I swallowed hard, my chest aching. I had no idea that Eli had been carrying such a heavy burden for so long. How had I never seen it?
"Was that why he couldn’t cope?" I asked quietly.
Eli’s mom nodded. "Yes. The depression started to take hold because he never allowed himself to truly grieve, Iris. He buried his feelings under the guise of being the strong, dependable one. But it wasn’t just his father’s death. There were other things, too. The pressure of always being the one who fixed things, who made everyone else feel okay. It was too much."
I wiped away a tear, feeling a deep sorrow for Eli that I had never fully understood. "He never told me any of this."
"I don’t think he knew how, sweetheart." Her voice was gentle, full of empathy. "He didn’t want to burden you, or anyone else. He loved you so much that he didn’t want to bring you into his pain. But I think, deep down, he hoped that you would somehow understand, that you would see through the façade."
I sat there, lost in thought, my heart breaking for him all over again. I could see it now—the cracks in his smile, the way he’d retreat into his art when he was overwhelmed, the way he’d check on me, making sure I was okay while hiding his own struggles.
I couldn’t help but feel guilty. Why hadn’t I seen it sooner? Why hadn’t I asked the right questions?
"He loved you, Iris," Eli’s mom said, breaking me from my thoughts. "And I think that’s why he held on for so long. You were his reason to keep going, even when it felt impossible."
I closed my eyes, letting the weight of her words wash over me. "I should’ve been there for him… I should’ve known."
"You were, sweetheart," she whispered. "But sometimes, love isn’t enough to heal everything. And Eli… he needed more than just love. He needed someone to help him find peace with his past."
I nodded slowly; my chest heavy with grief. "I wish I could’ve been that person for him."
Eli’s mom squeezed my hand once more. "You were, Iris. You made him feel loved when he thought he didn’t deserve it. And that… that was everything."
I closed my eyes, trying to find some semblance of peace in the midst of my sorrow. But all I could feel was the emptiness left by Eli’s absence. And the painful realization that I would never get the chance to save him, no matter how much I loved him.
Her voice trembled as she spoke, and I could see the tears welling up in her eyes. "You know what, when I saw him in his room… it was like a part of him was already gone, Iris."
I could feel my breath catch in my throat. I wanted to reach out and comfort her, but it seemed like her pain was too deep, too raw. She had lost her son, the person she had nurtured, watched grow, and loved unconditionally.
"When I found him that night," she continued, her voice breaking, "he was sitting on his bed, staring at the wall. It was the first time in a long time I saw him so still, so empty. I thought he was just tired, so I didn’t think much of it. I left him there, thinking he needed space, maybe some rest." Her eyes fell to the ground as she spoke. "But when I went back to check on him, I realized... it was too late."
I didn’t know what to say. There were no words that could heal the wound of losing someone so close, someone so loved. I could feel the weight of her grief, and all I could do was listen, trying to hold on to my own emotions so I could understand her pain.
"I had always believed that he would come to me if he was struggling," she whispered, more to herself than to me. "I kept telling myself that I was his mother, that he would turn to me if he needed help. But he kept everything inside, and I never saw it until it was too late."
I wanted to tell her it wasn’t her fault. I wanted to remind her that Eli had chosen to carry his pain alone, that he had hidden it from everyone who loved him. But the words felt inadequate in the face of such a heavy truth.
"His last words to me, Iris," she said, her voice barely audible, "were, 'I’m sorry, Mom. I love you. Please don’t be sad for me.' Those were the last words I heard him say. And it breaks my heart, knowing that he was still carrying all of that pain, even until the very end."
Tears streamed down my face as I listened. I knew the pain she felt, the helplessness that came from loving someone with all your heart, but not being able to fix what was broken inside of them.
"I tried, Iris," she said softly, looking at me with a mixture of sorrow and understanding. "I tried everything I could to help him, but sometimes… sometimes people are just too broken to be fixed. And I don't know how to live with that."
I reached out and held her hand, feeling the weight of her words. "You did everything you could, and Eli knew that. He knew you loved him, that you tried. I don’t think he ever doubted that."
She nodded slowly, the tears in her eyes never ceasing. "I hope so. I really do."
We sat there in silence for a long time, sharing a moment of grief and understanding. I could feel the connection between us, two people who loved Eli in different ways, now united by the pain of his loss.
"I keep thinking about all the times I should’ve noticed," she said quietly. "All the moments where I could have said something, done something. But I just didn’t see it. I didn't see how much he was suffering until it was too late."
I squeezed her hand. "None of us saw it, Mrs. Carter. He hid it from everyone. Even from me."
She looked at me with a faint smile, though the sadness still lingered in her eyes. "You loved him, Iris. And that's all he ever wanted. To be loved, and to love in return. I hope you know that."
"I do," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "I loved him more than I could ever say."
"And he loved you, Iris. You were everything to him."
I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of her words sink in. In his final moments, Eli had carried the love he had for me, just as I had carried the love I had for him. It wasn’t enough to save him, but it was everything.
And as much as it hurt, I would carry that love with me for the rest of my life.