“Brady, don’t—”
“Lennon? Don’t lie to me, okay? I could withstand all the crap before because I understood that you truly loved us both, and for you, choosing was too difficult. But you can’t lie to me. If you know, you need to tell me.”
My voice won’t work. My mouth has gone dry.
And then, oddly, Brady laughs. Not a real laugh, but a chuckle drained of its mirth. “He’s right. You do have a tell.”
“What?” My gaze snaps down to my hand. There it is, those two traitorous fingers rubbing against one another.
“You’re nervous to tell me the truth.” Brady’s lips twist. “Which means the truth won’t be happy. For me, anyway.” His lips press together and he gazes out the window, where nothing but sunshine spills through. Why isn’t it storming outside? Given the way I feel inside, rain should be beating the windows and lightning crackling through the sky.
After a moment he looks back to me, a rueful smile on his face. I hate the regret I see in that sad grin, the sorrow and the pain.
Tears sting my eyes, and I try so, so hard to keep them at bay. If I cry, Brady will console me, and that’s not what should be happening now. He shouldn’t console the person who caused him this heartache.
It’s physically impossible to stop the tears, so I do my best to hide them by turning my face and rubbing my eyes on my shirt sleeve.
“I’m sorry, Brady,” I whisper. Now the tears are coming so quickly that my shirt sleeve can no longer do the job. I spot a box of tissues beside the sink and hurry to them. With my back to Brady, I wipe my eyes and nose. His eyes are on me when I turn around, and when I get closer, I see that they are red and sparkling with unshed tears.
My body responds with a fresh batch of tears, and this time I don’t attempt to hide them.
“I’m so sorry,” I sob. Brady holds out his arms and I step into them, leaning over the bed and laying my head on his chest. He strokes my back, and I listen to his heartbeat. This same heart was beating the day he made me his friend when I had none. It was beating every time he went out of his way to care for me over the years, and every second Brady hoped I’d love him enough to choose him above all others.
Panic sets in. Have I made the wrong choice?
No.
In my mind I see Finn, and I know that my choice is the right one for me. Finn is my forever.
But right now, in this moment, I’m here with my best friend, soothing the pain I’ve caused him.
I stay in his arms until a nurse comes in and announces it’s time for Brady’s next round of painkillers.
I step back and we share a look, one where I imagine Brady is being brave and making a joke about how he has two reasons to need painkillers.
Brady falls asleep quickly after his fresh round of meds, and I step from the room. Even though I’m gone, I feel the part of me that’s broken off. It’s back there, and it belongs to Brady. Maybe that’s how life goes. Perhaps we aren’t a collection of the hearts we break, the love we fall into, or the experiences we have. We start out whole, and as we go through life, we carve out pieces of ourselves and leave them behind. Maybe we pick up pieces of others, and stitch them onto us, until we are a fabric made of everyone else.
My whole life I’ve been picking up the pieces of Finn and stitching them onto me. He, too, is a patchwork of my pieces. And now, as I walk away from Brady’s room, I feel a part of my heart fracturing and breaking off, falling alongside the fragments of Brady’s broken heart.
I close my eyes and pick up a piece, attaching it to my own. Brady is a part of me, and he always will be.
27
Now
Brady
Well, fuck. She didn’t choose me.
I thought I had a shot.
The thing is, I can’t even be mad at her. Or Finn. I see it. I see them together, and they look right.
“Take it easy, hon. You’re making me nervous.” My mother flutters around me, her hands outstretched like at any second they might prove useful.
This is only day two off crutches. After having them for the past six weeks, I was ready to throw them out the window on the drive home from my follow-up appointment yesterday.
“Mom, I’m good.” I wave her off. My mom has been amazing through all of this, but when the time comes for her to leave with my dad, I won’t be shedding any tears. They’re taking ten days in Mexico, although she tried to cancel. My dad put his foot down, and I agreed.
