Page 131 of Allegiant

So I swipe at her message, and it opens. She wants to meet. Tonight. To apologize again. I don’t think she needs to, but I get it, so I agree to meet her at a local park near my place. It’s well lit and mostly private, but also public in a way that makes me feel safe.

She doesn’t hesitate to give me her ETA, so I hustle to my car, my heart dropping in disappointment when I realize Samson really isn’t in the shadows watching me, waiting. He left like I asked him to.

I hate that I hate that he did that.

I drive in silence to the meeting spot and hop out of my car. The sun is setting, and people are lingering on benches and under the pergolas in the shade. I stroll to the small pond in the middle of the park, a place where Adam and I would walk sometimes when we felt like we needed someplace serene. He’d always bring bread to feed the ducks. It wasn’t allowed, but he did it anyway.

“They’re hungry. Look at those little feathers. I can’t let them starve.”

I loved that about him. Always cared about everyone and everything.

“Hey” I hear, and I twist, seeing Adi appear from my right. She looks better than she did that night, her hair washed, her skin with more color in it. Her clothes are still far too baggy on her, but she looks more alive. More like the Adi I once knew and loved.

“Hey,” I say, lifting my hand in a small wave.

She comes up next to me, our shoulders brushing slightly as we turn and look across the pond.

“Thanks for coming,” she says after a long beat. “I wasn’t sure you’d be here.”

“I’ll always come here. For Adam more than anything, but also for you.”

She sniffles and swipes at her eyes. “I really am so fucking sorry. I…I can’t believe I ever thought you’d do that to him.”

I bob my head, my eyes stinging. I’m tired of crying. It’s all I’ve done since that awful night. But this is hard to swallow—the guilt, the sadness, the ache of missing him. “Thank you. I’d never hurt Adam. Never.”

“I know.” She swipes at her eyes again and lets out a small laugh. “Is your hulking bodyguard here?”

I shake my head, feeling my chest cave in on itself at the thought of Samson. “No, he’s not here. And he’s not my bodyguard. He’s not my anything.”

She lets out a small breath of surprise but says nothing else about it.

We’re silent once more, just standing side by side, watching the sun set on the horizon.

“Adam loved this place,” I say, unsure if she knew this about him. Back when he was alive, Adi was busy with boyfriends and work. She always made time for Adam, but I’m not sure how much of the mundane he shared with her.

She smiles fondly. “I know. He’d send me pictures. I’m pretty sure he named the ducks.”

“Yeah. Can’t remember which one is which, but he knew them.”

“He was perfect,” Adi says. “I miss him so fucking much.”

I nod, and it’s my turn to swipe at my eyes. “I do too. Every damn day.”

“He loved you, you know? He talked about you all the time. You were the brother he never had.”

“And he was mine.”

We peer over at each other, both of our eyes wet with unshed tears. We’re holding it together, but just barely.

“I know you lost your parents young, that he filled a missing part of your life. Or so he told me.”

“He did. And I failed him.”

She shakes her head, and her arm comes around me, pulling me into her for a long hug. “No. No, I did. I wasn’t there. That night I missed two calls from him, and I ignored them. It was my fault. Not yours.”

I squeeze her back, and she clings to me.

“I think we both might need to see a therapist.”