“That isnotthe same thing as killing them,” I said, and, realizing his grip was loosening, I slid down next to him, reaching out to hold him and make sure he was looking at me as I spoke. “You loved them to hell and back, Clay, you would never have done anything to hurt them, let alone kill them. It was an accident, Clay. You didn’t set that fire, you didn’t take a gun to them or drive them off a cliff. It was a god-awful, fucked up accident.”
“Me,” he muttered, bowing his head. “I knew better.”
“Don’t we always know better after the fact?” I asked him gently. “Aren’t we always able to look back on things and realize that we were blind, stupid, thoughtless, impulsive, or whatever? We can’t account for everything that’s going to happen when wedo or don’t do something. Hell, the first apartment I ever had, I lived in for a year with an outlet that sparked every time you plugged something in, and there was always a weird burning smell coming from the bathroom light. There was never a fire the whole time I lived there, though I don’t know if that’s still true.”
“It’s not the same thing,” he moaned.
“It is,” I said. “It’s no different from crossing a busy road in traffic despite there being a crosswalk. Most of the time, people are fine, but sometimes someone gets hurt or killed. There’s no rhyme or reason, Clay. Sometimes awful, fucked up things happen to good, innocent people because luck is fickle and God can be cruel, but that doesn’t make it our fault. People drown in pools, they fall and die in the shower, break their necks on stairs, or set themselves on fire trying to light a grill. Accidents happen; horrible accidents like with you and your family. But just because you lived, just because youmighthave done something to change it in time without knowing ahead of time...doesn’t make it your fault.”
“I-I should have been there,” he whispered, looking off in the distance and clenching his eyes shut. “I should have been there.”
“And there’s a chance you would have died too.”
“Then I should have!”
I reached out, taking the picture in hand but not pulling it away, turning it up so the happy faces were peering up at him. “Do you think they would agree?”
“I don’t know,” he said roughly. “They’re dead.”
“You knew them better than anyone. You’d know if they would want that for you, or if they would want something else for you. What that is, I don’t know. Only you can answer that.”
He peered up at me with wet eyes and a soaked face, looking like a lost little boy. “What would you want?”
“What? If I were them?”
“Yeah.”
I gave him a sad smile. “I would... I wouldn’t tell you not to mourn me, because that just meant you loved me, and I couldn’t be there with you anymore. But I wouldn’t want you to spend the rest of your life ripping yourself apart or blaming yourself over what happened. I’d want you to find a way to use whatever you had to get to a point where you could smile again. And maybe, find it in yourself to make someone else smile like she’s doing here. You say you killed them, but you also did this. You lit up her eyes, and you made your son grin like he was the proudest kid in existence. You gave them happiness and love that some people only dream of, and in her shoes, I wouldn’t want you to waste all that by eating yourself up on the inside.”
He tried to smile, but it wobbled and wavered, then collapsed. “God, you sound like her. Not exactly, but she was like that...always seeing the positive. Even during the worst moments, I could count on her to eventually shake herself off and start looking for the sun again. And if not that, then the stars. And if there were no stars, then she was going to paint them herself until the real thing showed up.”
“Not the worst mentality,” I said softly.
“Yeah,” he said with a little laugh, setting the picture down and gripping my hands. “She would have really liked you. She would have made jokes about leaving me for you, just to get under my skin. She liked to bust my balls too.”
“You seem to have that effect on people,” I said, and felt something loosen when he managed a genuine, if weak, chuckle.
“She knew exactly who she was,” he said with a shake of his head, as if still wondering how such a thing was possible. “That was what drew me to her, the first time I saw her out with her friends. She just...knew. Complete confidence, no doubts in her mind about who she was.”
“So, not like me then,” I said, testing another joke and relaxing when I heard him snort and nod.
“You aren’t the same, there’s...some things,” he said. “You’re actually very different.”
I brushed my hand along his forehead because he seemed to respond well to a gentle touch before. “I’m sorry.”
He gave a wry smile. “You would not believe how sick of hearing that you become.”
“I think I would, even if it’s hard for me to imagine,” I said, tilting my head. “Let me get you some water, okay?”
“No,” he said, his eyes going wide. “Don’t...don’t leave.”
“I’m just going to the fridge.”
“No, just...I’m fine. I mean, I’m not, I just trashed this room, and Reggie is going to have a cow, maybe twin cows, but I don’t need water. Please, I need?—”
“Me to not move?”
“Y-yeah...no.”
