Page 3 of Let Me Show You

“Gabe, wake up!” Blondie shakes him, but I stop her.

“Don’t. He probably has a concussion.”

“You motherfucker, this is your fault!” She jabs a finger in my shoulder.

“I’m calling 911,” the bartender says. “Someone better call his wife.”

The next hour is a blur.

Gabe’s pulse is weak, and he doesn’t regain consciousness. When the paramedics arrive, they take him to the hospital in the next town over. I can’t bear to call Katie and tell her myself, so I call Gemma and ask her to drive Katie to the hospital while I follow the ambulance in my truck.

Katie’s hysterical when the doctor tells her they’ve put him in a medically induced coma so his brain can heal. It’s swelling, and there’s a chance he could have brain damage.

Five days go by, and my worst nightmare happens. Gabe is considered brain-dead due to the blunt force trauma he suffered when he fell and hit his head.

My body goes from being in shock to utterly numb as I take in everything that’s happened. Katie’s a mess, his parents won’t even look at me, and my sister tries to console me, but I know she’s torn between being there for me and comforting her best friend.

I don’t fault her, though, because I’m to blame for this. I should’ve stayed home that night and minded my own damn business.

The morning of his funeral, I contemplate not going, but Katie begs me to attend. My dad tells me I would regret it later if I didn’t, so I put on my only black suit and attend the wake and service. I can hardly speak to Katie, but the fact she talks to me is mind-blowing. I’m waiting for her to wake up and hate me.

She clings to me for comfort, but I don’t deserve her forgiveness, so I don’t ask for it. Seeing Gabe in that maple box with gold embellishments makes me feel sick. It’s an out-of-body experience, like none of this is real. How can this be happening? I wish I could wake up from this nightmare.

Gemma told Katie my side of the story—about the blonde and how a fight broke out—although she never asked for an explanation. Honestly, I think she’s still in shock.

I want to explain everything to her but aren’t sure where to start. I had no intention of hurting him that night and only had her best interest in mind. She deserved better, and her husband should’ve been home with her that night.

As I watch them lower my cousin’s casket into the ground, three police officers walk up and interrupt.

“Apologies for intruding, but we’re looking for Noah Reid.”

Everyone turns, and I nod at the officers. They took my statement at the hospital the night of the fight along with everyone else who was there. I’m not sure what was said, but I told them the truth—he pushed and punched me, so I hit him back.

“I’m Noah,” I speak up.

The three of them circle me, then one guy grabs my arms.

“We have a warrant for your arrest for the murder of Gabe Reid.” He cuffs my wrists, and the audible gasps echo around me. As he reads my Miranda rights, I look at my dad and Gemma. Then I find Katie and watch her face drop. I’ll never forget the look of pure shock, sadness, and fear on her face. I’m in disbelief and horrified that I caused this.

“Noah, stay quiet. I’ll meet you down there with our lawyer,” my dad tells me. I keep my head down as they walk me to the cruiser and put me in the back. Though I’m mortified, I look out the window anyway and meet Katie’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I mouth to her. She’s been crying all afternoon, but a new set of tears falls down her cheeks as she stares at me.

When I get to the station, I quickly learn about the witnesses’ statements used against me. Gabe's side chick exaggerated reality, but without Gabe to confirm, it’s my word against hers. The fact our fight resulted in his death means they can charge me for this.

I’m placed in the county jail until my court date. The lawyer encourages me to take a plea deal because if my case goes to a jury, the prosecutor will push for a harsher one. When my day to stand in front of the judge arrives, I plead guilty and accept the sentence for a class B felony. My family and Katie sit behind me as the judge reads my sentence.

Twelve years for involuntary manslaughter.

My dad and Gemma are distraught, and Katie gives me the saddest, most pitiful expression I’ve ever seen. I don’t know what she’s thinking because we haven’t spoken since the funeral two weeks ago, but I see the disappointment and pain written all over her face.

Everything in my life changes in the blink of an eye.

She knows I’m the reason her husband is dead.

The reason her unborn son will grow up without his father and why she’ll have to raise him alone.

How do I apologize for that? Nothing I say could ever be enough or change things. Instead of helping, I hurt her, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself for what I’ve done.