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The rows filed out one-by-one, taking black-suited mourners from their seats and out of the large double doors of the venue. Stefan was sat near the back, beside Satpal, on an uncomfortable plastic chair. At the front of the room was a coffin, surrounded by framed pictures of Colin.
Everybody there from Tuckersoft was directed to the back. They were only considered to be acquaintances, after all. Because of this, their’s was one of the first rows to leave. Stefan moved wordlessly, the only sounds in the room being the scraping of chairs and the scuffing of shoes. He waited desperately for anyone to break the silence, he needed to hear something, anything . Even the voice in his head had become white noise.
Eventually, the funeral guests began to move into the bar next door, where the wake was taking place. Stefan hung behind in the car park, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it, just for something to do. Colin was right, he mused, as he took a drag. I have gotten used to this.
There were footsteps behind him, and Stefan turned to see a head of voluminous orange hair. Beneath that hair was Kitty. Her cheeks were tear-stained, her makeup mere remnants after being completely washed away. In her arms, was a peaceful, sleeping baby.
Stefan’s stomach turned at the sight of them, Kitty and Pearl, Colin’s girlfriend and daughter. “Aren’t you coming in?” She asked, and Stefan shook his head. “Not yet. I’ll be in soon.” He looked away and took another drag to evade the conversation, but Kitty wasn’t done talking.
“You were good friends with Colin, weren’t you?” She prompted. “You didn’t know him for long, but he spoke about you all the time.” Stefan turned back to her despite himself, the muscles in his eyebrows growing tense. “He did?”
“All the time,” Kitty assured him, then let out a humourless laugh. “It was quite annoying, actually.”
Stefan turned again, not having the nerve to meet Kitty’s eyes. He didn’t have any right to be jealous, why would he? Kitty was Colin’s girlfriend, the mother of his child, and Stefan was his…coworker? Regardless, jealousy began to fester inside him, like the smoke sitting heavy in his lungs.
“He actually left something for you,” Kitty said swiftly, seemingly sensing the tension in the air and being eager to rectify it. Stefan almost dropped the cigarette from between his fingers. They shook as he hesitantly glanced at Kitty. “What?”
“A letter,” she replied. “He wrote ones for me and Pearl too. You must have been very close with him to get one.”
“We were close,” Stefan confirmed. He didn’t even know if that was true. They had hardly known each other in this timeline. He didn’t even know if Colin had remembered the others.
He had never received a letter from Colin before. Then again, he had never been to Colin’s funeral either. He asked himself, what could it say? What could he want to say to me that he couldn’t say to my face?
Kitty took a step backwards, in the direction of the door. “Come with me. It’s inside.”
“I’d like to read it alone,” Stefan insisted. He hadn’t had the thought a second before, but he guessed it was what he wanted. However, it didn’t seem to be what Kitty had in mind, as she huffed at him, frustratedly.
“Well, I’m not going to bring it out for you. So come and get it.” She turned and walked back into the bar, tucking Pearl’s head into the crook between her neck and shoulder. It felt to Stefan as if Pearl was glaring at him, her dark little eyes blaming him for her father’s death.
He blamed himself too. Though he hadn’t made the choice to, Stefan had killed Colin. There was no denying that. He had told Colin to jump. He could have died instead.
Stefan crept into the bar, keeping to the walls as to not be noticed. His plan seemed to work as he was able to grab the envelope and escape back outside without acknowledgement.
He waited for a few seconds, staring at his name scrawled on the envelope, until he knew he was alone. Only then did he open the letter.
It was written messily, as if in a hurry, on a lined page, seemingly ripped from a notebook.
Dear Stefan,
I’m sorry to leave you like this, but I just needed you to know the truth. I can’t help you on every step of the journey, you have to leave the nest at some point. Maybe now is too early, but I don’t make those choices, just like you don’t. I’m just along for the ride. If I had it my way, we’d always be together, no matter what. Til death do us part, and all that bollocks.
I don’t know if you remember, if you don’t, maybe this will help you, but there are timelines where I was able to tell you that I love you. Actually tell you, to your face.
We both live past that night, you finish your game, and I’m still alive. You’re always too shy to make the first move, but I know by now when you want to, because you get this look in your eye and you get all nervous.
So I kiss you first. I tell you I love you, and you always say it back. I miss saying that. It’s hard to look at you sometimes, and not just blurt it out.
I hope you don’t hate me for what I’ve done, I hope you remember this letter for next time, because there will be a next time, and you won’t hate me then either.
In fact, if you can still find it in yourself, I hope you will love me then. Because I love you.
Colin.
Stefan stared blankly at the paper in his hand. Colin had remembered, he realised. He had remembered everything.
He held the letter close to his chest, careful not to crease the paper, and let hot tears fall down his cheeks.
He hoped desperately that he would go to sleep that night, and wake up back in July, back in a world with Colin in it.
“I want to try again,” he begged through tears. He hoped whoever could make that happen, whoever made that choice, could hear him then. “Let me try again.”
Stefan stood on the balcony, cold wind whipping at his face. Colin watched him stumble closer, his eyes challenging.
He was egging Stefan on, encouraging him to choose. “One of us is jumping? Which one of us is it going to be? Who’s jumping?”
Stefan’s thoughts were muddled and blurry, but within them he could see something new. A letter, a letter that he had never read, a funeral he had never attended. Suddenly, he remembered.
“None of us,” Stefan insisted, to his own surprise, as much as Colin’s. “You’re not going to jump, and neither am I.”
Colin stared, dumbfounded. “You can’t make that choice,” he argued, but Stefan ignored him. “Of course I can. I won’t lose you again.”
Stefan leaned forward and kissed Colin slowly, giving him the time to pull away. But he didn’t, he kissed back, pulling Stefan closer.
“By the way,” Stefan said, pulling away for only a moment. Colin kissed him once more before letting him continue. “You can get rid of that letter. You won’t be needing it.”