“I would be ecstatic.”
“Would you feel relieved or excited for a potential future with him?” His question is hard to ingest. I haven’t considered a future with Adam since we were dating during our senior year. They were girlish dreams of a happily ever after with a high school sweetheart, dreams never to become a reality because he was going to school across the country.
“It could never happen. His damage is permanent.” It’s the easiest answer.
“That’s not what I asked,” Brody continues. “I’m getting a BLT. What do you want to eat?”
“A Caesar wrap,” I tell him.
We pause our conversation while Brody waves our waitress over, quickly calling out our order plus two waters. “Anyway, if things were different, and he was able to walk out of the nursing facility tomorrow, would you be skipping into the sunset with him or walking away with a sense of relief?”
I don’t know Adam anymore. We haven’t conversed. We haven’t stared into each other’s eyes. We haven’t grown together. There aren’t sparks. I realized the sparks had flickered out before the accident—when Brody kissed me. It was different. It was electrifying, proof of a higher sensation of feelings.
If Adam walked away unscathed, I’d feel relief, like a burden had been lifted. Guilt wouldn’t play a large role in my life, and I would feel free in a way, but I would need to move on to a life without a rewind button.
“I’d feel relief,” I tell Brody with honesty.
Brody nods with understanding. “Okay.”
“Okay,” I repeat. What does it mean?
“I will own up to my part of this blame, Journey. I was the other half. I’m taking some of the burden, and I’m going to love Adam the way you do.”
I can’t imagine how confused my face must appear to him, but I haven’t heard so much nonsense in a long time. “I’m not sure how to respond to what you said.”
“You don’t need to respond. I want to be a good person like you.”
“What does one thing have to do with another?”
“I need your help this afternoon,” he says.
“I have a doctor’s appointment. I can’t.”
The lines in Brody’s forehead sharpen. “Why?”
I shrug. “I might be sick.”
Brody leans forward, keeping his voice low. “What kind of sick?”
“I’ve lost twenty pounds without trying over the last six months. I don’t know.”
Brody leans back into his chair and runs his hands down the sides of his face. “I’m going with you. Hannah is staying after school for Girl Scouts and getting a ride home with Parker.”
“No, you’re not coming with me. I don’t need anyone to hold my hand.”
“Tough. I’m coming to hold your hand, and then we’re running an errand after so I can prove to you how I’m going to help your life.”
“What if I say no?”
“It’s not the type of no I need to listen to.”
17
“You’re staying here, Brody.”My declaration might have sounded too much like orders for a dog.
“In the Jeep without the heat?” he asks. I don’t want him to freeze, so I toss my keys at him.
“Fine, here,” I say while stepping out of the Jeep. Before closing the door, I see Brody throw his back against the chair with a look of defeat. I don’t need a hand to hold, and he hasn’t figured this out yet.
