“Twenty months, three days, ten hours, and sixteen minutes.”
I blink repeatedly. “That’s very specific.”
He barks out a harsh laugh. When he turns toward me, I catch a glimpse of all the hurt he works so hard to hide. It’s like a brief peek into his soul, and I’m suffocating in the depths of his despondency. I observe Beck composing himself. Tucking his emotions behind that handsome face in well-practiced moves. “Can you keep a secret?” he asks.
“As long as it’s not where all the bodies are buried,” I deadpan.
This time, his boisterous laugh is radiant, and I’m momentarily captivated at how his entire face just lights up. In this moment, he’s not troubled or shouldering the heavy weight of his demons. “I promise there are no dead bodies.” His smile gradually disappears. “I can’t say the same for skeletons in the closet.”
“We all have those.”
“I fear I have more than most.”
“You won’t scare me away. I’m made of strong stuff.”
“That’s blatantly obvious.” He angles his long body on the bench so he’s sitting sideways, and his knee brushes against mine. “I’m in awe of you, Stevie. The hand you were dealt was shitty, but you manage it with grace. Most people would cave under the stress and bury their head in the sand. You don’t. You get on with things, and you show up here every day, am I right?”
I nod.
“Trust me, you’re not the worst thing to happen to Garrick. That’s a virtual impossibility. Most girls would have given up by now, yet you are here for him every day. I think you need to cut yourself some slack and give yourself the credit you deserve.”
“I can’t see past my guilt,” I blurt. It’s not a lie.
“That is something I can relate to.”
“How? Why?” I pull the collar of my coat up as a blast of cold air swirls around my neck.
“I wasn’t a very good boyfriend to Brielle, and our relationship wasn’t conventional. Our fathers are business partners, conducting an important merger, and, in their infinite wisdom”—sarcasm drips from his tone—“they decided we should date and eventually get married to further enhance the deal and form a permanent lasting bond between our families.”
My mouth falls open, and I stare at him in shock. “Sorry, I thought we’d just wandered back in time to the dark ages.”
A grimace spreads over his olive-toned skin. “My father didn’t give me much choice.” His voice is clipped, his words only conveying part of the story.
“I… How does something like that even work?”
He winces. “It doesn’t.” He sighs heavily. “Like my father would say, we gave it the old college try. But neither of us were feeling it. You can’t force something that isn’t there. We faked it in public at engagements and when we were with our families, but we led separate lives the rest of the time, just texting every now and then.” Pain flits across his face. “I was wrong to keep my distance. I should’ve been a better friend to her. I’d known Brielle since I was a kid. Our fathers met at Cornell, and they’ve been best friends ever since. I owed it to Brielle to make more of an effort, but I didn’t. If I’d paid more attention to her, I would’ve been aware of what was going on, and I could have stopped it.”
My breath stutters in my lungs. “Stopped what?”
He draws a few deep breaths before continuing. “Brielle overdosed on opioids. On purpose. She’s in a coma, with no brain activity, because she wanted to take her own life. She wanted to die.”
I clasp a hand over my mouth in horrified shock. Our situations are comparable only in so far as both of our partners are in a coma. That is where the similarity ends. His girlfriend tried to end her life. I thought the guilt I was carrying was the worst, but how bad would it be if Garrick had purposely tried to die? Garrick’s in what is considered a “locked in” coma because his brain has him locked inside his body. There is still activity and still hope, albeit slim. There is no hope for Brielle if there is no brain activity. She is already gone.
My heart, already hollowed out and permanently aching, throbs with fresh anguish for Beck.
“She’s still on life support?” I ask what seems blatantly obvious.
“Her parents are distraught. Especially her mother. She’s refusing to let them switch off the life support machine. She has herself convinced Brielle will wake up. Her husband isn’t rocking the boat. He’s doing whatever his wife needs even if it’s only delaying the inevitable.”
“I don’t know what to say, Beck. It makes my whining seem so pitiful.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t downplay what you’re going through. It’s not a competition, Stevie. You’re entitled to your guilt just like I’m entitled to mine. No one can tell us what to feel or how to feel it.” He runs a hand along the back of his neck. “At least we understand it. No one else truly does.” His tongue darts out, wetting his lips. “I couldn’t talk to anyone else about this, but I can talk to you.”
“I feel the same. I think I was wrong when I said your sister and I were kindred spirits.” I pause for a second. “Maybe it’s you and I.”
* * *
“Hey, you,” I say in my brightest voice when I enter Garrick’s room a short while later. He’s alone, like most nights when I arrive. Hugh won’t be here for at least an hour, and I welcome the time I get to spend with my boyfriend on my own. Depositing my coat on the chair and my bag on the ground, I lean down and kiss his soft, warm cheek. “I missed you today. I love you so much, babe.” I tell him this every day because if there’s even a slim chance my words are getting through to him, I never want him to doubt how much I miss and love him.
