That was one of the images that haunted his dreams for months. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes to combat the sting of tears.
"I can't imagine how difficult that must have been for you."
And still is.
He lifted his head to see tears on Riley's cheeks. She made no move to wipe them away.
"For weeks, I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I saw his lifeless body, and I watched his mother collapse all over again. I couldn't help thinking about all the things little Isaac would never get to experience. Drive a car. Go on his first date. Kiss a girl. Fall in love."
"Daniel, don't do that to yourself."
"Do what? Acknowledge all I took away from Isaac and his family?" He shook his head as he picked up his knife and stick again. "Too late. I did that for two months. Every day, I relived that accident over and over. I thought of the things I robbed those parents of. I went to the funeral, but I stayed in the background. I didn't want to upset themeven more than they already were. I even went to their house a couple weeks later."
Again, Daniel's knife cut deep scars into the wood. "The mother broke down on the doorstep when she saw me. Then her husband came out. I tried to apologize, but there weren't words adequate enough to express how truly sorry I was. The father was gracious. He told me he didn't hold me responsible, but he asked me to never come again because it upset his wife too much."
"I'm so sorry." Riley squeezed his arm.
"Everyone tells me I shouldn't blame myself, but I do. I should have just let that teenage driver hit me. And if I hadn't gone to buy that motorcycle in the first place, Isaac would still be alive." He shook his head in disgust. "I bought it anyway and developed a death wish. I spent hours riding at extreme speeds on back roads, but it didn't help."
"Is that how you broke your leg? By wrecking the dirt bike?"
"Not exactly." He stared out across the water again as he shook his head. "I don't know if I ever told you about my roommate..."
"The one who kept his shelf in the fridge full of beer?" Riley's tone showed her disapproval.
"That's the one. A couple months after the accident, I was as messed up as the night it happened. He convinced me to have a beer. Said it would make it all go away."
Riley snorted, but Daniel kept talking. "It tasted disgusting, but I kept drinking. First one, then a second and a third. After a few beers, I couldn't picture little Isaac's face so clearly anymore. So, I drank until I puked, then I drank some more. I kept going until I passed out. I had a horrible hangover the next morning, but I didn't mind, because I felt like I was getting the punishment I deserved."
"You didn't deserve to be punished." This time Riley's hand landed on his shoulder.
"Guilt ate at me for turning to alcohol, but the following week, images of that little boy kept coming back to me, and by the weekend, I couldn't wait to have a few beers to help me forget again. It wasn't long before drinking became my coping mechanism, but beer was no longer strong enough to dull the pain." His cuts against the wood grewmore rapid. "Alcohol masked the pain, made me numb. It made me forget and not care. About anything."
"I blew off most of my classes the last half of that term. Barely managed to graduate. I lost my job, but I was fortunate to secure an internship with a prestigious architectural firm. I told myself I needed to stop drinking or I'd screw it up, and I tried. I tried so hard. I managed to stay high functioning for a while, but when the internship got stressful, I began drinking more heavily. Within six months of that first drink, I was well on my way to becoming addicted."
"I'm sorry you went through that alone, Daniel. I wish you'd called me. I would have done my best to talk you through those difficult nights or helped you find someone—a professional—you could talk to."
"I thought about calling you all the time, but I couldn't bring myself to dial your number. We made the break final, so naturally, I felt like I'd lost my best friend."
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault. I'm the one who was weak. The one who made all the wrong choices."
"But you were dealing with so much."
He held up his hand. "There is no justification for my actions. Actions have consequences. Lasting consequences. I have to live with mine. Some of them are painful and lifelong. I have a record now. That will never go away."
"A record?"
He picked up his knife and stick yet again. "One day, I made the mistake of getting on my motorcycle after having a couple drinks." He shook his head at himself. "I caused an accident. Fortunately, no one was hurt besides me, but it totaled their car."
"That's when you broke your leg."
"Yes. It hurt like crazy, but I welcomed the pain because I knew I deserved it. My parents came to get me from the hospital, but I couldn't leave Portland, because I was under arrest for drunk driving. Eventually, they were allowed to post bail for me and bring me home. I almost became addicted to my pain meds as a replacement for thealcohol. Fortunately, Emily saw the warning signs and helped me through it all."
"Wow," Riley said, "I had no idea you were dealing with so much that summer. When you acted so distant, I thought it was because you didn't want anything to do with me after our breakup."
He turned to face her. "It was the opposite, Ri. I wanted so badly to spend time with you, but I was ashamed of what I had done, of what I had become. I didn't want to see the disappointment in your eyes that I saw in my parents' eyes and in Jake's when I first came home."
