Page 139 of Always Love You More

I give myself a few seconds before pushing open the door, and my eyes automatically drift over to Johnny’s side. It looks the same as it always has—all his things still in their place, as if waiting for him.

We never talked about what we’d do with his things. I guess it just seemed natural to leave them be.

After a few weeks passed, I expected Carson to start taking over the room, but he’s left Johnny’s side completely untouched.

It’s still hard for me to come in here. Each time I push through the door, it’s like I expect I’ll magically find him waiting inside. There are those few seconds of misplaced hope before I realize the room is empty.

Because, of course it is.

I let out a breath and step through the door, walking over to set the basket of clothes down on Carson’s bed. I’m halfway there when my foot catches on something and I stumble forward, dropping my hands down in front of me to catch my fall.

The carpeted floor cushions my hands and knees, but the folded basket of clothes is now dumped all over the ground.

Great.

I start collecting everything, refolding them and putting them back in the basket, but when I grab for a pair of socks that rolled under Johnny’s bed, my hand brushes over something hard.

I pull it out, and my heart drops when I see a small box wrapped in shiny silver paper. There’s an envelope taped to the top with “Bug”scrawled across it in Johnny’s handwriting.

I fall back on my heels, the box gripped tightly in my hand.

It takes me a second before my mind clears and I realize he must have gotten me this for my birthday.

I scramble up to my feet and quickly throw any remaining clothes on the floor into the laundry basket. I set it on Carson’s bed then rush into my room, locking the door behind me.

I gently set the box down on my desk, my eyes fixed on it like if I look away, it’ll disappear.

Should I open it?

I start to pace.

What am I thinking? Of course I’m going to open it.

I move to grab it, but stop short. Maybe I should wait for Jameson. I don’t know if I can do this alone.

My brother’s handwriting stares back at me.

No, I decide. I can’t wait. It could be hours until Jameson gets here. There’s no way I can knowingly have something from my brother and wait hours to open it.

I snatch the box from its place on the desk and drop down onto my bed. Carefully, I peel the envelope from the box. I drag my finger over the front of it, over the name only Johnny ever called me. My throat tightens, tears threatening to fall.I can’t do this.

I set the envelope down and eye the box in front of me, grabbing that first.

I tear the paper open before I can overthink it. Inside is a deep green velvet box. Snapping it open, my breath catches.

Cushioned inside is the mostmering I’ve ever seen—a silver vintage style band with an onyx stone.

It’s perfect.

I pull it from the box and slide it onto my finger, holding my hand back to look at it. I’ve always worn a bunch of rings, usually cheap ones I find at the thrift store, but I’ve never had one as nice as this.

I remove the card, and as I start to open the envelope, a tear drops down, hitting the paper.

The card is simple, a black background with “Happy Birthday”written in silver. It matches the ring.

Hesitantly, I open the card and read the last words I’ll ever get from my brother.

Happy 16th Birthday