Page 139 of The Blessing

Epilogue

fifteen months later

We can never remember the pain—not specifically. The pain is so fleeting, but the scars… the scars we live with forever. My past feels so distant now. Like all of those things happened to a different person entirely. I’ve come so far and accomplished so much. I can’t even wrap my head around the man I once was. Sometimes, I worry that my memories are fading. I fear one day images of my brother completely. However, Ronnie assures me that will never happen. She tells me how vividly she remembers her mother—even after all these years. She says the pain of losing a loved one becomes a dull ache; eventually all you’ll remember are the good times you shared with them. I’m starting to believe this. After the closure I received with Travis, I felt like I could finally move on. It was like Dean could finally be laid to rest, and everything in my life had finally fallen into place.

I remember walking through life aimlessly. No direction, no goals, not even any hope. Dean gave me the greatest blessing in the world when he gave me Grey. A day will never go by without that being in the forefront of my mind. He and Cat gave me a second chance at life. A second chance to become the man they saw in me. I can’t fucking believe my brother had this sort of faith in me. Even today, I find his faith in me baffling. However, that’s why I fucking loved him. He managed to see the light in the darkest of situations. He’d still love someone even after all hope seemed lost. I’ll make sure Greyson knows the type of man his father was—the type of woman his mother was. I’ll make sure he knows just how much he meant to them. He was their world, but now he’s mine.

This past year hasn’t been fucking easy. Physical therapy was a grueling process. If I’d been the same man I was almost two years ago, I know I would’ve thrown in the towel before I could get any better. I used to constantly ask myself what the point was of trying in life at all. I had the outlook we were all going to be dead in the ground one day, so what’s the point of focusing one’s energies on shit that didn’t have any immediate gratification? If it didn’t make me feel good in the moment, why do it? It’s strange because I can vividly remember my obscene thoughts back then. It’s as if they were playing out before me on film, but I don’t remember that version of myself. I remember having those thoughts, but I can’t remember the process behind them. I feel completely detached from my previous life nowadays.

Sometimes, late at night, I’ll reminisce about the man I was before my brother’s death. I let my mind play over the past events like old television reruns, seeing the same memories in my mind time and time again. My memories since high school are vague and cloudy. Because of the drugs and alcohol, they just become one string of random scenes slewed together. Bright neon lights pulsing in a dank, dreary room, the smell of sweaty bodies and smoke, and the shaking discomfort I experienced before finding my next high is what sticks in my mind. In those days, my mind felt like it ran a never-ending marathon and my body felt lethargic as I went from one bed to the next. I thought I was happy, but I never realized what happiness truly was until Ronnie and Grey came into my life.

I say one last goodbye to my old life before taking another step toward my future. Today, I’m getting married to the woman who saved me from myself. The only woman who could ever handle a man like me. She’s the mother to my son. She’s everything I never knew I wanted in a wife and a partner. She’s my best friend. Even now, as I stand in front of the full-length mirror adjusting my bowtie, I wonder how the fuck I managed to get this beautiful woman to marry me. It doesn’t make sense because she could’ve had any man she wanted—yet, she wanted me. I haven’t been able to wipe the smile off my face all morning.

“Do you need help, son?”

I smirk at my dad as I watch him approach in the mirror’s reflection. I’ve been fumbling with this damn bowtie for the past ten minutes. I’ve been way too fucking fidgety to get it right. I drop my hands and allow him to do the job for me. Dad smiles as he fixes it, and I can’t help but smile back, enjoying the comfortable moment I have with him. This past year has been difficult for him, too. His life has been altered completely. Just like my life has been. After he found out the truth about Travis, Dad was silent for a long time. He was unable to believe the boy he treated like a son would grow up to murder Dean. Of course, Travis hadn’t intended to, and fuck, he would give up absolutely anything to take back that night. However, knowing that doesn’t make shit any easier. The blood was still on his hands, whether he wanted to realize it or not. While his pleas for forgiveness and tears moved me, my dad hadn’t been there to witness it. He didn’t see the guilt and pain Travis was in. He doesn’t understand how deeply his scars ran. Every time Dad looks at him, I know all he sees is Dean. Hopefully, time will change this perspective. I don’t want him dealing with all of this and holding onto hate, torturing himself when he could just let forgiveness free him.

He couldn’t go to Travis’s sentencing. He was just too fucked up at the time and couldn’t face him after knowing what he’d done. I was there and was rightly devastated. I felt for Travis in a way I didn’t think was possible. As I watched him sit on that stand all of my anger and crippling sadness disappeared because I knew my brother’s murder hadn’t been a malicious act. His death was an accident. A fucking terrible accident. Perhaps I’d feel differently about everything if the killer hadn’t been someone I loved. It’s just crazy how one bad decision, one misstep, can change the course of your life forever. In a fleeting moment you fuck-up, and then you spend the rest of your life paying for it. I’d say it’s unfair, but life is fucking unfair. If it wasn’t, Dean and Cat would still be alive and well. Living isn’t for the faint of heart. Truly, living takes guts, and Dean had those in spades. He lived every day to its fullest, so when his last day did arrive, he had no regrets. If I hadn’t changed my course so drastically, I’d have a shit ton of regrets.

I watched Travis get sentenced to twelve years behind bars. I watched his face as it crumbled upon hearing the judge’s ruling. I’ll never forget the look he gave me as the bailiffs began escorting him out of the courtroom. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed to me as his eyes pooled with tears. I was so moved by everything—still so hurt by my brother’s death—but I mouthed “I love you, Brother,” before he was pulled out of the courtroom. Those events shook me, and I wish my dad could’ve been there to witness them himself. Then, he might be finding it easier to forgive and move on.

Dad’s been a mess, but he’s put on a brave face for me today, which I’m more than fucking thankful for. He’s my rock and I need him. Although he rarely admits it, I know he needs me, too. I’ve visited Travis in prison by myself a few times over the past few months, despite my pleas for my dad to join me. I understand; I can’t push him to be a part of something he hasn’t even begun to accept. Seeing Travis behind a glass partition was a surreal experience. It made me realize how much I fucking miss him in my everyday life. Travis seemed at peace with where he was, but I couldn’t help wonder if he’s counting down the days until he’s released. It felt good seeing him because I felt fucking strong. I was strong enough to forgive him for Dean’s death. I think that’s the hardest thing I ever had to fucking do. It just goes to show how far I’ve come because the “old” Trevor would’ve never done it. That’s why I’m so baffled by my dad’s behavior. He’s always been such a forgiving man, but maybe this shit is just different. Sometimes, I find it hard to read my dad. However, during the important moments like this, I feel really connected to him.

As soon as he’s finished tying my bowtie he pulls back and smiles at me through the reflection in the full-length mirror. Then, out of nowhere, he starts to fucking chuckle.

“What is it?” I ask, suddenly feeling insecure about my appearance.

Dad quickly shakes his head, but I give him a look which causes him to smirk and finally fess up. “It’s just incredible how much you’ve changed, son. I still can’t wrap my mind around it. I mean, I thought great things would happen for you, Trevor, but this… I’m really proud of you, son.”

I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. “Thanks,” I say somewhat shyly, wondering if I’ll ever be used to hearing praise like that. “It’s pretty fucking crazy, isn’t it?”

He rolls his eyes at my “f-bomb” and nods his head. “Ronnie’s a lucky lady.”

“No, I’m the lucky one.”

Before my dad can respond, there’s an urgent tapping on the bathroom door. I grin because I know that knock. I cross the room to open the door for my impatient, yet, very excited little toddler. He scampers in, running straight between my legs, and stops right in front of the mirror to get a look at himself in his new tux. I used to think tuxes looked fucking creepy on kids—giving them serious The Omen vibes—but my two-year-old just looks adorable.

“Are you ready to see Mommy and Daddy get married?” I ask, kneeling down beside him.

“Yeah, Daddy!” he squeals, clapping his little hands together in excitement.

Since having Travis as my best man is no longer a viable option, I asked my dad and Grey to be my “best men,” giving Grey the important task of handing us our wedding bands. He’s been ecstatic about it all day, constantly patting his little pocket to make sure they’re still there. He wanted to hold onto them all day, so I made sure somebody was keeping a watchful eye on him at all times. Losing our wedding bands on our wedding day is the last thing I need.

“I good man!” Grey tells me, pulling out the rings to show me he’s still got them.

“You’re the best, best man a guy could ask for,” I tell him as I’m still kneeling down. I lean in to kiss his forehead.

“Love you, Daddy!” He throws his small arms around my neck and hugs me.

“I love you, too, buddy. So much.”

There are few times in my life when I’ve been completely speechless, and this is one of them. The quaint wedding we planned in our backyard has been transformed into an event fit for a fucking princess. Holy shit, Ronnie will absolutely flip when she sees this. Eden has gone completely off the deep end with the décor, but I fucking love every inch of it. It’s perfect—just like my girl. Honestly, I can’t believe this is my wedding. It all feels like a dream and, if it is, I don’t want to ever wake-up from it.

My jaw drops as I take in every detail. The lights strung through the trees and around our little makeshift stage, the white flowers that line the aisle and sit on every table in our reception area across the yard, and the rose petals that trail down our white aisle runner. I just can’t fucking believe it. I can’t believe we have people who love us enough to put this type of shit together.

“Wow, Daddy,” Grey approves, taking his thumb out of his mouth for a moment so he can stare at the scenery in wonder. When he’s finished looking, he turns to me and reaches up—which is hard for him to do in his tux. “Up, Daddy.” It’s not a question, it’s a command. I’ve got to smile.

How perfect is it to walk down the aisle with my little guy? In some ways, it’s almost like he brought Ronnie and me together, or at least, he broke the ice between the two of us and encouraged us to open up and finally fucking talk. I don’t know where I’d be without him. My world pretty much revolves around him already, so I want him to be part of this special day.