Unexpected Gift(68)

My stomach burns from the alcohol and from my nerves, and I start to feel sick. I swallow my cowardice and my grief as I press play on the message that lasts for seven minutes and thirty seconds, which is something that I’ve been dreading having to do for a long time. Seven minutes is such a long time.

I let out another breath and turn on the speaker, pressing play.

“Caden!”

His voice makes me hold my breath, and this time, I can’t stop the tears from breaking.

“It’s Brandon—”

“And Amelia!”

I smile when her voice chirps in the background, and I wipe my face.

“It’s us, and we are on our way out of town like we planned. I’m going to be out of range in a few minutes, so the call might break up, but I had the need to call and tell you that I’m so damn proud of you, Caden—”

“—Me too!”

“You have succeeded so much in life, and I’m jealous of your ugly mug—”

“—he isn’t ugly! Stop it!”

“Anyway, I want you to know it’s okay. Everything is okay. We are great. The night is young. And while I’m out, living my life, I want to remind you to not forget to live yours. I’ve seen you dedicated. I’ve seen you fun. But I’ve never seen you serious about someone. I’m not saying my life is for you, but I know you, and you’d really love my life. I’m worried about you. Stop worrying about everyone else for once and worry about yourself. We are okay. Posie needs more than a fun uncle. She needs someone to really love her, besides us. We won’t be around forever. I don’t know what is making me say this. Maybe the universe is making me a damn mush—”

“—Language.”

I could practically hear him rolling his eyes at Amelia. “It’s okay to be a mush, Caden. And stop fighting so much with my sister. Maybe if you allow yourself to, you’ll actually like her. You’re my best friend. The best damn doctor I know, but you don’t know how to take care of yourself.”

“We love you, Caden!” Amelia shouts in the background.

“You’re loved, bro. I’ll see you soon.”

“Watch out, Brandon!” Amelia screams bloody murder before a loud crash echoes through the phone.

“No...” I whisper as my heart breaks. Tears flood my face as glass shatters, tires squeal, and the scared cry of Posie echoes in the background. I cover my mouth with my hand as I listen, and the phone never hangs up. I never hear a dial tone. I only hear rapid breathing and a gurgling sound like someone is choking on blood. “No, no, no!”

“Amelia,” Brandon chokes. “Amelia,” he repeats.

I’m only four minutes into the voicemail. There’s another three minutes of this. Sirens blare in the background, and Brandon gasps for air, struggling to speak, “Take care of them,” Brandon exhales, and everything grows silent.

“Brandon!” I scream into the phone, forgetting that it’s a voicemail. “Brandon!” I say in a tearful, hushed tremor.

The only sounds I hear are the wails from Posie and the yells from the first responders trying to get them out. I hang up the phone, unable to listen to the noise of my friends dying. I drop the phone on the ground and hold my head in my hands as I sob. He had been on the phone with me when they crashed.

“Oh, shit,” I say as my stomach turns and bile runs up my throat. I can’t stop hurling all the alcohol I ingested. I wipe my mouth on my sleeve, staring at their graves. I can’t help but wonder if I’m the reason they got into the accident. Is it my fault Molly is without a brother? Is it my fault Posie is without her parents?

I slump forward, clutching each mound of dirt on their graves until it’s a hard ball in my fists. “I’m so sorry.” I choke, wishing I never pressed play.

This is going to haunt me for the rest of my life.





Chapter Thirty





Molly





I check the clock on the wall. It says it’s midnight. And Caden isn’t home yet. He hasn’t returned any of my calls. I pace around the room, slapping my phone in my hand over and over again as I bite my thumbnail. “Ow,” I say and yank my finger away from my mouth to see that it is bleeding. I run toward the kitchen and turn on the faucet, and that's when I see headlights beaming.

A figure stumbles out of the car, holding something in their hand. When the headlights reflect off of it, I recognize it as being a bottle. “Caden?” I narrow my eyes, trying to figure out if it is really him. He doesn’t get drunk. He must have had a really bad day at work. He sways on the steps, holding onto the rail for balance. He nearly falls forward, but rights himself just in time before he completely falls on his face.

I run to the front door and swing it open, hurrying to his side to catch him. “Caden? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” I ask. I help him inside, keeping one arm wrapped around his waist. Damn, he is heavy.

“It’s my fault,” he slurs, tripping over his own two feet. He throws an arm out, allowing the door to catch his fall. “It’s all my fault.”

I open the door and groan when he puts his weight on me. I grunt, dragging him to the couch. His feet slip and slide, unable to gain traction to keep himself upright on his own. “It isn’t. Nothing is your fault, Caden.”