My heart pounded, and I leaned against a pole. At that moment I realized how alone I was. How lonely. Cort came back to mind, but I chased him out of my thoughts. He didn’t belong there. I didn’t deserve him. My mind was a terrible, evil place. I continued to walk downtown until I spied the expanse of the Brooklyn Bridge stretching out before me.
The delicious, hot thread of poison boiling through my system had already started to fade, and I craved more. I needed something to take away the pain. There was no reason I should ever be allowed near a man as nice as Cort, yet I found myself unable to stay away from him. Perhaps I hoped his calm would soothe me. Or that the years of denial could be washed away by his touch. And for a while it had been. But seeing my parents dancing at Toby’s wedding made me realize I meant little to anyone who knew me.
The edge of the bridge beckoned. Perhaps I could fly away to the sun, and like a phoenix, rise from the flames as a new person, deserving of him. But for now, I was the same man who’d fucked him and left, and the depths of the river enticed.
“Are you okay?”
Blinking, I turned around and gazed into the kind, dark eyes of a plainly dressed middle-aged woman. To my embarrassment, tears ran down my face. “No. I don’t think so.” My legs gave way, and I sat down on the pavement.
“Do you have someone I could call for you?” She stayed by my side while other people stared but walked on by. I didn’t blame them. A year ago I would’ve done the same. “A wife or parents?”
“No,” I whispered. “No one. I have no one. No one cares.”
Her expression softened, and she crouched down next to me. “I bet you do, and you don’t even know it.”
“You don’t know me.” My voice caught. “I was a terrible person. I still am. They sent me away. They were right.”
“You didn’t kill nobody, did you?” She searched my face, and at the shake of my head, she patted my hand. “Then it ain’t so terrible that it can’t be fixed. Now let me call someone for you.”
“I don’t have a phone.”
“Do you have a phone number? I’ll make the call for you.”
Recalling that James had given me his cell number, my numb, trembling fingers fumbled with my wallet and withdrew his card. “That’s my boss. Or he was until I screwed that up too.” I stared at the river, wondering how deep it was. What the inky-dark water would feel like sliding over my shoulders, my face…rendering me breathless. It would be cold, numbing. Shocking at first but then peaceful. All the hurt would stop. It wasn’t too late to try and find out. I gulped the now warm beer I’d set down.
She took the card from me and pulled out her phone while I stood and swayed. In the background I heard her soft voice speaking into her phone.
“Someone will come.”
“It doesn’t matter. Nothing will change. Nothing will make me a better person.”
“You’re wrong. Something can. Or rather, someone.”
“Who?” Despite the weariness consuming me, I wanted to hear her out.
“You. Only you can make that change in yourself. You have to ask yourself how badly you want it.” She held out her hand, and I looked at her before giving her the can of beer.
We stood overlooking the river and the darkening sky. I could see the Staten Island Ferry exiting the terminal and the faint light of the Statue of Liberty. I should’ve taken the ferry and just jumped from there. Much quicker.
“I don’t know if I can. I’ve been this way for too long.”
“You can if you want to.”
People walked by, stopping to take selfies and pictures on the bridge. It was the perfect backdrop to a New York experience. Seeing me take a header off the side into the water wasn’t part of the plan, but how could I go back and face everyone? To run away and never come back would be easy, but I’d still be the same miserable Harlan I was right now, craving a drink and treating the people I knew like shit. I shivered. God, I wanted a drink.
“Harlan.” I heard a voice call my name and began to shake. To have him see me like this was worse than anything.
“Why’d you come, Cort?”
“How could I not?”
For a second my heart jumped. Seeing Cort standing there so honest…damn. Maybe someone did care if I existed or not. But then the gray mist slid over me as usual. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. He didn’t know who I was. He’d fucked a stranger, not only to him, but to myself as well. I was a stranger in my own body. A ghost Harlan, who might wish to escape the past but was doomed to live and repeat it, encased in a bubble of shame, self-denial, and fear.
“Go home. I don’t want to see you.”
“I don’t think you know what you want right now.”
Except I did. More cocaine. My fingers twitched at the thought. Almost a year without it, and yet one hit and I craved it like my next breath.
