Absolution(135)

A million thoughts rattled through him. Most of them didn’t even have words attached to them, just fleeting emotions, racing through his subconscious, leaving emptiness in their wake.

Grief. Love. Guilt. Shame. An all-encompassing desire to turn back the clock.

He didn’t even realise he had started walking again until she looked up and their eyes met. The rain made it impossible to tell for sure, but he thought she was crying. She slipped an arm out of one of her crutches and smoothed her wet hair back from her face.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” he said, willing his voice not to break. “Just in case you think I’m following you or something.”

She slid her arm back into her crutch and shrugged helplessly. “I just wanted to… I don’t know. I think I just really needed to talk to him.”

Her eyes were red-rimmed and dark. He tore his gaze away from her to stare at his father’s grave. It was still covered in flowers, some of them now dying, some obviously fresh and new. He still had trouble relating this mound of earth to his father. He half expected him to come up behind him and put his hand on his shoulder.

“Callum told me what happened, the night of the accident. That’s why you left, isn’t it?”

It hurt to hear her say it, much more than he thought it would. She knew. He should feel relieved, some sense of having done the thing he set out to do should have flooded through him. Instead, he felt as if he stood on the edge of a very high cliff, waiting for her to push him over. In answer to her question, all he could do was nod.

“He said the car was leaking gas.”

He nodded again, his head pounding. She moved so she was facing him, and there was no escape from her penetrating gaze. She stood up straighter, tilting her chin in defiance. Where she found the strength to do that, he didn’t know. It was all he could do to remain upright when his entire body wanted to curl into a ball, his back to the world. Rain trickled down her face, softening her expression, but her eyes shone out at him like beacons in the dark.

“I know I’ve said this before, but I want you to really hear me this time. It wasn’t your fault. There’s no blame here, Jack. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

She was willing him to believe, he could feel it. He desperately wanted to, but letting go of the guilt was like closing his eyes and jumping into the abyss.

“I can’t fix this for you, just like you can’t fix what happened to me. You don’t need me to forgive you, you need to forgive yourself,” she said, her eyes now an intense blue, piercing his soul. “When you came back, you told me you’d do anything to make it up to me, remember? You promised me you’d do whatever it takes. Well, this is what it takes – this is what I need from you. I need you to let go of everything that happened that night. I need you to stay, but not with that hanging over us.”

The pain was excruciating. He felt as if he were being pulled in two different directions, physically split down the middle. Guilt over what he did that night was such a big part of who he thought he was – without it he was lost. Taking the guilt out of the equation, what was left?

“Please,” Ally begged, her chin quivering. The strength he had seen in her just moments before seemed to melt away. “I need you.”

And then it was blindingly clear. He was here to make a difference. He came back because he needed to clear his conscience, make up for what he had done. He had promised her he would, he had promised his father he would. It was time to let go of the words and let his actions speak for themselves.

“I’ll do anything for you,” he whispered.

And he meant it.





CHAPTER 25




“No man is an island.”

- John Donne




Jack unlocked the side door to his father’s garage and reached around the corner for the light switch. As bright, white light bathed the interior, he breathed a sigh of relief. Unlike the house, the garage was untouched. Flashes of that night rushed in on him.

Jimmy throwing him across the room. A boot in the ribs. Smashing glass. Splintering wood.

If he was going to repair what was broken, he needed tools and cleaning equipment, which was why he was out here. Looking around now, it felt like an oasis – calm, quiet, tidy.

He ran his hand over his father’s car, the paint job smooth and cool beneath his fingers. Tools were neatly lined up and hanging from the pegboard behind the workbench. Labeled cardboard boxes stood stacked up against the far wall.