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The last week was a complete blur. Picking up the kids from the trailer park felt like an out of body experience. You recall how your siblings ran toward you, practically shrieking about how much they missed you as their arms wrapped around your body in a tight embrace. You wore a smile that felt more like a mask, but it was easier because Matt was right at your side. 

“You guys want to go get some ice cream?” he asked them.

“Yeah!” they cheered in unison. 

The two of you felt it was a good way to explain everything that was going on. If anything, it would at least soften the blow. You thank Scout for watching the kids and then you all pile into the car.

A few minutes go by before you pull into the lot of the only ice cream parlor in town. It’s more like an ice cream shack, but it does the trick every time.  Once inside, your siblings each get a scoop of rocky road in a cone. Matt doesn’t get anything, but he asks if you want something. You shake your head no and try to pay for the frozen treats but Matt doesn’t let you. 

“Go sit with ‘em, I’ll give you all some space,” he urges you as he pulls out some cash. You don’t argue, because the mental load you carry is already too heavy.  

“C’mon guys, let’s go find a bench outside,” you say as you usher the kids out the door.

Some old picnic tables line the side of the ice cream shack so you settle for the cleanest one. Your sister needs help sitting properly so you hold her ice cream as she adjusts herself. 

“Is the ice cream tasty?” you ask, trying to fill the silence. 

“Mhm!” your sister responds. “Yup,” your brother echoes. 

“Well, I’m glad you like it!” you say, leaning towards them as your forearms rest on the picnic table. 

You can feel your sister's legs swinging under the table, absolutely pleased with the sweet treat she’s got. Your brother already has some chocolate smeared on either side of his mouth. A small pang hits you right in the chest. 

Maybe bringing them here to deliver the news wasn’t such a good idea. 

You look through the glass window, and Matt’s still standing by the ice cream counter. He turns his head, almost as if he feels your eyes on him. He gives you a soft smile and a wink. It’s an unspoken ‘you got this.’ You take a deep breath before you begin to speak.

“Do you guys remember when I sat you down and told you we were moving from the trailer park to the motel?” you ask.

“Yeah,” your brother says. Your sister just nods. 

“Well, I have something else I need to tell you two. There’s good stuff and bad stuff. Which one do you want to hear first?” you ask.

“Ummm good stuff,” your sister says as her ice cream begins to melt; in desperate need of a napkin. You grab one off the table and help her wipe her hands. 

“No! Bad stuff first, then we can end with the good stuff,” your brother suggests.

“Oh yeah. Okay, bad stuff,” your sister agrees. 

“Mkay, well…mommy came by the other day.  She got really sick and she had to go to the hospital. That’s why I had you stay with Scout. She’s all better now, but she won’t be coming around to visit for a while,” you say.

“She can’t come see us?” your sister asks.

“It’s just better if she doesn’t. Just like dad,” you make sure to look them directly in the eye, so they know you’re serious. 

Your siblings were young, but not stupid. There were efforts to shield them from things but they knew more than you liked them to. They sit at the picnic table, pensive. 

“There’s more,” you add. “Some people are going to come by to make sure you have a safe place to live. And we’re gonna make sure they know you do.”

“What happens if they don’t think we’re safe?” your sister asks.

“That’s not gonna happen,” a fourth voice says from behind you. Matt approaches the table and sits next to you, sliding a scoop of cookie dough ice cream in front of you. “We’ll make sure it doesn’t,” he says. You give him a soft smile. “Did you tell them the good news yet?” He adds.

“Not yet,” you reply. “Have you been having fun with Scout these past few days?” you ask your siblings. 

They both agree enthusiastically.

“Well, we are officially moving back to the trailer park!” you announce. 

Your siblings gasp and they smile from ear to ear.

“Really?!” one asks. “Yay!” the other celebrates. 

“When do we move back?” your brother asks.

“In a week or so. We just have to get a few things situated,” you reply, finally digging into the ice cream you didn’t order, but desperately appreciated. 

“And is Matt moving in with us?” your sister asks innocently. You nearly choke on ice cream. 

“He already has his own house. Why would he want to live with us?” your bother interjects, in a way only a brother could. 

“Okay, let’s not argue. Let’s finish up our ice cream and head back to the motel. We need to start packing!” you say. 

---

It took two days for CPS to call you. You explained everything as best as you could. 

You were in the process of getting custody. Dad had already signed over his rights to you. You were moving out of the motel. You already had a lease signed. There would be no drugs in the house. You had a stable job, savings, and the kids never missed school. 

You spend almost thirty minutes addressing any concern they had. Nonetheless they stated that they would be doing a drop in visit within the next few days, just to be sure everything was okay. Great.

The next day, Matt meets you at the trailer park to pick up the keys and take a tour with you. The kids bolt out of the car to go play with their friends. Matt’s already leaning against his truck, twirling the keys around his finger. A sly smile spreads across his lips. 

“They give you the keys to the kingdom?” you joke as you approach. Matt shakes his head.

“They’re your keys, not mine,” he replies as he plops them into your palm. 

The two of you make your way towards the trailer. You turn the key and walk in. The inside of it looks so spacious. The living room is carpeted and the kitchen has clean linoleum floors. On one end, you see a room that would be perfect for the kids. Enough space for two beds and closet space for the both of them. The main bedroom is on the opposite side of the trailer and it's bigger than any room you’ve ever had.

You stand in the center of the room, in complete disbelief. Matt stands behind you, hands deep in his pockets.

“Think this’ll do?” he asks, voice almost timid. You turn to him, giving him a soft smile.

“Of course! It’s perfect,” you say. 

Standing in the middle of the room, you think about everything that has brought you to this point. Your parents, your siblings, your upbringing, and the gas station worker who turned out to be a larger part of your life than you had ever expected. 

“I can’t believe this,” you say, almost under your breath. 

“What?” he asks.

“Just…all of this,” you begin. “Even though there's stuff looming over me I somehow still feel okay.” You take a step closer to Matt.

“I feel like things are finally settling for the first time in a long time and,” you break. “And it’s all thanks to you,” you confess. You grab Matt’s hand in yours, something you’ve never done before. Even if the two of you had been intimate, this felt like a whole new level. 

Matt pulls you into his chest, hugging you tight. One arm swings over your shoulders in a tight embrace while his head rests in yours. He plants a kiss on top of your head before speaking. 

“You deserve this and so much more, Stray. I’d do it again a thousand times,” he murmurs.

In his arms, you find the courage to bring up what you’ve been wanting to ask since he told you he got the trailer. 

“Matt, I wanna ask you something, but you have to be honest with me.”

“‘Course.” 

“I know we’re still navigating a lot of what’s going on and I don’t really know what we exactly are,” you start. “But, what I do know is that we work,” you take a deep breath and pull away from him so you can see his face. “And with that being said, I was wondering…if you wanted to move in with us.” 

Matt’s face is unreadable for a moment, until his mouth spreads into a subtle smile. “Is this something you really want? I don’t want you to feel like you have to ask me just because I put down the deposit.” he asks.

“Only if it’s something you want. I don’t want to pressure you; I know it's a big change,” you say.

“Stray, I’d love that more than anything in the world,” he confesses.

A soft chuckle leaves your mouth. “Really?”

“Mhm.”

“Really?!” 

“Yes, stray girl,” he giggles. 

You jump into his arms and he spins you around. As he puts you back down, the two of you meet in a gentle kiss. It seals the deal perfectly, just as your two siblings come rushing in through the front door. 

“Is this our new home?” your sister asks.

“It’s so big!” your brother adds.

“Mhm, and guess what, Matt’s decided to move in with us too!” you say crouching down to meet them at eye level.

Shrieks and squeals erupt in the room as they both run towards Matt. They almost topple him over in excitement and he laughs so much his eyes squeeze together tightly. 

---

THE ENDING OF THIS STORY IS A CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE. CONTINUE READING FOR THE ANGSTY ENDING. CLICK HERE FOR THE FLUFFY ENDING. 

Move-in day has you on pins and needles. Matt had been working on packing up his own stuff at home while you wrapped up things at the motel. Luckily for him, his dad was out of town and his mom was busy fawning over Chris to notice his room being packed up. Matt felt like the move would be smoother if he didn’t tell his parents. He just wanted to avoid any drama.

He was going to meet you at the trailer park to unload his stuff before taking you to pick up some furniture. Jeff, your boss at the motel had already sent over some old dressers and you lucked out at the thrift store, finding pretty much everything you needed for the kids’ room. The rest would have to be bought and picked up today using Matt’s truck. 

In the meantime you start to unpack boxes with your siblings. Scout and her family all help out too. It becomes a whole community affair. Folks donate things they don’t need, and it helps complete an entire set of dishware for your kitchen. 

As the time nears towards noon, Matt still hasn’t shown up. You shoot him a “just checking in” text and continue to unpack. Lunch time comes and goes and there’s still no sign of Matt. You check your phone, hoping for a text that hasn’t come. When you open up your text thread, the message you sent has turned green. 

Hm. 

“Hey Scout, I’m gonna swing by Matt’s place. He’s not responding to my texts. Have you heard from Chris today?” you ask. 

“Just that he was going to run some early errands with his mom before coming to help us. His dad came back early from his latest road trip and they wanted to make his favorite dinner tonight,” Scout responds innocently. 

Something settles in the pit of your stomach. A little nervousness creeps into your mind. 

“Oh, I didn’t know he was back early. I’ll just stop by to see if he needs any help packing up the last of his stuff. Will you watch the kids?” you ask. She nods in agreement.

On the way to Matt’s house, you try to call him, but it goes straight to voicemail. 

C’mon Matt, this better be some kind of sick joke. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.

Nothing. Even after three attempts. 

As you pull up to the house, there’s only one car in the driveway; Matt’s. If his dad were back home, his semi would be parked along the street. You park next to the curb and go to knock on the door. No answer. You ring the doorbell and there’s no answer. 

Worry starts to fill your mind. You knew he wouldn’t just ignore you on purpose.

Despite your better judgement, you decide to wander to their backyard. It gave a perfect access point to Matt’s window; the one he always left unlocked and used to sneak out at night. 

You can see into his room without opening the window but Matt isn’t there. Inside, boxes are piled in stacks of three. Nearly everything is ready to go. His bed is made and the desk he has next to it is completely bare. The only thing that looks out of place is an unsealed box. Within the box, you see photos of Matt and his brothers, ready to be packed up. 

You’re even more confused now than when you arrived but the sound of a car door closing shakes you from your thoughts. Hunched over, you creep towards the front of the house. A woman’s voice can be heard faintly, followed by another, deeper voice. 

“You go on ahead Mom, I’ll get the rest of the groceries,” Chris calls to his mom. 

Once she’s inside the house, you make your way towards him.

“Hey!” you call to Matt’s brother.

“Hey, I recognized your car up front and I'm gonna ignore the fact that you just came from my back yard. What’s up?” he asks. 

“Matt’s not answering my calls and he was supposed to move in today,” you say in a hushed tone. 

“Hm? And he’s not here?”

“Nope. I’m starting to worry something’s wrong. Especially since your dad’s semi isn’t here,” you add.

Chris furrows his brow in thought. “Alright, look. Let me take in the rest of the groceries inside and I’ll come back out in a sec. I’ll call my dad and see if Matt’s with him,” he says.

After about ten minutes Chris comes back outside. You two get into your car so you don’t look as suspicious. 

Chris pulls out his phone and instead of calling, he decides to FaceTime his dad. “Don’t show me, I don’t want your dad to recognize me,” you request. Chris nods his head.

Instead of their dad, Matt answers the call. He can’t see you, but you can see him. His hair is disheveled and his face is stoic. You think you see a bruise forming under his right eye. There’s a cut on his lower lip that’s prominent in the midday sun. 

Your heart sinks. 

“Hey there son,” you hear his dad call. 

“Hey dad,” Chris replies flatly.  

“Sorry I had to leave early. I was gonna call you and your mom later on tonight,” he begins. “Listen; could you believe this little shit sitting next to me was planning on moving out of the family home?” he practically laughs. “He thought I wouldn’t notice,” his dad chastises. “If its one thing I hate, is a fucking liar.” The air falls silent. 

“I’m sorry dad.” Chris says.

This whole exchange makes your blood boil. 

“Don’t be sorry son. It’s this dumbass who should be sorry.” You hear a loud smack as his dad hits Matt up the side of his head. “I think a few months out on the road with his old man will set the kid straight,” he says matter of factly. “He can say goodbye to that gas station gig and that skank from the trailer park by the time he comes back. Hell, by the time we come back she’ll have moved on to another sucker,” he laughs. “I might even drop him off in another state somewhere. Make him find his own way back.”

You rest your head against the headrest and close your eyes tightly. It's the only thing that stops the tears from forming in your eyes. You know his dad means everything he says.

Chris sighs. “Well dad, I hope you come back soon. We’ll miss you too much if you’re gone for too long. I hope to see you before I go back to school for the fall,” Chris says. 

“No promises son. If I don’t get to see you, blame this kid. I love you though. Talk soon,” he finishes. 

“Love you dad. Bye Matt,” Chris says. 

Before hanging up, Chris tilts the phone so Matt can see me sitting next to him. His eyes go wide before you hear his dad yell at him to hang up the phone. The call ends before you or him can say anything. 

You sit frozen in your car and you can see the last visual of Matt every time you close your eyes. Chris breaks the silence first. 

“Stray, I’m sorry. I tried to see if I could get him to come back sooner. I just didn’t want to make the situation worse,” he says.

“Thanks for calling him. You did what you could,” you say. After a moment you ask, ‘What do you think happened to Matt’s phone?”

“Dad’s destroyed stuff before. Gaming consoles, record players, anything really. My guess is he threw it out the window while he was driving down the freeway,” he says, almost apologetically. 

“That would explain why it went straight to voicemail,” you reply. 

“Stray, he’ll come back. Dad has to come home at some point,” Chris tries to reassure you.

“Yeah your dad will. But what if he really does leave Matt somewhere with no way to get back?” you ask.

“Knowing how Matt feels about you, I know he’d find a way back to you. Whatever it takes.”

“Even so, every waking moment he's with your dad I know he’s suffering. I can't bear it.” You cover your face with your hands, struck with emotion. 

“We’ll get him back, Stray. We’ll find a way.”

That night, you sleep on the floor of the living room after you tuck your kids into their new beds. You don’t have a mattress of your own yet, so you cling to Matt’s sweater as you lay on the carpeted floor. Surrounded by two pillows and a blanket, you try to get some sleep but the worry in your mind is overwhelming. After what feels like hours your eyes eventually grow heavy. 

That is, until you hear your phone vibrate and an unknown number pops up on your screen.

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your better half’s side of the bed was cold, long since abandoned for chris to head to film first thing in the morning, then to the university classes he'd decided to take in the afternoon. 

despite it only being nine in the morning, you began preparing the house for chris' return that evening. you started on the rainbow sprinkles cake that had been requested then began to prepare dinner and clean everything. you were a bit of a neat freak, and it was only amplified by the fact that you wanted your baby’s birthday to be perfect. 

later that evening, you were frosting chris' cake with red frosting when your phone pinged with a text. it was from your boyfriend, reading i’m on the way home with a orange heart emoji. chris always used the orange heart because it was “more him”. 

you had to pick up the pace. you hastily finished frosting the cake, making sure it was as perfect as possible. heading to the bedroom, you began gathering candles and making up the bed just right for the special evening. busy, you hadn’t realized how much time had passed until you heard a knock at the front door. picking up your phone, you realized it had been over an hour and a half since chris had sent that text. maybe he got stuck in traffic. but why was he knocking on the door? you always made sure he had his house keys with him. 

you made your way to the front door with a huge smile on your face, ready to shower your love with all the birthday affection he deserved. however, the smile dropped when at the front door, it was not chris, but rather a police officer.

“y/n y/l/n?”

“that would be me?” you asked softly, beginning to panic about why there was a police officer at the front door instead of chris. 

“your boyfriend, christopher sturniolo, has been in a fatal accident and you were listed as his emergency contact.”

you felt your knees go weak and the world begin to go cloudy and spin as your eyes filled with tears. “...fatal?”

“he’s gone, ma'am. i'm sorry. however, he was transported to the hospital. you can go say your final goodbyes, if you’d like.”

as soon as the word “gone” left the officer’s mouth, you felt your world shatter. a heavy sob left your chest and you simply crumpled to the floor, not caring that the man was watching you. 

“i can bring you to the hospital, if you need it, ma'am.”

you simply nodded your head. you couldn’t make words come out of your mouth. you simply got up and slowly made your way to the bedroom, clinging to the wall for support. there were a few things that chris deserved to have with him. 

you pulled a small jeweler’s box out of your nightstand and opened it up, gazing at the ring inside through misty eyes. it was supposed to be tonight. tonight was the night you were going to pour your heart out to your blue eyed beauty and ask him to marry you. you didn't care that it was unconventional. you took the ring out of the box and slipped it into your pocket before hurling the box at the wall with a guttural sob. you didn’t care that the box made a dent in the wall of your rented apartment, you’d deal with that later. 

you grabbed chris' favorite stuffed bear that was perched on the brown haired boy’s pillow, eagerly waiting for its owner’s return. a return that wouldn’t happen. 

you made your way back to the officer, who gently ushered you into the squad car and began to make his way to the hospital. when you arrived at the hospital, you were sure that all of the staff on the ICU floor were staring at you. if you could’ve seen yourself, you would have stared too. your hair was drenched with sweat and your face was bright red, a mess of snot and tears. 

“are you y/n y/l/n?” an older nurse asked sweetly. she had been working in the hospital long enough to usually know which visitors belonged with which patients. and judging by your overall demeanor and look, she could tell that you were here for the patient they had just recently lost. 

you just nodded, still too choked up and not quite believing that this was happening to talk. 

“chris is in a private room, sweetie. i’ll take you to him, but i need you to understand, he was in a very fatal accident. he won’t look like the chris you normally know, okay hun?” the sweet nurse used her very best caretaker voice, knowing that you were this close to going off the deep end. 

“i don’t care!” you snapped. you hated being so rude to the poor woman, but all you cared about right now was seeing chris. your chris.

“come with me, love.” the nurse held your hand gently and walked you to room 305. “he’s just through this door. i'll give you two some alone time. let me know if you need anything, sweetheart.” she smiled sympathetically and let you have your time.

you placed your hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath. you knew deep down you wanted to see chris, but you weren't ready to say goodbye. not this soon. you weren't ready to let go of all you two had shared over the years. chris was your best friend, your boyfriend, your soulmate, your twin flame. any word you could think of to describe undying love could’ve been used. 

one last breath and you twisted the doorknob, stepping into the dimmed hospital room.

*triggering content starts here*

the second you stepped into chris' private hospital room, you felt your heart drop. these kinds of rooms were saved especially for the dying or already dead. the various machines that had been used to try and revive your sweet chris, were cleaned and turned off, returned to their various spots around the room. 

there were no flowers on the bedside table. no cards, no water cups, no nothing. the only indication that anyone had even been in the room were the pile of chris' belongings that had been salvaged from his totaled car, the ominous equipment that would later be used to take the boy away, and the bed that currently held him.

you tried to pretend chris was just sleeping and that at any moment he would wake up. you tried so hard. the hospital staff had closed his blue eyes, but it was hard to believe chris was just napping when his face looked nothing like the face that had left your shared apartment twelve hours earlier. 

chris' face was covered in cuts, dried blood, and stitches. he had a deep gash across his forehead and his nose was bent at a peculiar angle. somewhere along the way, his beloved earrings had been lost, leaving only two sad holes. you hesitated to pull back the sheets. you wanted to say goodbye to chris fully, but you were scared of what was underneath the blankets.  

the urge to give your boyfriend the last bit of love he deserved was stronger than the fear, however. you gently pulled back the blanket and gasped. the nurse had warned you, but you hadn’t thought it would be this bad. this wasn’t the chris you knew. the poor boy's legs had been mangled and were also covered in dried blood and deep gashes. the hospital staff had tried their best to clean him up, but the damage done had been quite severe. 

that was enough for the you. you collapsed, laying your head on chris' chest and sobbing. you would never again lay there and hear the steady beat of your boyfriend’s heart and the rise and fall of his breath. 

“chris, baby.” you whispered, cupping his cheek. 

the brown haired boy’s body had already gone cold. he hadn’t even been given the chance to fight. a young life stolen for no clear reason. chris had never done anything wrong. he was the sweetest, most loving soul you had ever met. 

as the thoughts consumed you, you cried harder. not just for yourself, but for the life that chris would never get to live. your boyfriend had just turned twenty and already had over two million subscribers on youtube. he had his whole life ahead of him and it had been snatched in a matter of seconds. chris would never get to be an influencer, which had been his biggest dream since he was eleven. he’d never graduate university or get married or have kids. 

“i’m sorry, sweetie. i’m so, so sorry.” you ran your hand along chris' cheek, your voice thick with sobs. 

you moved your hand down to hold chris' own. never again would you get to bandage those hands after chris had spent all day at the studio, his fingers peeling and bloody from insisting on personally packaging merch orders.

you pulled the wedding band out of your pocket and slipped it on chris' ring finger. you ran your thumb across the dark silver metal that went so well with his tanned skin. “this is for you, baby. i love you more than anyone has loved anyone. ever. you’re my light and my reason and the reason i’m still here.”

you knew deep down that time was ticking. soon, the staff would take chris away to vacate the room. this was the last time. this was the last time you'd ever see chris. fighting back the tears, you tucked the stuffed bear under chris' arm and kissed his forehead. “i’m going to be strong for you. i love you, baby. in this life and in the next one. i'll see you soon, okay?"

and you were strong. you stayed until the nurses took chris away and the doctors told you that you had to leave. you walked the long way home, taking the path through downtown that you'd always walk with chris on sunday afternoons. it would never fail, at the end of the route, chris would see his favorite ice cream shop and stop, tugging on your hand and begging for a strawberry cone with rainbow sprinkles. 

in the following weeks, your mom came to stay with you so you weren’t alone in the apartment that didn’t feel quite right without chris there. the day you went through chris' belongings was the hardest. you kept most of the clothes, which smelled of the blue eyed boy and quite easily went through everything else, giving most of it to jimmy and mary lou. but if anything hurt the most to go through, it was the music equipment. 

you had met chris in music class. he had asked you out with a song. sure, chris had never wanted to be a touring musician, and he considered it little more than a hobby, but the boy had a natural musical talent. and so, you ordered a display case. right there in the living room sat chris' favorite guitar. if you listened hard enough, you were pretty sure you could still hear chris playing off somewhere in the distance.

-

you read chris' last message every day. you read it front to back and back to front. you read it when you woke up and before you went to bed. you read it until you didn’t need to look to know what it said. to know where the uncapitalized i was and where the orange heart emoji was. 

two years to the day after the accident, on what would have been chris' twenty second birthday, you read the text for the last time. you knew you didn’t need to look at it anymore because no matter what, you were okay. no matter what, chris was always with you.

for the rest of your very long life, every time you heard thunder and saw lightning, you liked to pretend it was chris. chris up there in the sky somewhere, jamming out on his guitar and living the life he never got to have.

CHLO YAPS: i'm sorry for what i just did to you guys