Bittersweet Memories: Part 1 – Chapter 2
Bittersweet Memories
I look up into the most beautiful dark green eyes Iâve ever seen, surprised to find no pity in them⦠thereâs only understanding.
I take the handkerchief with trembling hands and sniff as I wipe away my tears. âThank you,â I tell him, my voice hoarse. My heart is aching so badly that I think I might be sick, and I clench the fabric in my hands, as though Iâm hoping itâll give me the strength I need today.
âWhatâs your name?â he asks.
I look into his eyes, and something about his gaze takes the edge off my pain. Heâs kneeling in front of me, no doubt ruining his suit pants, yet his entire focus is on me. âAlanna,â I whisper before looking down again.
I trace over the embroidery on his handkerchief absentmindedly, feeling numb. âPsi?â I ask, referring to the greek letter on the fabric.
He nods. âYouâre a clever one, arenât you? Iâm surprised you know what letter that is.â
I look up at him indignantly. Itâs clear he thinks Iâm a child, and it annoys me. âWhy Psi?â
He smiles, but it doesnât reach his eyes. âItâs my name. Or, well, itâs a nickname. Itâs interesting that you pronounced it the same as sigh. Most people pronounce the P too.â
Psi. What is that short for? Simon, I assume. Itâs a bit of an old-fashioned name, so Iâm not surprised heâd abbreviate it.
âItâs Ancient Greek,â I murmur. âNone of us truly know how itâs pronounced, right? As far as Iâm aware, both pronunciations are considered correct.â
Si sits down next to me and smiles, startling me. Until now, I hadnât even realized just how handsome he is. âNow, where did you learn that, little girl?â
I narrow my eyes at him. âIâm thirteen, Iâm not a little girl. Iâll be fourteen next week.â
He chuckles and shakes his head. âYeah, I remember being your age and feeling the same way. Iâd tell you to enjoy being so young, but I always hated it when people said that to me. All I wanted to do was grow up already. But let me tell you a secret: even when you get to my age, youâll still feel like a child.â
I roll my eyes at him, my previous grief melting away. âOkay, Grandpa. How old are you?â
He crosses his legs and smiles. âIâm eighteen. Much older than you.â
I shake my head and huff. âFive years, or probably more like four and a half years. You act like youâre ancient, but you canât even buy a drink yet.â
Si bursts out laughing, startling me once again. Heâs so handsome that he could fit right into every single one of my favorite boy bands. That thick dark hair thatâs in the same style as a few of my favorite Korean actors, and those cheekbones should be in magazines⦠heâs the kind of guy Iâd never dare speak to at school.
âYouâre clever and sassy, huh?â
I smirk at him, and he stares at me for a moment.
âIâm glad youâre smiling now, Alanna. Considering where we are, I can only imagine how much pain you must be in. Iâm sure you found yourself sitting here because it was all too much and you didnât want anyone to see you fall apart. Itâs how I feel too⦠but donât forget that sometimes, letting others be there for us is a way of offering consolation too. Whoever you ran away from might need you more than you think. Sometimes, having someone who shares your grief makes it more bearable.â
I look into his eyes, recognizing the pain in them. âDo you have someone who you can share your grief with?â
He shakes his head and looks away. âNot anymore.â
I reach for him without thinking and grab his hand, my grip tight. âYouâve got me now, Si.â
He chuckles and tightens his grip on my hand. âHas no one ever warned you about strange men?â
I pout and look away. âYouâre hardly a man.â
Si coughs, and I look back at him to find him looking at me with an outraged expression.
âLittle girl,â he says. âIf you werenât so young, Iâd feel inclined to defend my honor.â
I burst out laughing, my hand still in his. âDefend your honor⦠honestly, itâs like you stepped out of one of my tv shows.â
He smiles and leans in, tenderly brushing my hair behind my ear in an almost brotherly way. âIâm serious, though, Alanna. Please be careful around people you donât know, okay? Itâs when weâre hurting most that people are most likely to take advantage of us. Keep that in mind, okay?â
I nod, my smile melting away. âDoes that mean I should be worried about you speaking to me?â
He shakes his head. âNever me, sweet girl.â
Si pulls his hand out of mine and looks away. âI need to head back, and you should, too. Your family is probably looking for you. Today must feel incredibly hard for you, and I can tell you from experience that the pain never truly fades, but youâll learn to live with it, Alanna. Each day, itâll get a little easier to breathe, until one day, you find yourself smiling at the same memories that once made you cry.â
He rises to his feet and offers me his hand. I take it, and he pulls me up, making me stumble forward. Si catches me and steadies me, his hands on my shoulders.
âThank you,â I murmur, feeling oddly flustered. Iâve never had a crush on anyone other than celebrities, but I think I might be developing one now.
I stare at Siâs handkerchief for a moment, unsure whether I should give it back to him or not. Itâs filthy now, and Iâm too embarrassed to hand it to him.
âKeep it,â he says, his voice soft. âIf we ever meet again, you can return it to me.â
I nod and fold the fabric carefully. âThank you, Si. Not just for the handkerchief, but also for sitting here and talking to me without asking me who I lost or what happened. Itâs⦠it justâ¦â
âI know,â he says, a cute smirk on his face. âI know, because Iâm in just as much pain, and I definitely donât want to talk about it either. Remember what I said, okay? Donât lose yourself in your grief. Let the people who love you be there for you.â
âYes,â I murmur, nodding. I hadnât really thought of it that way before, and heâs probably right. Dad must be hurting too, and maybe the two of us will get through this together.
Si turns and walks away, looking back at me once heâs a few steps away. I donât want him to leave, but I donât know how to ask him to stay. âSee you around, Alanna.â
I bite down on my lip and wave at him before he walks in the opposite direction of where I need to be. I stare at his back for a few moments as I try to gather my courage.
Normally itâd be Mom Iâd turn to when Iâm as upset as I am today. But how can I, when itâs her I lost?
Iâm absentminded as I walk back to her grave, not wanting to face the fact that weâre burying her today. I wish I could just go home and pretend this isnât happening, but I canât.
âAlanna!â Dad rushes up to me, his eyes red from the endless tears heâs shed, his expression worried. âAre you okay, sweetheart?â
Dad wraps his arms around me, hugging me tightly, and I hug him back with all my strength. âNo,â I admit. âIâm not okay, Dad. It feels like Iâll never be okay again.â
He rests his chin on top of my head, his body trembling just as mine is. âI know, sweetie. I feel the same way, but we will be fine. So long as weâve got each other, weâll be okay, wonât we?â
I nod. âYeah,â I whisper. âI just donât understand. Why werenât we enough, Dad? Why would she⦠why didnât she stay for me? Didnât Mom love me? Why wasnât I enough?â
Dad tightens his grip on me. âShe did, Alanna. Mom was just very sick, and the medication never made her better. It just⦠It just made her more depressed. It isnât anything you did, my love. It isnât your fault at all, okay?â
I nod, but I canât help but wonder what I couldâve done to prevent my motherâs death. If Iâd told her that I love her more often, would that have prevented her from taking her own life?