When the Heart Falls(150)

"Still do. But I work only for me. My success. My money."

"What do you do?"

He turns to Jenifer, and they both chuckle this time. "You good with secrets, no?" he asks.

I roll my eyes. "Sure."

Duke pulls a plastic bag from his pocket. The stuff inside is green, like an herb. But it's not. He takes some out and rolls a joint. "You want to try?"

Pulling my knees up to my chest, shivering at the chill in the air, I shake my head. "No."

He puts the joint to his lips. "You mind?"

"No." A part of me knows this is wrong, but nothing can penetrate the numb haze around me.

He lights it, inhales, and exhales with a smile. "Nectar of the gods."

"Nectar is a drink," I inform him.

He holds up the rum bottle. "I have that too."

Duke and Jenifer take turns smoking the joint and taking swigs of the rum.

This is how he got his fancy car and nice clothes? "Pretty ambitious, aren't we?"

"I don't care." He takes another hit. "What about you, Winter? What do you do?"

"I'm a writer."

"Pretty ambitious, yourself. You published anything?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Still working on my book."

"Trying to make money for mama and papa?"

"They do okay on their own."

"Good. You work for yourself then. Finish book."

"Sure."

After a few more hits, Jenifer and Duke roll around on the grass, making out. "Where the guy, the Cade?" Duke asks, his voice slurred from too much booze and drugs.

"She said he's gone," Jenifer says, laughing. "I don't even know what that means. Did he die? I hope he didn't die. God. This is horrible. He died, and I'm laughing."

My heart tightens. "He didn't die. That's his brother. His brother's dying."

Jenifer's eyes widen. "He has a brother?"

"That sad," Duke says, taking another hit. "I'm sorry."

Jenifer takes the joint from him, inhales, then blows out smoke while she talks. "He's coming back, right?"

Breathe in. Breathe out. "I don't think so."

She coughs, then downs a shot of liquor. "What are you gonna do?"

I remove my shoes. "I'm going to swim in the lake, enjoy nature one last time. And tomorrow, I'll go back to the city, slide into my empty bed, and delete my novel."

"What?" Jenifer tries to sit up too quickly and falls back down. "You can't delete your novel. You're joking, right? You're joking."

"Sure." I stand, strip to my underwear and bra and dive into the lake.



Under the water the world is silent, but its heartbeat is loud, pulsing through the molecules of water. I stay under until I can't hold my breath anymore and then push up, inhaling oxygen as all the sounds of the world penetrate my brain again.

I roll onto my back, floating with my head partially submerged, the silence enveloping me again as I stare at the stars. A dying star streaks across the night sky, but all my wishes have died, too.

The cold hits me then, and I swim to shore and dry off. Duke and Jenifer are cuddling by a fire, kissing and laughing. I say goodnight and climb into my tent.

Sleep should claim me quickly. I haven't had any in two days. My body must be exhausted, but it won't submit to the night, and instead I lay there until I hear the moaning of Duke and Jenifer, who are no longer just dry humping.

The wall around myself crumbles then, and I roll over and let the tears once again claim me.





WINTER DEVEAUX

CHAPTER 28





SPENDING THE NIGHT in nature has done nothing to lighten the grief weighing heavy on my chest with every breath. Grateful that my fluency and grades give me some wiggle room with attending classes, I stay in the dorm when Jenifer leaves, her brows furrowed in concern. I fall asleep, I think, at least for a moment or two, but the sobs shaking my body wake me. Even unconscious, I’m grieving. I check my cell phone again, hoping for a text or call, but it’s silent. Is he home yet? Or still flying?

My laptop is open in front of me as I sit in bed staring at the words on the screen without seeing them. The entire contents of my book are selected, my finger hovering over the delete button. I don’t know how long I sit there, toying with self-destruction, when my cell phone rings.

My heart jumps into my throat, and I check caller ID, praying it’s him. It’s not. I choke back my tears and answer in French. "Bonjour, Monsieur Bellugue."

"Bonjour, Winter. Comment allez-vous?”

How am I? I don’t know. I’m dead. Empty. But I settle on something less macabre and reply in French. "Cold."

"It is a chilly day. But if you still wish to hear my critique of your novel, I'm having lunch at Vincent's right now. You know the place?"

"I know it."

"You'll come?"

"Oui. Au revoir."

I stare once more at my novel and close the file without deleting. Saved by the bell, as they say. Cade left a sweatshirt in our hotel room, and I pull it over my head and inhale his scent. The pain settles in me, and I hold it close.