This Is Not How It Ends(63)

Elise was in Coral Gables. I heard her shuffling around her kitchen, worried sick, though her demeanor had hardly changed. It was how she’d successfully managed Philip all these years.

“Elise.” I was openly crying now. “What do you know? Why are they keeping him?”

I was relying on what the woman told me earlier being a mistake. That she’d called the wrong person. That Philip wasn’t in danger. It was the moment when the bargaining began. When life fractured in two, and you frantically tried to fit it back together.

“They were deplaning,” she said. “He came down the stairs, lost his footing, and fell. He banged his head, and they think he may have a concussion. They’re keeping him sedated to bring down the swelling, and then they’ll run some more tests.” Her voice dropped, and she sounded less certain. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”

I closed my eyes and succumbed to the unknown. The fear snaked through me, and I swallowed it back. Breathe. Breathe. But I couldn’t. Philip fell. Philip never fell. Or tripped. Ever. He was coordinated and athletic. When he walked, it was graceful, decisive. People like him were never unbalanced.

I gripped the phone tighter in my hand. “Elise, I’m really scared.”

Her flat, take-charge attitude did little to soothe me. “Meghan’s flying in. You won’t be alone. The airport’s opened. She’ll meet you at the hospital. I’ll try to get there, but I have to wait for the flooding to subside.”

I trusted her—I always had, though I knew it would be some time before I felt steady again. It was my fault. Our fault. I did this.

I had a difficult time imagining Philip lying in a pool of his own blood with people fawning over him. No one told me such, but my imagination had a way of detailing what this scene looked like. Philip would hate random strangers seeing him like that. Fear of falling. I rewound the tape in my brain to a less scary version.

“Charlotte, I understand you’re upset. As soon as the doctors know something, you’ll be the first to hear. Now go get yourself ready. Philip will be waiting for you. I’ll be in touch.”

She hung up, and I felt the dizziness at once, a nausea that swept up my stomach. Sunny tried to lick my tears, and I buried my face in his fur. By now, Ben was fully clothed, resting an arm around my shoulder. It was subtle, but I backed away. I couldn’t be touched, especially not by him. Standing, I paced the floor. “I need to go to Philip. He’s never needed me before. He’s always taken care of everything . . . Oh my God, Ben, look what I’ve done to him.”

If he were yesterday’s Ben, my friend, he’d reassure me, the comforting way he always knew how. But he was not my friend anymore. He would never be my friend again. We’d crossed a line, and we couldn’t go back.

Like strangers, we stood apart. He switched on his cell phone and searched for updates on the power, road closures, anything to distract us from what we’d just done. Beeps indicated they’d tried to reach him, too. I felt him all over me; I smelled him on my skin and in my hair. It would be some time before I removed the traces of him from my body.

Panic began to settle in, and I had no control over my worry. “What if something happens? What if I can’t leave?” I dialed Philip’s number, and it went straight to voice mail. I hung up and dialed again just to hear the flurry of his voice. Alive Philip. Conscious Philip. Dahling Philip.

Ben grasped my shoulders. “Charley, you need to calm down.”

His eyes were a dark green stained with my imprint.

“I’ll take Sunny out and check on the streets. We may not even be able to get you out of here today.”

His doubt sucked the air from my chest. “No!” I broke away, stepping back from him. “I need to get to him. I need to go today. Now.”

He forced me still, gripping me tight, pulling me toward him so I couldn’t break free. The pain in my arm throbbed. “Whatever it is, we’re going to get through it. Philip’s going to get through this.” He lowered his head to mine. “I’ll be here for you. You won’t go through this alone. He’s my friend, too.”

I wished he hadn’t said that. He couldn’t be more wrong. He’d betrayed Philip in the worst conceivable way, and just because he wasn’t the one wearing a ring on his finger didn’t lessen the deception.



Ben and Sunny exited first. When it was safe for me to leave the bedroom, I tiptoed past Jimmy’s door and lowered myself onto the couch. The chaos outside had me jumpy. Trees were uprooted, thrown against the house. Branches and debris were scattered along the sand. Leaves filled the pool like fall in Kansas City, and the sky was coated in a thick puff of gray clouds.

I jumped at the sound of the front door as Ben made his way outside. Simultaneously, Jimmy stepped into the room. His hair was flattened from sleep, and he rubbed his eyes.

“Hi, Charley.”

“Hey, Jimmy.” My throat felt lined with sand. “Did you sleep all right?”

He nodded, heading toward the kitchen in a T-shirt and flannel bottoms that dragged along the floor. “Don’t open the fridge,” I called out. “The power . . . we have to keep things cold.”

He picked through the cabinets and poured himself a bowl of modified cereal—nut-free, gluten-free, and most likely flavorless. He scooted next to me on the sofa and scooped a handful into his mouth. He didn’t notice that I was shaking.