Left Drowning(84)

“Oh, Chris …” What in God’s name has Chris suffered through? I can feel him crying in my arms. How in the hell can I protect him from this? There is no way.

“I wasn’t strong enough to kill him, and I’m not strong enough to be with you.”

I shut my eyes, and for the next hour I keep him in whatever safety my embrace can provide.

We don’t move; we don’t talk.

We just cry. And breathe.

Later he pulls away slightly and looks at me through the dark. “I’m sorry about last night.”

“Don’t be.” I stroke my thumbs under his eyes and wipe away tears. “I said a lot of things that I shouldn’t have.”

“I’m not strong enough to be with you. I love you, sweet girl. Of course I love you. But I still can’t do this. You were right. What you said about me.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

Chris moves and leans his chest over mine. It’s hard not to cry when he kisses me, because we are kissing for the last time. So I drown in him, wanting to commit his taste and his feel to memory so that I will always have that. His tongue moves slowly, his lips delicately covering mine as we take in every detail of each other. Our hands stay clasped together, never parting.

He only says one thing to me as we kiss our way through the night. “You said something last night that was completely wrong. I could never touch anyone the way that I touch you. And I will never regret falling in love with you. Don’t forget that.”

And this is how we say good-bye.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE


Begin Again


Estelle makes good on her promise to video chat the shit out of me, and Sabin calls even more often. It’s a good thing because it’s been a long, quiet year since I left Matthews, one in which I’ve somehow managed to play successfully at being a grown-up. In the fall, I got a job at the same magazine where I did my summer internship. I live in my parents’ house and keep up the yard and the bills. I haven’t become an incredibly fast runner, but I keep at it, unflagging. I even adopted a dog from the local animal-rescue shelter that I named Jonah and with whom I am totally in love. One look at the dog and there was no choice. He is a f*cking German Shepherd, for Christ’s sake. I couldn’t go home alone.

It’s May now and unseasonably warm, and when Jonah and I come in from our Saturday-afternoon run, we’re both thirsty as hell. As I’m downing my water, the phone rings. It’s my old pal Nichole, who has turned out to be a great friend since I arrived back in Boston. Although she never stops trying to get me to go out and meet guys.

“You sure you don’t want to come out with us tonight after dinner? I’m meeting up with Stephanie and Abbi. Remember you met them last fall?”

I half smile at her persistence. “You’re sweet, but you know how I am.”

My friend sighs. “Oh, Blythe.”

“What?”

“You still miss him.”

“Nichole, we’ve been over this.”

“Honey.” She sounds like a seasoned advice-giving pro. “He’s getting married in a few weeks.”

I touch my fingertips to the necklace with all of our initials and sit down at the dining-room table, holding the phone. “I know.”

“You’re still not showing up?”

“I wasn’t invited. It’s a family-only ceremony. Somewhere in Newburyport, I hear.”

“I know you weren’t invited, but you could still show up.” She claps her hands. “To break up the wedding!”

“Absolutely not,” I say again.

“Newburyport is only an hour away. A nice drive north …”

Her sing-song voice is not swaying me in the least. “No. I’m not going for any reason.”

“Why the hell is he getting married in your territory? There should be some kind of rule about him not crossing into Massachusetts.”

“I guess the girl he’s marrying used to spend family vacations in northeast Massachusetts and loves the coast or whatever.”

“I think it’s shitty.”

“Join the club. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. James is coming home soon, and he and I are leaving for Maine the day before the wedding. Being in another state seems like a good idea.”

“So you’re not even going to see the rest of his siblings? I know how much you miss those guys.”

Now it’s my turn to sigh because I do miss them. Terribly. Sabin came to visit me twice this year. I celebrated my twenty-third birthday with his bear hugs and one too many cocktails. We manage to have a friendship that allows us not to talk about Chris, for which I am grateful. Our relationship can survive on its own. I’ve always known that intellectually, but it’s been good to see it in practice. This is true with Eric and Estelle, also, and I owe Estelle a video call tonight, actually.

“No, I won’t see them this trip. I don’t really want to be around them right after the wedding. It’d be too weird. Trying not to talk about everything.”

“So you know where and when the ceremony is?”

“Yeah, Sabin let it slip. He’s driving me crazy. I wanted to know as little as possible, but he’s been trying to bait me the way you are. So stop saying words like ceremony and wedding.”