Beyond the Point(106)
Fearing she might wake Dani with her tossing and turning, Avery rubbed her eyes and slipped out of the room without making a sound.
When the coffee finished brewing, Avery poured herself a cup and went to the living room, where she turned on the television, making sure to keep the volume on low. The Today show news team reported from the Upper West Side of New York City, waiting for the start of the Thanksgiving Day Parade. Avery’s cell phone rested on the coffee table, conspicuously silent. It had been two weeks since Noah’s fiancée had answered his phone. Since then, Avery had cradled her phone in her hands almost constantly, willing herself not to contact him, while simultaneously hoping he’d text or call. If they spoke again, would he try to justify what he’d done? Would he pretend it had never happened? Or would he simply disappear, free to proceed with his life, his marriage, his future, without feeling the consequences?
Over the last few days, as Avery had spent time in Hannah’s house, it was impossible not to see the differences between her relationship to Noah and that between Hannah and Tim. Tim had left handwritten notes to Hannah all over their house. Everywhere Avery turned, there were photos of them together—including one on Hannah’s bedside table of the couple in Rome. In it, Tim was smiling so wide. He held Hannah up off the ground, like a husband would carry his wife over the threshold of a new house. Avery had taken that picture. And even then, she remembered looking through the lens and feeling a sort of reverent melancholy. Not once had a guy looked at Avery the way Tim looked at Hannah: He was only smiles. Only pride. Only encouragement. And Noah? What was he?
Only absent. Only mystery. Only smoke.
No matter what people said, Avery knew they were wrong about the truth. The truth didn’t set you free; it chased you down. It came at you from behind, gained speed, and then eventually overtook you until you could no longer deny its power. Lies might have been fast, but truth had endurance. And it would always outlast the competition.
Avery pulled her knees into her chest and let the tears fall on her cheeks. She held her phone in her hands and opened it and closed it, over and over again, wishing for a call to come through.
She hadn’t told Dani about Noah, nor had she told her about the letter she’d received about John Collins’s parole. With the money and resources in Collins’s family, he would probably have a job on Wall Street in no time at all. It seemed completely unfair to Avery. Why did these men get to get away with their violence? Why did they get to move on from their crimes, while she felt so trapped by them?
“What time is it?”
Dani’s groggy voice suddenly broke through Avery’s thoughts. Avery turned and saw Dani standing in the dark hallway, rubbing her eyes.
“Six thirty,” Avery said.
“My body is so confused. I never wake up this early. But it’s like, noon in London.”
“I made coffee,” Avery said, lifting her mug. “Oh wait. You don’t do caffeine anymore. I forgot.”
Dani waved off Avery’s concern, padded into the kitchen, and returned with a hot mug of her own. She sank into the other side of Avery’s couch, under a thick blanket. “I’m not supposed to drink the stuff,” she said, taking a long sip. “But I need it right now.”
“Did you sleep okay?”
Dani shook her head. “I just keep thinking about her stuck over there.”
“They can’t keep her there forever.” Avery shook her head as tears welled in her eyes. “I doubt she’ll even want to see me when she gets back.”
“That’s not true.”
“I flaked on her so many times last year. And for . . . such stupid reasons.”
“Hindsight is an unfair standard to use against yourself,” Dani replied.
Avery took a deep breath and another sip of coffee. It felt strange to be sitting so close to Dani and yet to feel so far away. A huge wall existed between them, built with bricks of time and distance and things left unsaid. But if Tim’s death had taught her anything, it was that you couldn’t waste a single moment with the people you love. As much as it was going to hurt, she had to muster the energy and scale that wall.
“I got a letter,” Avery said finally, dispassionately. “I got it this summer, actually. I guess I just was trying to pretend it didn’t matter.”
Dani’s eyes grew a few sizes larger. She put her coffee mug down and looked at Avery with concern.
“John Collins got paroled.”
“Oh, Avery.”
“I sure know how to pick ’em, don’t I?” she continued, surprised by the sarcasm in her voice. “Every guy I’ve ever dated has ended up screwing me over. Or maybe I’m the one screwing myself over. God. Listen to me. Complaining about my life when Hannah—”
“Don’t do that,” Dani said, this time with force. “Do you hear yourself? Do you ever give yourself a break? A second to breathe? To feel what you’re actually feeling before judging yourself so harshly?”
“That’s the problem. I don’t feel anything. I’m completely numb.”
Avery felt hot tears form in the backs of her eyes, and soon, they were falling. How did Dani do it? She could always cut straight through the crap and directly to the heart of the matter.
“I don’t feel like I deserve to feel upset about my life,” Avery admitted. “I should be fine.”