Page 17 - It Ends with Us

“There was no thi ng tha t could be done by the time he made it to

the operating table. Ever yone around —nu rses , other doctors—t hey
all fel t so sorr y for the family. ‘Tho se poor parents,’ the y said. But when I
ha d to walk int o the waiting room and tel l tho se parent s tha t thei r
chi ld didn’t make it, I didn’t feel an ounc e of sorro w for them . I
want ed them to suffer. I want ed them to feel the wei ght of thei r
igno ranc e for keep ing a loaded gun withi n acces s of two inno cent

chi ldren. I want ed them to kno w tha t no t onl y did they just lose a
chi ld, they just ruined the ent ire life of the one who accident ally
pulled the trigger.”
Jesus Chr ist. I wasn’t prep ared for somet hing so hea vy.
I can’t ev en conc ei ve ho w a family moves past tha t. “Tha t poor
boy’s brother,” I say. “I can’t imagine wha t tha t’s going to do to hi m—
seei ng somet hi ng like tha t.”

R yle flicks somet hi ng off the knee of hi s jea ns . “It’ll des troy hi m for
life, tha t’s wha t it’ll do.”
I turn on my side to face hi m, lifting my hea d up ont o my hand . “Is
it ha rd? Seei ng thi ng s like tha t ev er y day?”
He gives hi s he ad a slight sha ke. “It sho uld be a lot ha rder, but the
more I’m around dea th, the more it just bec omes a part of life. I’m

no t sure ho w I feel about tha t.” He makes ey e cont act with me again.
“Give me ano ther one, ” he says. “I feel like mine was a little more
twisted tha n yours.”
I disagree, but I tel l hi m about the twisted thi ng I did a mere twel ve
ho urs ago.
“My mother asked me two days ago if I would del iver the eu logy at
my father’ s funera l today. I told her I didn’t feel comfortable—t ha t I

might be crying too ha rd to spea k in front of a crowd—b ut tha t was a
lie. I just didn’t want to do it bec ause I feel like eu logies sho uld be
del ivered by tho se who res pec ted the dec ea sed . And I didn’t much
res pec t my father.”
“Did you do it?”
I no d. “Yea h. Thi s morni ng .” I sit up and pull my leg s benea th me

as I face hi m. “You want to he ar it?”
He smiles . “Absolutel y.”
I fold my ha nd s in my lap and inha le a brea th. “I ha d no idea wha t
to say. About an ho ur bef ore the funera l, I told my mother I didn’t