Love's Suicide: Love's Suicide (2 page)

They kept quiet, knowing I would make them leave if they tried to comfort me.

Finally, after I’d sobbed so much that my eyes were on fire, Branch got up and started to leave. “I’m going to go see if they found out anything else. Dad said they were doing interviews at hospitals.”

Brooks scooted over next to me and grabbed my hand. He said nothing, but held it and didn’t let go. It was a tender moment between us that I knew I’d never forget.

My parent’s bodies were both found in the rubble
two days after the attacks. I wasn’t present for the identification, but Danica and my aunt, who had flown in from England, were. When they came back into the house that day, I could tell that they’d recovered them.

By that point, we’d already known they were gone.
After the first day, Danica was smart enough to call the phone company and listen to the messages from our landline. It was there that she heard both of their voices saying their final goodbyes to me.

We didn’t know why she’d gone to see him that day, but they had been together when the plane struck the building. They’d called from my dad’s cell phone
, and in the background you could hear people screaming and suffering. I knew Danica didn’t want to let me listen to it, but she knew they’d want me to hear them saying their goodbyes.

We were sitting in my house, just the two of us
, when she put the phone on speaker and hit for the message to repeat. She looked away as my father’s voice came on the line.

“Katy, it’s D
ad. Listen, honey, I don’t know how to say this to you.” I could hear him breaking down and never had known my father to ever get emotional. “Sunshine, I just want you to know that I love you. Every single day spent with you was a blessing. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. No matter where you are, or what you’re doing, I’ll always be with you. Don’t forget it, Katy.”

I heard them shuffling the phone around and then my mother’s voice was on the line. “Katy. Oh my God, John I can’t do this.” H
er cries were loud and muffled the phone. I could hear him comforting her and felt the warm rush of tears rolling down my face. “Katy, we love you. I love you so much. Katy, I love you, honey. I wish I was there holding you right now. I hate that this is on the machine, John. I can’t say goodbye like this. Wait, what was that noise?”

Then the line went dead.

And there were no other messages.

The phone call had made my biggest fears a reality. My parents were dead.

Chapter 1

September 11
th
2006

“I can’t believe it’s been five years,” Branch said as he held my hand tightly.

I took a deep breath and tried to distract myself from getting choked up.
“I know. I still remember them that morning. Mom burned a bagel and the whole house filled with smoke. I thought there was a fire when I came downstairs. My dad told her he’d grab something on the way to work, instead of having her burn another one. Wasn’t it funny how she could make anything from scratch, but something as simple as a bagel was an epic fail for her?”

“Yeah. Maybe she was just always too preoccupied. Making a homemade meal takes concentration, but when you throw a bagel in the toaster, you can walk away and do other things.
Besides, I’m pretty sure that toaster was from the dark ages anyway.”

We both laughed, needing something to smile about as we walked toward the headstones.

“Mom never wanted to buy new things. My dad had this pair of jeans that he mowed the lawn in. I swear she sewed them and patched them at least four times. He even tried to throw them away and she got them out of the trash.” It wasn’t a secret that my mother saved everything. To people that didn’t know us; they would have assumed we were poor. She never bought anything for herself and I had to beg, borrow and steal to even attempt to have anything in style for school.

I didn’t find out until I was sixt
een that they’d saved a lot of money and it was put into a trust that I could have when I was twenty-two. I knew I would cherish that money and put it towards something good that they would be proud of.

Being at the cemetery was something I tried to avoid, but every year on the anniversary of my parent
’s death I had to come.

Had it not been for the Valentines, I would have had to move to England with my aunt that I hardly knew. I think in my seventeen years of life I had seen her three
times, if that. Compared to living next door to the Valentine’s house and spending the majority of our time with them, she was out of the question.

One good thing was that my mom and dad had been organized. They’d had a will and a
lso named the Valentines as my legal guardians in the event that both of them had died. My aunt had tried to have the courts grant her custody anyway, but she lost after they let me talk to the judge in private. No judge in their right mind was going to give a child to a practical stranger when a loving family that I was familiar with had already been arranged. Since that day I’d never gotten one single birthday call, present, or even a card.

I was twelve when my parents
perished in the terrorist attack on the Pentagon and the Twin Towers, on September 11. My father worked as a highly classified agent, who dealt with Presidential events. He was in charge of making sure the security was in order and overseeing any threats. My mom stayed home and designed greeting cards. You know those cards that you open and immediately begin to weep? My mother probably wrote that one. We still don’t know why she was there so early in the morning to meet with him, but their last phone call to me let me know that they were together when they took their last and final breaths. It wasn’t exactly peaceful, but it did give me some kind of comfort knowing that they weren’t alone. If I had to die that way, I’d want to be with the person that I loved.

My mom was always the romantic
, and I guess that explains why she did what she did for a living.

Since the
day they died, I’ve never purchased a single card, nor have I opened one. I couldn’t take the chance that it was something she designed.

I stared down at the names on the matching headstones.

Loving Father. Loving Mother.

Tears filled my eyes, even after I’d promised myself that this year would be the one where I could handle visiting without breaking down.
It wasn’t as if I never cried for them. Whenever there was a moment in my life that required a parent, I lost it. While seeing my friends with their families, or watching a mother hugging her daughter in public, even a little girl holding the hand of her father would cause me to break down.

I
guess that it had been happening for so long that I was just used to it. No matter how hard I tried, I knew I couldn’t prevent it. I’d been jipped from having that bond with the two people that brought me into the world. We’d never share a meal, a cry, or a holiday together again.

I suppose I could blame the President, or the terrorists that took them away from me, but it wouldn’t bring them, or the other thousands of people that died b
ack. Instead those of us that were left without them had to suffer. I looked around the cemetery and saw several groups of people standing over graves. When something with an impact like September 11
th
happens, it affects communities. My parents weren’t the only people that our town had lost. The total was one hundred and twenty-five people, fifty-five military personnel and seventy civilians to be exact. My stomach turned imagining all of those people being buried in the ground before they even had the chance to live.

Brooks
caught our attention at the right time when he walked up behind us and smacked my ass. “Sorry I’m late. I had something to do this morning.”

Knowing
Brooks, he was probably doing another one of our classmates. Ever since Branch and I decided to go public, Brooks had been throwing himself at anything that walked, claiming he was finally ‘free to roam about the country’. Yes, he actually said that. Unlike his twin brother, he wasn’t ever serious and made a joke out of things that were absolutely inappropriate. That’s why I knew I’d chosen the right brother.

Even though identical, they were very different in my eyes.
Branch kept his hair neatly cut. He dressed preppy, and you could tell that he could accomplish anything he set his mind to. They both had light brown hair and the same dreamy blue eyes. Branch had the most beautiful straight white teeth. He excelled in sports and was even up for a baseball scholarship. He’d pitched a perfect game while the recruiters sat in the stands evaluating him. In fact, mostly everything about Branch was perfect.

Brooks
, who’d always been my go-to, was now the opposite.

I would say our relationship
changed during our sophomore year. He’d started not to care about anything. He did everything half-assed. Nothing was important enough to make him want to be different, not even me.

Like his brother, their features were the same, but his hair was longer and rough looking
now. He dressed grungy and didn’t care what anyone thought about him. While his brother played sports, Brooks played video games, built things in the backyard, and caused trouble around the neighborhood.

That’s why when the time came to choose between them, I
had a terrible time deciding. Though I’d always loved both of them from the time when we were all in diapers, Branch only ever picked on me, while Brooks did everything in his power to stand up for me and keep me safe.

It was a no-brainer.

Except Brooks never asked to be with me, like Branch had. He acted like being in a relationship with me was like dating his own sister. It hurt.

I’d depended on both of them and shared every emotion possible with them, only to be pushed aside when I was ready to take thing to the next level.

Branch was there to pick up the pieces and be my boyfriend. He wasn’t like a consolation prize or anything. I loved him too, just in a different way.

Being with him started out difficult.

Besides the fact that it pushed Brooks away from our friendship, we also had to attend to the fear that us being involved while living in the same house was going to cause major issues. By the time we told his parents we were seventeen, so close to turning eighteen. After a nice dinner, we sat across from them and let them know that we were in love and together as a couple.

They took it as well as
could be expected. For a while they tried to keep us from being alone. Brooks was also involved in that, by wedging himself in everything Branch and I wanted to do together, but never having a good time hanging out with us. Then finally, after about two months, they gave up.

Branch
and I had mutual goals. We were going to attend college together the following year. Once we’d graduated, we’d start planning our wedding, and the rest would fall into place.

If only my parents were around to see the future that we had planned out. They’d
have been so proud.

I felt
Branch’s loving arms holding me close. “Mom said dinner’s at six. If you want to go see that movie, we better get going.”

Every year, since the first anniversary
of their deaths, Danica Valentine would slave in the kitchen for an entire day making my mother’s family recipe of sour beef and dumplings. It had become a tradition that was more dear to her heart than any other normal holiday. Since she and my mother had been friends since college, she took pride in doing it. In fact, that friendship was the reason we lived next door in the first place. My parents and their parents had been close friends and built the houses at the same time.

We spe
nt all of our time with them, so transitioning to their house wasn’t hard because of that. I think the hardest part was watching my house go up for sale and new people with children moving in. Every time I saw the little girl come outside I thought about my family, or lack thereof.

I had to be thankful for what I had left, which included Branch, Brooks and the
ir loving parents. Without them I don’t know where I’d be.

“I’m ready whenever you are.” Branch looked over and winked at me.

Brooks jumped in front of us. “What movie are you going to see?”

“Nothing you’d like,” Branch answered abruptly.

I felt bad immediately at the way Branch was acting. Brooks was just trying to be my friend, and his own brother was wedging himself between us.

We left Brooks standing at my parent’s graves
, and I had to admit that I felt bad about it even though I probably shouldn’t have. Even though Branch was my choice, and probably the right choice, Brooks was still dear to me. He’d always been there when I needed him in a way that Branch never was.

N
o matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop loving him and remembering back to that moment of our first kiss.

To stick to our plans
, I’d decided to bury those secret feelings for Brooks. Branch and I were going to be happy together, and Brooks would just be my brother-in-law. He’d always been in my life and that gave me comfort, somehow knowing that I’d never have to let either of them go.

It was how it had to be.

It was how he wanted it to be.