about him.”

The wind is the only sound around us for a beat. “When my mother died, Father dealt with his grief by avoiding me. Maybe because I reminded him too much of her. But he left me alone. I was ten years old and didn’t really have anyone to help me.”

My heart breaks at his quiet confession. Dealing with my loss has been hard enough. I cannot imagine what it would be like as a child.

“It took a long time, but I dealt with it and moved on.”

I haven’t been able to speak so openly about my feelings with anyone. While it terrifies me to be this vulnerable with someone I have known for only a few days, I need to share this. Keeping it bottled up is eating me alive.

“I can’t shake that feeling of guilt about moving on with my life,” I tell Tavish.

“You’ll have heard this before. But you shouldn’t,” he replies, angling his body so he’s leaning on one elbow and facing me. “Your mum wouldn’t want you to feel that way, would she?”

A small smile pulls at my lips at the way he says ‘mum’. It’s the least formal he’s been.