“To Buddy,” Summer echoed, draining her glass. She didn’t even ordinarily drink much, but nothing was as bitter as the taste of her sorrow, of the family’s sorrow that she could already feel leaching into her. The bonds of family were unlike other empathic bonds, but they still carried emotion, and she carried it all. She curled over, around the empty space where her sense of her grandfather had lived, and rocked silently. “I’ll have to go down there tomorrow,” she murmured into her knees.
Victor realized that the amount of sadness and pain she was experiencing was exponentially more than anyone would ever feel. He put his glass down and pulled her to him so that she was sitting on his lap, kissing her head and neck tenderly. “Why do you have to go back there love?”
Summer sighed. “I haven’t been home in months, Victor darling. I’ve got to go down for the funeral, though. The funeral, the wake, the viewing, god. The only way I’m going to survive it is drugs.” This sigh was bitter, and she blinked another tear away. “Tell me you love me, Victor,” she whispered. “Tell me how much you love me.”
Victor was surprised for a moment but leaned in by her ear, “I love you, Summer. I love you very much and I’ll never stop.” He punctuated each word with a tender kiss to her jaw. “I’d offer to go with you for support but I don’t want to intrude on something like that.”
Even now, under the weight of it all, his voice still shot a shiver down her spine. “Having you there would be more appreciated than I can express. Please come with me. Come with and keep me sane. And hold me. Just,” her voice cracked again, “hold me.” She felt like she was falling, wished she was falling, flying, anywhere but here. “Make me not think.”