“You didn’t, Emma,” she says quietly. “Truly not. And I’m not angry with you. I miss Henry, but I want the best for us both. We weren’t the best for each other. That’s nothing to do with you. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel it was.”
“No, it’s fine,” I say. “I understand that.”
“We’re women,” Grace says, to my surprise. “It’s our job to stick together, not to chase after men and see each other as rivals.”
I’ve had nothing but respect for Grace ever since we met, but now it’s off the charts. Because she’s so right, and it feels like an invisible weight’s been lifted off my chest.
Mr.Cormack whistles and waves us over, as he always does just before the end of class. Grace smiles and I follow her to join the others. Olive looks skeptically at us, but at least she no longer seems to feel the need to throw accusations at my head.
Henry stands up as we finish and the others vanish into the changing rooms. He shoves his hands into his trouser pockets as I approach.
“Hi,” I murmur, bending down to retrieve my water bottle.
“I wanted to apologize,” he says, so abruptly that I pause in midmovement. “I think I acted like a dick to you yesterday.”
I straighten up again. “You were drunk.”
So he remembers. I can see it in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I didn’t mean any of what I said.”
“I know, Henry.”
“And I’m sorry for being like this,” he bursts out. “I wish itwas different, but I can’t help it. I don’t know, I’m furious and powerless and... I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
“Henry.” He falls silent as I reach for his hand. “It’s fine. These are exceptional circumstances.”
Eventually, he shrugs his shoulders. “I didn’t want you to get into trouble for my sake either.”
“It was my own decision to go up onto that roof.”
“But you wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t been there.”
I study him. “Just promise me you won’t do it again in the future.”
Henry’s jaw muscles tense but then he nods.
“Do you want to go for a run?” I ask, and not all that long ago, I’d have bet my life he’d say no. But I think he gets how it works now, that running can help when nothing else does any good.
“Yes, I... I think so.”
Henry
There’s a smell of rain as we set off after our last lesson that afternoon. The sky is gray and heavy with clouds, but that couldn’t interest me less.
Emma and I don’t speak. She lets me set our route and our pace, so I just run at random. Past the sports grounds and greenhouses, down the path that winds along the edge of the woods for a while, then I turn off among the trees. It’s tiring, my legs are heavy, I still have a headache, but I can’t stop. I have to run until I hit the state where everything gets a little more bearable.I don’t know what I’ll do if it doesn’t work. This is the final straw I’m clinging to, and I’m praying it won’t snap.
There’s so much I ought to talk to Emma about. About last night, about my jumbled thoughts and the paralyzing fear that she won’t go along with it forever. That this thing between us is too new and fresh to stand up to me. That I’m afraid of it. That I can’t lose her too. But I say nothing.
The sweat stings my eyes and mingles with the first raindrops as they land on us. Emma doesn’t ask if we should turn back. My lungs are burning. Past-Henry would want to stop now. But I can’t, any more than I can go back to the time when I never had any real problems. To the way I blubbed after I split up with Grace and thought that that was real, horrible pain. It was horrible, yes, but it was fun and games compared to what I’ve been feeling lately.
I stumble over a root and bite back a curse. It makes me angry. Everything’s making me angry, and I hate it. I hate Maeve being dead and that you can’t yell at people who’re dead because you’re pissed off with them for not being around anymore. I want to go back in time and cancel Maeve’s flight. I want to drag her singlehandedly off that plane and chain her up somewhere so she can’t go anywhere she might die. I want to scream at her, ask her why she wanted to be the savior of the world but forgot to look after herself. Why she’s doing this to me. Huh, Maeve?
My heart’s pumping.
Why. Weren’t. You. More. Careful?
Just a little.
I want it to stop. I don’t want to feel like this. The constant cycling between this endless emptiness and the hot seethingin my chest. I want my old life back. I want it so badly, but I’m gradually starting to fear that I’m never going to get it.
