“Did you hear about the accident on the night of the party or the next day?” I lock my gaze on the black road in front of us, watching dust particles of snowfall gently against the windshield.
“The next day, there was talk about a teenager who drove off the side of the road the night before.”
“Did you hear any details about the injuries or details?”
Brody shakes his head, his brows furrowing. “Not that I can recall. Just that the accident was so bad, he didn’t make it. I only heard bits and pieces from overhearing my parents talk about some kid in your town.”
“Yeah.”
“I had no idea you were going through so much afterward.”
“Brody, Adam is still alive.”
I’m not sure if my statement is jarring or not. In any other normal circumstance, an ex-boyfriend would likely still be around, and it would be normal to move forward without thinking of the past, but this circumstance is different.
“Oh,” he says, sounding perplexed. “I guess I assumed incorrectly, but—” He might wonder why I’m still so deeply affected by the accident if he’s alive. “Why do you still have so much guilt? Or, why does this still have such a deep effect on your life?”
“He lives in a nursing facility, paralyzed, and unable to speak. He’s awake but can’t communicate or do much of anything aside from watching television.”
Brody’s head presses into the back of his seat as if his neck became too heavy to hold up. “He’s still suffering?”
“I wouldn’t say suffering, but he doesn’t have any quality of life. He was in a coma for almost two years after the accident.”
“Holy crap,” Brody says, exhaling a lungful.
“Do you like—do you visit him and stuff, or is it too hard?”
His question comes at the same moment we pull into the parking lot of my apartment and park. I twist in my seat to look at Brody. “I see him every Friday. I have since he came out of his coma.”
Brody blinks a few times before coming up with something to say in response. “Are you—I don’t know what the right thing to ask or say is …”
“No matter what happens in my life, I will continue to visit him on Fridays and be truthful to him about my life. I’m not sure if everyone would do the same, but it’s something I need to and want to do.”
“I understand, and I find it noble and incredible that you didn’t walk away—because it would be the easier thing to do.”
“I struggle with the direction to take my life, knowing he’s aware of what he’ll never have and what I can have. There’s a lot of guilt.”
“I’m so sorry your life ended up this way,” he says.
“There’s no reason to feel sorry for me, knowing how much worse life can end up.”
“Right,” he says.
“Anyway, I’m saying all this because if we continue moving in this direction, we’re heading, I don’t want to do so without you knowing the truth, and I feel like I owe Adam the truth, too, which weighs heavily on me.”
Brody seems out of sorts. His eyes can’t seem to focus as he looks around the parking lot sprawled out in front of us. “What kind of television does he watch?”
The question takes me by surprise. “Um, mostly DVD’s I guess, and if there’s something on one of the few channels in the facility.”
“Does he have an internet connection?”
“Well, there’s Wi-Fi in the nursing center, but he doesn’t need it for anything.”
“Yeah,” he says, still staring out into the darkness.
“Brody, I feel like I dropped a bomb on you.”
“You did.”
