Guilt churns in my belly as we approach the apartment complex. But I had to do this—to come and see her, to make sure she’s all right. Something inside me demanded it. Losing a fawn… that’s not something anyone should go through by themselves. As one of the fathers, it’s my responsibility to her.
My emotions are a tangle as we park and get out of the car. I let Arthur and Bennett go first as they head to her apartment. None of the lights are on inside.
Arthur knocks gently on the door, then we wait. But there’s no answer. He knocks a little harder this time and calls out, “Bree, it’s me.”
We wait another thirty seconds before the door finally cracks open. A small face appears in the gap.
“Mangelli?” Bree asks, her voice scratchy. “Why are you here?”
“I came to check on you. Please, let me in.”
She opens the door a little wider, and her eyes land on me. She instantly recoils, pulling the door almost closed again.
I hold up my hands in surrender, hoping she doesn’t lock us out just because I came along.
“It’s nothing nefarious,” I say. “I can go sit in the car instead.”
Green eyes watch me from the darkness, studying me. At last, she lets out a resigned sigh and pushes the door open for us. Then she turns and retreats into the dark apartment.
Arthur shoots me a look that says I’d better behave myself, and I find his fierce protectiveness interesting and new.
He searches the wall for a light and flips it on as Bree finds her way to the kitchen table. She slides into a chair, pulls her feet up onto it, and wraps her arms defensively around her knees.
“What do you guys want?” she asks in a tired voice. “I feel like shit and I don’t need to feel like more shit.”
“I’m not here for that.” Arthur pulls out a chair and scoots it beside her, then sits down. She’s dressed in wrinkly pajamas, her hair mussed around her face, her round cheeks red. I wonder if they’re always like that. “I’m here to make sure you’re all right. We got the news.”
“I’m sure you did.” She pulls her knees in tighter. “But I’m fine. Okay? Just fine. They gave me this pill, and I’ve been bleeding like a motherfucker”—she winces as she says it—“but everything will be okay when it’s all said and done.”
Even I can tell every word out of her mouth is a lie and I barely know her. She’s fraying, held together with duct tape, protecting herself.
From me.
Arthur sets his hand on top of hers. “It’s all right if it’s not fine,” he says gently. “I’m not fine. I’m very, very not fine.”
Her eyes lift, and there’s an immeasurable sadness in them. He takes both of her hands in his palms and looks right into her eyes, in a fierce way I’ve never seen before.
“All my hopes and dreams were in that fawn. In the one we made with you.” He bends his head, ears drooping. “It meant everything to me, Bree.”
She sniffles, and her eyes moisten as she strokes Arthur’s hands. I feel like an invader watching this moment play out, this tenderness between them I never even saw form.
“I’m sorry,” Bree whispers, reaching out to stroke his ear. “I don’t know what happened.” Then she breaks into tears, and they rend my heart in half.
“There was so much blood,” she says in a choked voice. “What did I do wrong?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” says Bennett, approaching her from the side. He strokes her shoulder. “No one did. It just happens.”
“But why did it happen to me?” She looks so helpless and small.
“I don’t know.” He crouches down so he’s looking up into her eyes. “Just a terrible fluke.”
The tears stream faster down her face, leaving red tracks. “I’m sorry,” she mutters, tucking her face between her knees. “I’m so sorry.”
What does she have to be sorry for? When I step forward, everyone freezes, looking up at me. I am the intruder here, the undesirable presence. Surely nothing I say will help, but I have to try, because the way she’s crying is ripping my heart in half.
“This isn’t your fault.” I sit down at the other end of the table, doing my best not to be intimidating. “Not at all. So please don’t be sorry.”
Bree doesn’t look up. She’s not interested in what I have to say, and I don’t blame her. But Arthur and Bennett are right, and she shouldn’t have to go through this by herself.
