“I accused her of cheating. I didn’t really believe it, but the expression on her face when Kevin talked about keeping in touch with her ...”
He nods. “Yeah. Did you know anything about that?”
“No.”
“Oh boy,” my dad says.
“She lied to me. Now I’m just wondering about how many things.”
“Oh boy,” my dad says again.
“Twelve years.” I bury my hands in my hair.
His hand lands on my shoulder again. “You can’t think like that.”
“I’ve wasted all those years of my life on a girl who I now think wasn’t on the same page as me at all.”
“Think of the positives, Jim: You’re out of it, you’re still young, you’ve got a great job, and you’re living in a beautiful apartment.”
An old-timer stands up from his seat at the end of the bar and weaves his way toward the bathroom. I lift my whiskey and knock it straight back. “I need to go for a walk, Dad. Burn off some energy. I’ll see you back at home. Is that okay?”
He nods and pats my shoulder, and I head out the door and onto the still-warm streets.
Chapter 23
Sadie
When I tiptoe out of my bedroom and into the darkness of the living room, a single light is on in the kitchen, and James’s dad is standing with his hands on the countertop, staring down at the marble. His mom told me that James and his dad had gone for a drink and was very apologetic to me when she got back from the restaurant. She kept saying she thought we were together and that James was not being straight with them about what had happened with Jane. Then she filled me in on Kevin turning up and how awkward the whole thing was. It sounded insane.
“Is everything okay?”
James’s dad’s head snaps up. “I hope I didn’t wake you, Sadie.”
“No, I was just reading.” I glance at the couch and then down the hallway toward the bathroom. “Where’s James?”
“He was a bit upset after the conversation at dinner tonight. We went out for a drink, but …” He hesitates. “He had a whiskey then decided to go for a walk.”
Something tickles along the back of my neck. “Did he say where he was going?”
His dad shakes his head.
“Was he all right?”
“Not sure. He just said he’d wasted the last twelve years of his life and walked out.”
Oh,shiiitttt.
“I need to take myself off to bed,” his dad says. “I had a few whiskies after he left.” He raises a hand and weaves into Des’s bedroom.
Fuck.I examine the frayed cuff of my cardigan as he disappears, the piece of paper from James’s book fluttering through my head as if it were yesterday. If your son tells you he’s going for a walk, you think he’s going for a walk, don’t you? I stand in the darkness and stare at the lights of the apartment across the way, eyes tracking up story after story. Where would he go? I pull my phone out of my pocket. I’ve still got his location sharing on from when he got drunk. I click over to Google Maps, and there he is: a small circle on …the Brooklyn Bridge?
He’s on thebridge?
I trot back into my bedroom, yank on my jeans and a top, grab my keys, and in minutes I’m out on the street, heart thumping.
The girl’s code makes the boy sprout wings as he jumps.
Calm down.The Brooklyn Bridge is not an easy place to jump from. The pedestrian path runs down the middle and the cars go underneath. I jog down Water Street and then up by the side of the bridge, negotiating the dark steps before I hit the walkway. Once I’m there, I start trotting again. The steel struts are all lit up like an amusement ride, shadows falling across my path as the traffic thunders past below, even at one in the morning.The city that never sleeps.
