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“The photo hasn’t been sold yet or leaked. That’s the only saving grace in this fucking disaster.”
I tried not to take it personally. That he would use “disaster” when all I saw was “joy” in that photo. “Wait, then how did you get this?”
“Luna. Someone had sent it to her by accident, apparently. It just said ‘here’s the photo for tomorrow’s edition. I want payment doubled.’ Luna didn’t recognize the number, and when we called back, it goes straight to a generic voicemail.”
“Shit… But this could be it. Maybe this is how we find the person, then. They had to have Luna’s number if they sent it to her by accident. I can talk to someone who helps out at Stonewall. Her name is Anya; she’s an excellent hacker. She can figure—”
“Don’t you get it? It doesn’t fucking matter anymore. None of it does.”
“What? But we can stop it.”
“And then what? It’s like a bucket riddled with bullet holes. You plug one leak and another one follows. Unless I throw the bucket away completely. Go back to hiding. Go back to hating every day of my fucking life.” Nick turned to me. His eyes were glowing, but not with the light I had fallen for. It was an angry glow, made more so by the stern set of his brow, wrinkles appearing on his forehead from the tension rising in his body.
“You know what it felt like, waking up every day, knowing I had to put on my mask so that I wouldn’t upset my parents? So that I don’t upset the country? It felt like I woke up on a bed of glass. Every. Single. Fucking. Day.” His cheeks were growing red underneath his five-o’clock shadow. “And do you know what it felt like waking up next to you? Like paradise. It didn’t even matter if we were waking up in my room or on hammocks somewhere on the beach. As long as I could look to my side and see you, things felt right. No glass.”
He turned from me again. His chest and back were getting red, too. The emotion inside him was rising to a breaking point.
“We can buy some time, Nick. I’ll find the leaker, and that’ll buy you time to figure things out.”
“I have figured things out! That’s the thing, Shy. I know what I want. I’m just too fucking scared to get it.”
Words got caught in my throat. With his voice raised, Nick’s demeanor shifted. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing, but I also didn’t want to say anything at all. “You can overcome that fear. You can push past it.”
“I thought I could. I really did. That’s why I broke up with Cristella. That’s why I kissed you, why I followed you and handed you a ChapStick that wasn’t even yours. I have moments of strength. But, at the end of the day, I’m a coward. One ruled not by crown but by fear. I’m scared of a fucking photo. How pathetic is that?”
He had his back to me, but the way his voice cracked made it feel like he had dug a stake through my heart. He raised his hand and wiped at his face before turning back to face me.
“That morning, the day I broke up with her… fuck. I haven’t told anyone about this. I haven’t even said it out loud, not to myself.”
Nick’s face cracked, and his lips shook before he covered them, turning away from me. It felt like I was helplessly watching from the shore as a tsunami crested on the horizon. Frozen in place and wrought with fear, I couldn’t say or do anything. I wanted to reach for his hand and pull him out of the dark, cold waters he was struggling not to drown under. Instead, I wrung my hands together, my head spinning.
He gathered his strength and said, “I almost jumped.”
Those three words hit me like a semitruck slamming into a sedan.
“I walked to the highest point,” he continued, his voice cracking, reflecting the same cracks I felt over my heart. “I walked up there. It was early; the sun hadn’t come up. No one was around. I remember a single bird, don’t know what type, but it chirped and landed right on top of a lamppost. I remember everything else being covered in silence. And I said to myself, ‘This is—’” His voice lilted, taking on a higher pitch. I didn’t hold myself back this time. I reached out. I grabbed his hands in mine, held his gaze. I let him know I was here with him, that I was listening and absorbing his every word. My lip quivered, but I held strong for him, wanting to serve as his anchor.
He didn’t take his hands from mine. He straightened his back and sniffed a few times. “I said, ‘This is it.’ I didn’t want to keep living a lie. I knew I couldn’t. Every day had been a new torture. And I didn’t see a way out of it, I just didn’t.” He shook his head, taking a hand from mine only to wipe at his cheek. “And then something happened. Something clicked. I was looking down at the dark water, about twenty meters below me, and I realized that, as badly as I didn’t want to live a lie, I also didn’t want to end on the lie. I didn’t want to die and not give myself a chance at something better. I’d be robbing myself. And I would have robbed everyone around me. It was like an ‘aha’ moment, just like the ones on TV, except this one ended up saving my life. I realized I was making a huge mistake. I stepped back, away from the banister. The bird flew away when I did, singing a song. I’d never heard a bird sing so early in the morning.
