Epilogue – Aston
I tug the zipper of my jacket up higher as a cold wind blows in off San Francisco Bay and fight the urge to turn and run back to the marina. I won’t run. This is something that has to be done, for me.
Megan squeezes my hand, curling into my arm, and we begin to walk into the small cemetery where my mom lies.
I feel sick. Emotion stronger than I’ve felt in a long time swirls around my whole body, from hatred to pity, fear to anger, yet through it all… Through it all is a bit of love for the woman that tried and failed to give me life.
We weave silently through the graves and markers, heading to the back of the cemetery. I hold the white rose I bought tightly, clutching it to my chest, and try to breathe deeply.
I will never forgive her. I will never forget her. But I can finally be at peace with her.
The small, black marble headstone sits alongside my Gran’s, and Megan places a small bunch of flowers against it silently. My eyes trace the letters of Mom’s graves, following the engraved patterns, and it begins to blur as my eyes sting with tears.
I sink down to my knees in front of the stone, letting the tears fall as they need to, and set the rose down. The white of the rose is a stark contrast to the black of the marble, like my childhood innocence was a contrast to my mom’s mature promiscuity.
Even now, it follows her. In life and in death.
“We’re at peace now, Mom,” I say softly into the wind. “Whatever it was that made you the way you were, I’m glad you’re away from it. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you. Maybe I was too much. I’ll never know. I just hope you’re at peace now. And I… I love you.”
There are so many more words. I could yell at her grave, scream at it if I really wanted, but it wouldn’t have any effect on it. She would still be gone and it won’t change anything. Hating her can’t change the past, and I finally know that. Hating her won’t make it all go away. It won’t erase it.
I stand and look into Megan’s clear blue eyes. She clasps my hand, holding on tightly, and I follow her from the cemetery.
I said I’d never come back to San Francisco. I always knew I’d have to come back, and now I have.
Now I don’t ever have to come back. I don’t have to look back. I can travel back across the water to college, and stay on that side of the water.
And I can look into the blue eyes of the girl I love every day, making the life I always wanted.
THE END