The way it was supposed to be

Warning: This story contains emotional abuse and implied sexual content

I know that when people die, it's supposed to pour. You sit wallowing in self pity and grief while using up hundreds of tissue boxes and lay in bed for days at a time. Well, at least that's how people expected me to be in the aftermath of my mom's death. But nope, jokes on them. Because my mom isn't really gone, she's just waiting for the right moment to welcome me and Lana to where she lives now. But she will wait, and not get impatient because my mom was (is) never the kind of person to complain about anything-being in lines at Disneyland, being stuck in traffic, or even when the Trader Joes near our house would run out of salmon. No way, she would just smile, shrug, and whisper to me "That's the universe honey, it's telling us that this is how it was supposed to be." And the 3 of us would skip down the halls of wherever we were and laugh and talk. Of course, that was when I was just a naive 9 year old with a 12 year old sister that still believed that a boy would always love you. When she died, Lana drove over to my house and declared "Sierra McMahn, this is the universe telling us that it is up to us to learn how to live without leaning on her and when we are sufficiently done, she'll come back. Or we will go to her."

At 19, my mom died. I was a college sophomore failing quantitative literacy, still figuring out who I wanted to be, and freshly heartbroken from a two-year relationship—scrolling through old texts to convince myself I had actually been loved. It felt like the lowest point. But today, at 22, I’m living in Seattle and I just opened my own cafe. Most of the time, I feel like it's best not to dwell on the past. But-"Hello?"The man at the counter taps a finger against the glass. "I’ll take a dozen gingerbread men and a loaf of chocolate rugelach." He pauses, eyeing the board. "What’s the best drink here?" "In the winter? Probably the peppermint mocha or the Mexican hot chocolate."He turns to the woman beside him. "I’ll have the peppermint mocha," she says, her accent clipping the edges of the words. "I'll just take a black coffee." the man shrugs. "Luv, I’ll find a seat." the woman brushes her fingers over his sleeve as she passes. "Have a nice day!" I force out. Because seeing them together, seeing his eyes soften when he looks at her feels so familiar. I rush to the back and switch cashier duties with Hailey, throwing the Latte & Letters apron at her while heading toward the bathroom. I hold my head forcing myself to breath normally. But as a memory hits me so hard, I'm forced to succumbed to it.

It's 2023 and it's my birthday. I am with my boyfriend Elliot Rayes. We are out at Lume Ristorante the fancy new Italian place a couple blocks down from UConn and we had both just ordered.I had just taken a bite of my Crudo di Pesce when a small buzz from my phone attracts my attention. I smile warmly at Elliot and hold up a finger, the universal sign for one sec. hey im so sorry to be the one to tell you this but i cant keep sitting on it. i saw elliot with amelia at the party last night and they were definitely GF and BF. you deserve so much better than how hes treating you. if you need to talk,si, im here. I look up at my amazing boyfriend, the one who has never left my side and my brow knits. "Elliot," I start, noticing how his smile looks a little forced. "Violet sent me something." His eyes flash with fear. "Elliot. She sent me something and I wish I hadn't seen it. But I don't believe it. So tell me the truth. Did you cheat on me?" He cocks his head with a slow smile spreading across his face. "So you finally found out." "Elliot, why?" My eyes fill with tears. "Well Si, isn't it obvious? Your family is richer than God. Also, with the inheritance? Woooh! And we are too far away for an even fake relationship." "You're the one who wanted to do long distance!" Angry tears spill out along with the sad ones. They're probably making my carefully applied mascara run down my face, but I don't care because I have no love for this man across from me. "It didn't work out." He shrugs like it's no big deal. "But why my cousin?" I sob. Everyone in the restaurant is staring at us now. He leans in like its a big secret. "Because she was there and you were not." With that he walks out of the restaurant, causally strolling away.

I'm panting, and the force of the memory has me completely wiped out. I have been laying on the bathroom floor with my head clutched between my hands for 15 minutes. Oh shit. It's 7, closing time! I push myself to a standing position and stagger into the shop. Luckily, it's empty, so I lock up without any trouble and drive myself home. I park in the garage of my apartment and take the elevator up. I unlock the door of apartment 406 and throw myself on the bed. After a while, I feel too restless to sleep, but too tired to walk around so I go out onto the porch. It's been 10 minutes before I realize there's another person on the porch beside mine. "Hey, is this your cat?" he asks. I open one eye and see a tall man holding an orange ball of fluff. "Ginny!" I cry. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I didn't realize she got into your apartment!" I stand up and walk over to the railings where he holds the fat cat over to me. "Thank you," I say, intercepting him. "So why are you out here anyway? I'm Henry, by the way" he says. "I can't sleep. What about you?" I feel my smile across my face. "I'm Sierra."

We talk for hours, staying up until the sun tips over the mountains. I feel I can be so... myself around him, talking about everything from the cafe to my ex from 3 years ago. "He just completely broke my heart. I thought I could trust him," A tear slips out. "Oh dammit, I'm getting emotional." He stretches out and brushes the tear away, his touch light as a feather. "D'you want to change the subject?" I look at him, surprised. "No one really asks that," I say. But then I realize how good it feels to leave the choice up to me. "But... yes. I do. He's dead to me now, anyway." I give him a small half smile. He clears his throat and asks "Do you... do you want to get some food with me tonight?" He smirks and leans in to me. "I mean, you kind of owe me since I got Ginger for you." I shoot him a glare. "Her name is Ginevra Adelaida Clementine Molly Weasley," I pause, registering what he said. "Are you asking me out? I've known you for 12 hours and you ask me on a date?!" A red blush colors his cheeks. "You just seem... cool?" "Cool! HA. But... yes. I would like to get some food with you." He smiles, and I realize... there is a small flutter in my chest that I haven't had since Elliot first kissed me.

There is 1 date, 2, 3, and on the forth, we have a picnic on the beach where he takes my hand and kisses me, tasting like honey, mint, and he squeezes my hand tighter and tighter because he is so nervous. We end up staying the night at a hotel together, but not just as friends.

"Hello," a deep voice says from above me. Nice deep, but not scary Batman deep. It's Monday morning, 3 days since Henry kissed me like I was the only girl in the world. "I would like a Mexican hot chocolate please." I look up and feel my mouth drop open. "Henry!" I throw my arms around him and kiss him, knowing there are customers in line behind them but I don't care. The only thing I notice is his stiff biceps under my hands. "I'm almost off my shift babe," I say after I've let go. "Actually, I'm off now." I grin and throw my apron to Charlie, Hailey's boyfriend as I walk to the back to grab a pumpkin latte and Henry's Mexican hot chocolate. "Be responsible!" I shout to Charlie. "Lets go to the park," suggests Henry. I take a deep restorative sip of my latte as he leads me to a bench. "Sierra," he starts. "I have something to tell you." I trace my finger down his jaw and look into his bright green eyes. "Yes, Ree?" I take his hand when I realize it's cold and clammy. He doesn't look away from me, but the green in his eyes suddenly feels heavy, shadowed by a raw, suffocating grief that looks painfully familiar. He swallows, his throat working hard, and gently clasps the hand I have resting against his jaw, lowering it between us on the bench. "I... Uh... God, Sierra, how do I start?" "Love, you don't have to tell me now," I press my lips against his knuckles. "I do, Sierra. So." He stammers, and something changes. You know when you're watching a horror movie, and the blonde girl, blissfully unaware of the murderer down in the basement, cheerfully calling to her friends "I'll be right back!". That's how it feels right now. "Si, um, Henry is my middle name," he says. "Everything Elliot said at Lume Ristorante were my words. I used Henry to be someone who didn't fuck up your life." The unusually blue Seattle sky flips around, and now I'm falling and the sky is whirling around and I can barely hear the words coming out of Henry- Elliot's- mouth and suddenly my mom's voice takes over. "This is the universe honey. This is the way it was supposed to be." But is it? Is the universe really so cruel to change cruel green eyes and sharp laughs to warm smiles and soft kisses? "Si-" "Don't call me Si!" I shout hearing my voice crack. "You fucking lied to me, and now you have the nerve to call me Si?! God, you really are a dipshit. I loved you. I kissed you. And you have the shit to pretend you have any remorse about it!" I whirl around. "Wait! Sierra!" He leaps up from the bench and reaches out to me. "Don't touch me!" I warn. "I said those things because I wanted to make a clean break!" Elliot steps closer, his eyes glossy with tears. "I was stupid, Si- Sierra. I thought if I made you hate me, it would be easier for you to move on than if I dragged out a failing long-distance relationship. It was cruel, and I regret it every single day of my life. But the way I feel about you right now? The hours on the porch? The beach? That was real. Henry—Elliot—whoever I am to you, I love you." "You don't love me." I hiss through my teeth. "You love having control." I turn and run to my car and lock the doors. The engine revs and I drive as fast as I can away to my apartment.

The pillow is soaked with my tears as I roll over in bed. I still cannot turn today's events over in my mind. Some tiny part of me wants to forgive him, to kiss him and say that we can just start over. But that part of my heart is one of those shattered remains of when he broke it. A knock on the door has me pulling my covers over my face like a terrified 2 year old. "Sierra, please," Elliot’s voice comes through the wood, raspy and stripped of all the cool confidence he had on the balcony. "I know you locked the deadbolt. I’m not going to try to open it. I’m sitting down out here. You don't even have to open the door. Just... just listen. You deserve the real truth. All of it." A long silence follows, broken only by the steady drip of the rain outside. Part of me wants to scream at him to go away, to call building management, to crawl deeper under the covers. But three years of unanswered questions—three years of wondering what was so wrong with me that he could walk away with a cold smirk—hold me rooted to the mattress. I pull the duvet back just enough to breathe, sitting up in the dark bedroom. I don't go to the door. I stay in bed, my knees pulled to my chest, listening to his voice carrying through the quiet apartment. "When we were at UConn," Elliot starts, his voice echoing slightly in the hallway, "I was diagnosed with hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, but you already know that. You were paying every cent of allowance and inheritance to pay my medical bills. You were slowly unraveling and I knew it." He pauses, taking a deep breath, the air catching on his way in. "Amelia knew and had told me to stay away from you and that's when Violet saw us," There's a thud and I hear him sliding down the door. "You were drowning, Si. You were twenty years old, failing classes, using up everything you had to keep me breathing, and I was watching you disappear right in front of me. I couldn't be the thing that destroyed your life. I knew if I asked you to stop helping, you’d just fight harder. So I gave you a reason to walk away. I let you hate me, because hatred is easier to survive than watching someone die." I don't know anymore what is the truth and what is a lie, but now I am getting crushed under this weight of hearing how my horrible talking ex boyfriend told me my family was richer than God and he manipulated me to hearing him say that he did it to protect me. "I went through the surgery out in California," Elliot continues softly. "It took years of rehab. But every single day, the only thing that kept me fighting was the hope that one day I’d be healthy enough to find you again. I moved into apartment 408 two weeks ago. I saw your cat on the balcony and... I couldn't help myself, Si. I just needed to hear your voice." I walk to the doorway and wonder if I am stupid to give him a second chance. "Please Si. I love you." I open the door and there he is. Light brown hair and green eyes. The imperfect little cowlick that I smoothed over too many times to count. His lean, muscular body. He looks up at me and his face cracks with relief. "Si," Elliot Henry Rayes says, scrambling to his knees. "I am so sorry." I see the love behind his eyes and I finally believe it. "It is 100% not OK, but... I love you too," I confess. "I know I shouldn't and I know that you might break my heart again, but now I love you and I can't figure out how to work with this." He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small velvet box. "I know how to understand it. With me. I love you Sierra McMahn. I always have. So," He pauses and suddenly my heart knows what is about to happen. He gets down on one knee and looks up to me in maybe the sweetest way your old ex-not-an-ex-any-more can. "Will you marry me?"

I know that when people die, it's supposed to pour. You sit wallowing in self pity and grief while using up hundreds of tissue boxes and lay in bed for days at a time. Well, at least that's how people expected me to be in the aftermath of my mom's death. But nope, jokes on them. Because my mom...