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And the worst part is, I don’t think I’ll ever know.
It’s like history repeating. Only this time, I have the ability to prepare myself mentally... if that’s even possible.
I lift my head—just enough to see the sun peeking over the tree-lined horizon—and ask God my one question:Why did you make it so easy to fall in love with her?
God doesn’t answer because God isn’t real.
God is merely a symbol of hope…
And an excuse for all the wrongs in the world.
Heart heavy and mind numb, I heave out a defeated sigh, push open the door, and step outside. I round one corner, and then another, knowing full well Ican’tsay goodbye to her, but understanding that at some point… I’m going to have to. And when I do, the pain will be unbearable.
“Hey…”
My head snaps up, and I stop in my tracks when I see Jamie sitting on the bench, hugging her knees to her chest. “Hey…” I respond, slowly moving toward her. I lift her keys in the air. “I filled the gas tank, made sure there was enough air in your tires. I didn’t want you…” I trail off when she pins me with her tear-soaked gaze.
Wiping at her cheeks, she cries, “I’m ready to talk now.”
My lungs expand, kicking back in, as if reminding me of their purpose. I sit down carefully beside her, leaving enough room between us for her to decide how close she wants to get. “Are we problem-solving or am I just listening?”
Turning away, Jamie focuses on the flower boxes we’d built and planted a few weeks ago. The silence stretches between us, but I don’t speak because I can tell she’s already at the top of the cliff, peering over the edge, and the last thing I want to do is push her.
I watch her, though. I stare at her profile as if it might be the last time I’ll ever get to do it. I’d spent so many mornings just watching her sleep, wondering if her soul was at peace in her slumber. Tears well in her eyes, and she’s slow to blink, letting those drops of liquid heartache cling to her lashes. Her chest rises, broken by her withheld sobs, and then her mouth parts, and I hold all the oxygen in my lungs and wait.
And wait.
“My therapist says I have something called dissociative amnesia.” She trails her eyes to mine. “She says that my brain blocked out certain parts of our attack to help me cope with it.”
I run a hand over my mouth, try to hide my reaction to her words—to the breaking of my heart at the sound of her quiet cries and her sniffs to combat them.
“I still don’t remember it fully, but right after it, when we were questioned by the cops, I… I couldn’t recall much of the attack. It wasn’t until your mom and Joseph showed me the police reports that—”
“What?!” I slide toward her. Just an inch. “When?”
“All I remember is the pain,” Jamie murmurs.
“When,Jamie?”
“You were in Boston with your dad to check out your campus, and they came to see me while I was at work. It was so weird,” she almost laughs. “I thought they were just coming to visit me, to make sure I was okay since you weren’t around…” She cries now, another sound to add to my heartbreak. “I sat with them atourtable, and I was smiling like an idiot… so happy, you know… but that’s not why they were there…”
My rage is instant, and it forces me to my feet. “I’m going to fucking—”
“Holden!” she cries, tugging down on my arm. “I need you to listen.”
I sit back down, try to control my emotions. “What did they say to you?”
“Please, calm down.”
“I am calm,” I grind out.
“Holden…”
I attempt a breath, and then three more, while I clench and unclench my fists.
Inhale.
Exhale.
