“I want to meet him and hug Omid,” I say. “He’s getting gift boxes for the rest of his life.”
“Just tell Hermès. They can double their usual deliveries to the house.” I pinch him and smile helplessly because even though his resultant laughter is wet, it’s still so precious to me. He could have been taken away from me. The thought is dreadful and I hug him tight as he strokes my hair. “He will like you,” he says softly. “How could he not?”
“Is that it?” I ask, raising my head and looking at him.
He nods. “They got me over the border, and I came home in one piece.”
“Not really. Seems to me you’re still fractured. There’s more, isn’t there?”
“I had Jez’s blood in my mouth. Isn’t that enough?”
“Not for you. There’s something else. Something you feel guilt over.”
Where does that deep-seated knowledge come from? Maybe it’s as simple as the fact that this man is the love of my life. I’ve spent years studying him, trying to find all the secret ways to hurt him. Now I can do the reverse and protect those secret little weaknesses. If that isn’t knowing him, then I’ll never know anyone.
“I should have persuaded him not to go to Afghanistan.”
“He wouldn’t have listened,” I say calmly.
“Then I should have triedharder. I knew something was wrong.” He looks away for a long few seconds, and I wait him out. Then he turns to me. “He was arguing with me when he was shot. I’d been patient for so long. I wish so much now that I’d stayed that way. Why didn’t I? He was my best friend and thelast words I said to him were that I hated him and I wanted out of our partnership. He was distracted by our argument.”
“Shit.”
I might have known it was this. There is no one like Reuben for taking on undeserved guilt. He holds himself responsible for far too much.
I choose and discard a few replies and then decide on the most direct one. “Why are you the only guilty person? You wouldn’t have been arguing if it weren’t for me. So, it must have been my fault too.”
“No.” The word is explosive and full of conviction. “It’s not your fault, for fuck’s sake.”
“And it’s notyours. It was a horrible accident in a world that’s full of them. It would have probably happened whether you had met me or not, whether you’d been arguing or not. Do not take on responsibility for a universe that is so irredeemably shitty sometimes.” I stop talking when he buries his head in his hands. His shoulders are shaking. “Roo?” I whisper.
“I left him.” His voice is tortured.
My hands flutter over his shoulders, not sure where to touch him. “You left Jez?”
He nods. “I cried and pleaded to go back. I should have brought his body home where he belonged. I left him there, and I don’t even know what happened to him. I won’t ever know where he ended up—whether they even dug a grave for him or just flung him by the side of the road.” Tears run down his face.
“No,” I say, scrambling into his lap and nearly sending us tumbling over. I loop my hands around his neck. “No. Look at me, Reuben.” He shudders and looks up, and I wipe away his tears with my fingers. “Did you honestly think that I would be disappointed in you for this?” He nods. “That’s not going to happen.”
He stares at me. “He was your father.”
“Fatherhood isn’t just the job description. It takes work which he never did.” I take a breath. “He was already dead,” I say firmly. “Nothing you could do or say wouldeverhave changed that fact. And you were with him. I can tell you that would have mattered. He wouldn’t have cared about being left. I also know that he wouldn’t want you to feel bad about that argument. It was just harsh words. The world is full of them and Jez knew it. Do you know what he would have cared about?” He shakes his head, and I kiss his temple. “That youlived. That you were saved and went on. I happen to know that would have mattered a lot to him.”
I hug him tight and say softly, “He died the way he lived, and none of that was your fault. You can’t let this hurt you anymore, Reuben. You are agoodman. Possibly the best I’ve ever known. Remember Jez and grieve him, but do it honestly for the real person he was. He was a flawed bloke, so make sure you remember his flaws as well as his great qualities. If you don’t do that, it will be like he wasn’t even real.”
He shudders hard once or twice, the movement going through him like an earthquake. I clutch him close, rocking him and making no attempt to stop the tears. They’re long overdue.
When he stops crying, I still hold him close, our bodies seeking warmth under the blanket. Above us, the stars are glittering. There are so many of them in the velvet sky, like a sparkly, faraway world. When he raises his head, they reflect in his eyes.
His face looks peaceful, and it’s almost a shock. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this—like he’s finally laid down a burden.
“Sorry,” he mutters.
“You have a lot to apologise for, but crying is definitelynoton that list.”
“List?” My mouth twitches at the welcome humour in his voice, so warm and real after everything he’s just said. “How many items are on this list?” he asks.
“It makesWar and Peacelook like a notes app.”
