Will We Ever Heal from Our Parents' Deaths

"I'm not giving up!" I slammed my fist on the table, teeth clenched.

"Jess, you've got to calm down," Dylan urged.

"Don't you dare! I won't let her go without justice. SHE WAS MY MOTHER! You don't know the pain of losing her after all this time!"

"Well, guess what, Jess? I don't have a mother either. I had to watch her die. I felt utterly useless as she struggled for air, as the fire consumed everything!!!" Dylan's voice cracked.

Tears streamed down my face.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean it that way. I lost control and—" I stammered.

He sank onto the sofa, head in his hands.

"Dylan, are you okay?"

He raised his tear-filled eyes. Tears! I'd never seen him cry before.

"Jess, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lashed out at you. I'm sorry for crying when I should be consoling you."

Guilt tightened around my heart. I wiped his tears away.

"It's okay to cry. I was too caught up in my own pain to realize you were hurting too."

"I never thought about how you dealt with your parents' deaths," I admitted sadly.

"It's alright, Jess. It's all in the past now," his eyes held so much sorrow.

He managed a shaky smile. "But—"

"Shh," he whispered as he touched my lips gently.

"Let me comfort you," he said softly.

I chuckled softly. "You're always comforting me. Let me make you feel safe this time."

I opened my arms, inviting him for a hug. His cold body enveloped me, and I gently patted his back.