by Ava Harrison
No more words are spoken. I melt into him and allow him to comfort me in front of Parker’s grave. I find comfort in his embrace, yet I can’t help but feel I’m betraying Parker. The one boy I ever loved died because I couldn’t take a chance. I fall deeper into Chases’ embrace. With his arms around me, the self-loathing lessens, even if only for a brief moment, and I welcome it. I welcome the feeling of him protecting me from the demons within me.
When we arrive at the gathering Parker’s family was having in his honor, my phone begins to ring in my purse. I’m in such a daze it doesn’t register that it’s my mother calling.
“Hello?”
“Aria Bennett, where are you?”
“Mom, I can’t talk right now,” I say through clenched teeth.
“Where have you been, young lady?
“I’m walking into a gath—”
“You’re such a disappointment. You were supposed—”
Before she can continue her disparaging line of thought, I hang up. I can’t do this right now. I can’t believe she can’t even give me peace today. I’ll call her back when I can handle the words she’ll throw at me. Right now I can’t.
“Be strong. I can see that you are about to fall apart, but I need you to be strong. Okay?”
Chase is right. No matter what my mother said, I need to hold my head up. I need to be strong and walk in that door. I shove the phone into my purse. It rings and I ignore it. Before stepping into the house, I pull a compact out of my purse. My cheeks are as pale as death. The only color comes from the rivulets of black bleeding from my eyes.
I follow Chase inside. Friends from his travels across the globe have come to pay their respects and come to honor and celebrate him. It’s the most beautiful and moving thing I’ve ever seen. I take a deep breath to calm down. I force my eyes to close, and static white noise hums around me. It’s jarring. As I open my eyes, time freezes. It stands completely still. Although the room is busy with people celebrating his life, I’m still stuck in a dark, awful place. It feels as if someone physically ripped my heart out of my chest, and they didn’t even have the decency to numb the spot.
I want everyone to stop living, too. But as I observe them gathering and remembering rather than mourning—laughing, reminiscing, telling stories, reliving adventures—I realize that for most, time has, in fact, gone on, and I’m jealous.
I walk past the guests and straight to the liquor cabinet. I numb the pain.
MY STEPS ARE UNSTEADY. The whiskey I downed right before leaving the gathering starts to affect me. I use the wall for stability as we make our way into my living room. Chase is trailing behind me. He reaches out slightly to catch me as I stumble.
“Aria.” His voice is tentative. “Are we going to talk about what happened?” I keep walking, not even acknowledging that he spoke. I don’t know what to say to him. The last few days he’s been my rock, even though it’s wrong to lean on him. Why can’t he just shut up? Then I can stay in this world of denial a while longer.
“Goddamn it, Aria, I just want you to talk to me,” he pleads, and it only succeeds in making me angrier.
“You want to do this? You want to do this now?” I brace the couch for support. The alcohol now coursing through my blood stream hinders my inhibitions. My eyes drift to the side, and we lock stares. “Fine. Let’s do this. I don’t understand you. You and your self-help crap, be a better person bullshit and for what? You. Are. A. Lie.” My words are loud, staccato. “Everything about you is a fucking lie! Was anything true? Because from what I can see,” I wave my hand haphazardly for emphasis, “You went against everything you ever said, everything you ever ‘preached,’” I say in air quotes, which makes me lose my footing. I turn toward the couch, reaching out my arms to steady myself.
“What do you want me to say, Chase?” I plop down and sit. “You want me to fight with you. Scream? What’s the point? For what? There’s nothing here.” I gesture between us. “Everything was built on a lie. You used me. Forced your way into my life, and for what? You know what, I don’t even fucking care about the reason. None of it matters.” I fist my hands in my hair. “And you know why? Because I’m a horrible person, Chase. I deserve it. I deserved all of it.”
“No, Aria. You aren’t. Why would you even say that?” He takes a step closer to the couch. His brows are drawn together.
“How can I say that? Because while he was in that bed dying, I was off, travelling through Italy with you.” My eyes flood with tears at my admission of guilt.
“You were living your life. You were doing exactly what Parker would have wanted you to do. And that was the best way to honor him.”
“How could I go? How could I be that horrible, that weak, and move on?”
“Letting someone go isn’t a sign of weakness. It’s the mark of strength.”
“What do you know?” I jump up and head to the side table with my decanter of whisky. Reaching for a tumbler glass, I pour the liquid then gulp it down in one swig. The harsh burn coats my throat.
“Let me in. Talk to me,” he pleads, but I will have none of it.
“We are defined by the choices we make. You chose to lie.”
“No, Aria. We are defined by our actions. You can choose something but act differently. I might have lied, but my actions told you how I felt.”
“No! Your actions told me nothing. The time for telling me was in Tuscany, when you first met me.”
“I was trying to help you, but instead I hurt you, and I’m sorry. If I could take it back, I would. If I could . . .” My body tenses as I wait for him to continue. His eyes remind me of a cloudy sky. “It’s not like you think. I didn’t go to Italy to deceive you.”
“Oh really? So you weren’t aware that I hated Everest. Parker never told you how I felt about you? Because I know that’s a lie. I know you talked about it. I know you knew.”
“Yeah, I knew. Is that what you want to hear? I knew you hated me. I knew you guys fought about me. Of course I knew. He was my best friend, Aria. But that doesn’t mean I meant to deceive you. I was planning to tell you who I was. That day in the hospital—I passed you. I saw you. I saw the pain in your eyes. I saw how broken you were.”
He breathes in and then exhales before continuing. “The next day this postcard came. And fuck if I knew I shouldn’t, but I read it, and you tore me apart, Aria. I was scheduled to go to Rome a few weeks later, but something inside of me snapped when I read your letter. I pushed up my shoot, changed my flight and went straight to Tuscany. I never meant to lie. I intended to tell you who I was. To tell you I read your card, to tell you he would never hate you and nothing was your fault. Then I saw your eyes and I couldn’t put any more pain there. God, I wanted to tell you so many times. But you don’t understand—you seemed alive. At first you were like a shell of the person Parker told me about, and then I just couldn’t be the one to take the gleam out of your eye. I’m so sorry, Aria. I should have told you.” He sighs and I let out a shaky breath as my chin trembles.
“None of this would have happened if I hadn’t fucked up.”
“Aria, you never put a bottle in his hand. You never made him drive that car. I should have been there that night. He should never have been driving. Jesus, Aria, if you want to blame anyone, blame me! I was staying at his place, but I felt restless in the city and needed to get away, so when he got into the accident, I was on my way to climb K2. I was fucking climbing and he tried calling me Aria, God —” He places his hand against his mouth to muffle the howl he could no longer hold back. His chest heaving as he tries to calm himself. “I—I had no service. When I finally got a connection, I heard about Park . . . I—I heard the drunken message he left me. I came home as fast as I could. It took weeks to get back down and then I still had to acclimatize myself before I was able to return home. Every moment I wasn’t there, a part of me died. But I couldn’t change anything. There was nothing I could do to stop this. Just like there was nothing you could have done differently.”
“You don’t understand . . . I—I told him I didn’t love him. Those were the last words he heard me say.”
“Aria. I know you feel guilty, but how can you possibly blame yourself?”
“Doesn’t matter what you think.”
“You need to forgive yourself.”
“Forgive myself? I killed my brother and then I killed my best friend.”
“You didn’t kill anyone.” All I could do was shake my head. He would never understand the burden I feel in my heart.
“I told him I didn’t want him. I lied. He went drinking because of me. He was leaving because of me.” My voice sounds as if I’m being strangled, and I fight to keep my composure. “I miss him every day, every second. I loved him, and he died never knowing.” Tears pool in my eyes.
“Aria, he knew. He felt it in every breath he took. He always knew, and he loved you enough to know you never meant anything you said.”
“How do you know?” I ask, silently begging for anything to believe.
“We talked about you all the time. He loved you, Aria. You were his world.” God, I wish he could just hold me in his arms and comfort me.
“Why couldn’t you have just told me the truth, Chase?”
“A part of me already cared about you, even before I met you. The way Parker spoke of you. The fire in your eyes in the pictures he showed me, your conviction, and your tenacity. Yeah, I knew it was wrong to mislead you, but how could I not? I was too far-gone to care. I couldn’t put any more pain in your eyes. The more I got to know you, I knew I had to say something, but I didn’t know how to tell you. I knew the moment I told you, you’d shut me out.”
“You should have.”
“Would you have stayed?”
“No.”
“Then no, I couldn’t. This trip has been monumental for you. You’ve learned and grown. How could I risk that? How could I risk not being there for you? I’m a selfish bastard, okay? Is that what you want me to say? Over the years and through all the stories I got to know you. My best friend’s girl. I needed to be there for you. Park would have wanted me to make sure you were okay. I knew I had to tell you, to come clean but I couldn’t. I was too scared to lose you . . .” His voice trails of you.
“This is too much.” The pain inside me is beyond anything I ever imagined. I want to bash my hands against his chest and beg him to turn back time. To not have been a fraud because I need him more than ever, but I don’t. I turn and walk toward my bedroom.
“Where are you going?”
“Away.”
“Aria.” I ignore him as my hand wraps around the cold stainless steel of the doorknob.
“I’m not invisible, Aria. Don’t walk away from me. God, Aria. I’m falling in love with you! Do you understand me? I’m. Falling. In. Love. With. You.” I drop my hand and turn to face him.
“You don’t love me.”
“How can you say that?”
“You couldn’t possibly love me. I can’t do this right now. I’m sorry, but I can’t.” My vision focuses on the floor. I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze.
“Please, Aria. I can’t stand the idea of not holding you. Please don’t push me away. I need you.”
“I can’t trust you.”
“I would rather tear my heart out than hurt you again.”
“You don’t have to worry about that. There’s nothing left for you to tear.”
“But—”
“Please go, Chase. Thank you for everything you have done for me, but right now I want to be alone.” I lift my head to look at him.
“Goddamn it, Aria, You’re everything to me! You might not believe that right now, but it’s true. I can’t lose you. I can’t.” His eyes close and he takes a deep breath. “I can wait. That’s what I’ll do . . . I’ll wait. You’re worth waiting for, Aria. Even after all the stars from the sky dim, I’ll still be waiting.”
I’m not worth it, but I don’t have the strength to object. Hell, I don’t have the strength to say anything at all. I simply turn back to the bedroom door and walk through.
“Goodbye, Princess.”
His voice electrifies the air around me, burning hot currents through my body from the pain in his voice.
I HAVEN’T LEFT THE apartment in five days. Five days that have blended together. I keep myself busy with endless hours of crime drama and then lying in a bed of tears. I don’t even know how to function in my world right now. I’ve pressed decline on so many calls, I should just disconnect my phone. I break out in a fit of giggles, swaying forward and losing my step. Imagine what Sophie would do if I turned off my phone. I lift the glass to my mouth and gulp the contents. Then I make my way back to the couch. My pajama pants hang low on my hips, so I grip them tightly to stop them from falling down. Have I lost weight? I can’t even remember the last time I ate. My head throbs from straining to think.
Last night I had a slice of pizza. Wait, was that last night? No, the sun was still out. I glance quickly over to the clock displayed on the TV. Five thirty-five. It’s been more than twenty-four hours. Holy shit, I haven’t eaten in twenty-four hours? A buzz comes from the intercom, and I stumble over to answer it. “Sophie is here to see you. Should I send her up?” Edward, the doorman, asks. Speak of the devil. Edward’s voice is tentative, and I know he’s waiting for me to say no. I think he’s starting to get worried about me, and rightly so. I’ve rejected all attempts to be visited. Both Sophie and Chase have tried to visit but every time Edward has buzzed, I’ve either ignored him or outright said no. I want to deny Sophie again, but if I do, she will just come back in a few hours. This has become her daily routine. It’s probably better if I let her see that I’m fine and then she can go on her merry way.
“Yes.” That’s all I say. Then I walk back to the counter, re-fill my tumbler, and take another long swig. I will need it to get through the conversation.
I hear a rapping at the door as my stomach growls. Stumbling over my feet, I feel empty and drained. My shaking hands crack the door.
“What are you doing here?” I say as Sophie pushes past me and lets herself in.
“Good to see you, too. I tried calling. I tried stopping by every—”
“I figured since I didn’t answer, since I told Edward no so many times, you’d understand I want to be alone.”
“It’s been days. Have you even showered? Oh my God, Aria, have you eaten?” She reaches her hand to me and touches my exposed collarbone peeking out from my camisole. The bone sticks out like a jagged rock.
“I’m fine.” I pull away from her and cross my arms in front of my chest to cover myself. This only makes her gasp again. The movement highlights exactly how skinny I’ve become. From this angle, my arms appear to be merely bones, and I brace myself for the comments I’m sure will ensue.
“You’re not fine.” Her eyes become glassy, as if she’s fighting back tears.
“If I wanted your opinion, I would have asked.” My forehead furrows. I’m fine. Why can’t she just leave me in peace?
“You look like a skeleton. Your hair is a mess.” I walk toward the other side of the room and grab my drink. My listless body plops down on the couch.
“Want one?” I point to the tumbler across the room. “Please feel free to barge in uninvited and have a drink with me.”
“Look at you. Look at what you’re becoming. Look at who you’re becoming! I know you lost him, but he would never have wanted you to become this.” With that, I stand up and move directly in front of her. My eyes narrow, and my disdain for her interference pours out of me. Why can’t she just let me be? Why does she have to bring him up? She didn’t lose Parker, I did.
“What the hell do you know?” I shout.
“What’s with your attitude?” A fine line appears between her brows.
“You won’t have a drink with me, and you can see I’m okay. Please feel free to show yourself out.” Her mouth opens and closes a few times before she shakes her head once.
“Every day sinc
e Parker passed, I see you becoming more and more like your mom. Like everything you hated. Every day you are less the girl I know—”
“You mean the girl Parker loved, the one who crushed him?”
“You think he would want you to be like this? He worked so hard to show you that you were more than Owen’s sister, that you were more than the shadow behind the ghost of your brother.”
“A lot of good that did him. I killed him, just like I killed Owen.” She steps toward me, placing her hand gently on my shoulder. Her eyes soften, fill with compassion.
“Don’t do this. It wasn’t like that,” she says, and I know she’s trying to make me feel better, to give me comfort, but I don’t deserve it, and it’s not true. None of what she says is true. It’s my fault. Everything is my fault. “I know Parker loved you, Aria. He would never want you to blame yourself.”
“But I crushed him. He never knew.”
“He knew.” But no matter how her words came out, no matter what she says, she knows nothing of how he felt, and her thinking she does makes the anger inside me simmer. It’s a heavy feeling that’s brimming to spill out.
“You know nothing at all. Nothing,” I snap. I’m finally done hearing her.
“Listen to me. He knew more about you than you know yourself. Don’t you think he died knowing that? He knew you loved him.”
“What the fuck does any of this matter? Who gives a crap what he died knowing? He’s still fucking gone. You hear me? He’s dead, so why the fuck does it matter? Nothing fucking matters. You know all that matters right now? That you’re ruining my buzz. So either drink with me, or get the fuck out!”
“Aria Bennett, I love you, but you’re a nasty drunk. I’m leaving before you say anything else that you can’t take back. Sober up and call me.” She slams the door behind her, and I crumple on the couch. The alcohol courses through my body, making my mind burn with memories so vivid I want to gouge my eyes out. I thought I could handle this. Fuck, I don’t know what I thought. I don’t know how to move past this. I’m not any closer to finding out. Every step I take forward, I somehow take two steps back.
