“Hello?” You answered the phone on the second ring, confused by the wavering voice in your ear.

“Is that you?” Your boyfriend’s band mate mumbled your name softly, gentle as though he were walking on a floor of glass. You offered your affirmation, curiosity creeping like a plague. He took a hesitant breath, and you heard the shaking in his throat. He whispered your boyfriend’s name barely above that of a whisper.

“It’s his mom. She…she died last night.” His voice broke like that of a child, the defeated tremor of his heavy breath in your ears. You froze at the news. His mother was a kind woman, and you had grown especially close to her when you missed your own parents. Her eyes were always bright, crinkling up when she smiled. Her son’s personality mirrored that of his mother’s, and seeing the two of them together was like watching the television, laughter and amusement at every moment.

But those precious moments would come to a halt, and you felt the tears running quickly down your cheek. It was strange, you thought, that the water in your eyes was hot when you yourself felt so irreversibly cold.

This minute of silence passed quickly before you jumped from your seat. Without sparing so much as a breath, you slammed the door of your apartment and started toward his dorm. Images of his mother floated absently in your mind as you drove, and you forced yourself to stone to avoid blurring your vision on the road.

Your fingers curled over the cold doorknob, and it opened with ease. One of his band members turned to look at the entryway, offering you a sad nod with stillness in his dark eyes. Your boyfriend stood in the doorway to his bedroom, a boy lost in the labyrinth of his own thought. You approached him slowly, whispering his name once under a shaky breath.

He fell forward into your extended arms, sobs splitting from within his chest in another wave. You pressed your head against his shoulder, holding him with a strength you didn’t know you had. Tears darkened the light blue shirt he wore, and you could feel his own on the curve of your neck. Helplessly his hands gripped at your waist, his arms tightened around you like those of a small child.

Somehow you had wandered to his bedroom, his head resting on your lap while you sat cross legged on the mattress. He stared into the distance, his eyes unfocused and red. You tangled your hand in his hair, trying with little success to distract the both of you from the thoughts pressing at everyone’s emotions. The dorm was silent, a clock tauntingly ticking each second away.

“You’ll come right?” You looked down at him, almost surprised to hear his voice wandering weakly from his mouth. “To her funeral?” The last word was barely whispered, his eyes dampening once again. You nodded, pressing a hand to his warm cheek.

“Of course I will.”

A few weeks later you walked to the church, your black dress more uncomfortable than it used to be. In one hand you held a damp tissue, in the other you held his hand.

He looked almost reluctant as you walked together to the graveyard with the rest of the mourners, and you looked to him with a curious expression.

“I don’t…want to say goodbye.” He choked up again, and tried to hide the tears in his dull eyes. You reached up, wiping a thumb beneath each of his eyes.

“I know. I don’t either. But it’s time.” Your boyfriend sighed, nodding his head sadly. As the urn was passed before him, he pressed his lips lightly to the cool metal, whispering a private goodbye to his mother. It was placed comfortably beneath the earth, and together you each tossed a white carnation and a handful of soft soil into the deep hole. He turned around, placing a hand tentatively around your waist.

“It’s going to be okay,” you promised, touching a hand to his arm. He looked to you with a small smile on his lips, nodding his head once again.

“I know.”

“She was proud of you,” you said after a moment. Another smile crossed his lips.

“I know. I’ll be alright.” You smiled sadly back at him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. Hand in hand you walked with your backs toward the graveyard, the bright sun setting like a drop of gold behind the shadowy hills.