by S. Nelson
“I just want to go home.”
“Did I do something?” I couldn’t help but ask as nothing made sense right now.
“No,” she replied, shaking her head to emphasize her denial.
“Okay. I’ll take you home.”
“You can’t drive. You’ve been drinking.”
In my eagerness to comfort her, I’d momentarily disregarded that notion. “I’ll take the ride with you back to your house. I’ll stay with you in case you need me.”
She shook her head again, only this time it was because of her refusal. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” Her hand drifted toward mine, but before she made contact, she pulled back.
I couldn’t help the gut-wrenching feeling she was saying goodbye.
And not just for tonight.
37
Quinn
I lay in bed for two hours after coming home, continuing to try and wrap my head around what Grant told me at the bar. It couldn’t be true. I would much rather believe that he played some sort of sick and twisted game on me.
To believe that the man who had come rushing into my life, a man I neither prayed for nor wanted initially, a man who I’d fallen in love with, was now going to be ripped away from me all because of a selfish decision my brother made three years ago was impossible.
My heart twisted with agony over being angry with Jimmy, even while my sorrow at his passing reigned high. I’d processed my grief when he died, but now it seemed I had to start all over again. Only this time, my relationship with Nolan was the fatality.
We barely had any time together. It didn’t seem fair for this to be happening to me, and to him. He’d be devastated when he discovered the link between us, a link which would sever any ties we had to each other, all while cementing them closer than before.
Denial and anger had reared their ugly heads tonight, now all I had to do was wait to start bargaining with myself, with the universe, knowing my pleas wouldn’t do me a damn bit of good. Then I’d be left with depression and finally acceptance, which in my opinion was the hardest of all. The final stage of grief only served to fortify my approval for the situation, which I certainly never wanted to do.
As I stared at the ceiling, ignoring the incoming texts and calls from Nolan, I refused to look up the accident. Delusional or not, the second I read the first word of proof, I couldn’t live in the minuscule grain of hope it wasn’t real.
At some point, I’d passed out, heartbreak the most effective sedative. Hours later, I awoke on my side facing the window. It’d been dark outside when I succumbed to sleep, but now the sun peeked over the horizon, hues of gold and pink promising a beautiful day. But Mother Nature was a liar. There was nothing uplifting about the hours ahead for me. I didn’t know what I was going to do with the information I’d learned. I had to tell Nolan, of course I did, but how did I even start off a conversation like that?
Deciding to suppress those devastating thoughts, I threw the covers off me and continued to lie still. Concentrating on decelerating my breaths in an effort to slow time, which obviously didn’t work, only served to make my lungs work harder and faster. Halfway to convincing myself to get out of bed, my phone rang, the vibration of the device thumping against the nightstand matching the beat of the organ tucked behind my rib cage. The one organ I relied on to get me through life was nothing more than a vessel for me to detest now because it continued to splinter apart even as I lay here motionless.
Against my better judgment, or because of it, I couldn’t determine which yet, I swiped the screen.
“Hello.” My voice was groggy with sleep, as well as uncertainty.
“Hi. How are you feeling?”
“Not good.” I led him to believe I was physically ill when I was emotionally and mentally unwell, which given a short span of time, could make me physically sick if I allowed it to. “I think I came down with something.”
“I can bring you soup or medicine.”
“No,” I rushed to say. If I laid eyes on him before I could come to terms with everything, I’d crumble, and that wouldn’t be good for either of us. I had to figure out a way to process the news, accept it, then deliver it to him. “I don’t want to get you sick. I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t care if I get sick.”
“The good citizens of our city will care when you can’t protect them.” It took all my inner strength to lighten the tone of my voice, to act normal so he wouldn’t suspect I was hiding something from him. Besides, I realized how much he cared about his job. Using that knowledge was the best card I had to play.
“Only if you’re sure.”
“I am.”
“What about the news you got last night. Do you want to talk about it?” His words cut deep.
“No.”
“Okay. Just know that I’m—”
“I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.” I hung up on him without a proper goodbye, cutting him off when all he tried to do was be thoughtful. But I couldn’t listen to his voice and not feel the heartache all over again, as if it had ever disappeared from last night.
I stayed in bed for the rest of the day, only getting up to use the bathroom. As soon as I told Avery I didn’t feel well, she offered to bring me food but otherwise stayed clear of me, wanting to avoid getting sick herself. Little did she know what I suffered from would only attack the heart.
The following day was much of the same of me trying to sleep as much as I could just so I didn’t have to think about the situation I now found myself in, which was when to tell Nolan about our connection.
As the sun began to set, I knew it was time for me to finally verify what Grant told me. Avery had gone to the store and wouldn’t be back for a bit, so in case I cried or screamed or had one of a hundred different reactions, I’d be alone and not have to explain anything.
I planned on telling my sister, but not until I had more time to digest it. Until I found the strength, I couldn’t answer the many questions she was sure to have. Then again, what answers did I need, other than affirmation of what our cousin told me?
My laptop was in Avery’s room, hidden beneath a pile of clothing on her desk. The walk back to my bedroom was torture because I was that much closer to verifying what I already knew to be true. Sitting cross-legged on my bed, I opened the computer and logged on. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, my trepidation at typing my brother’s name weighing heavy on me. I’d done this search a month after he died, but I wasn’t sure if the same articles would be accessible three years later, and I had no intention of going down a rabbit hole to search for them. I was making excuses, I knew I was, but I wanted those few precious extra seconds to give me the courage I needed.
I selected each key slowly before hitting Enter, and there in front of me was the article I read a few years ago staring me back in the face. Reading every word again would be too painful now that there was a different reason to be looking at it, so I scanned each paragraph until I saw the names, solidifying the truth and my tragic connection to Nolan.
Pushing the laptop away from me, I stood on shaky legs and headed toward the bathroom, needing to wash away the fog of knowledge I’d gained over the past couple of days. Images of a time in my life I wanted to bury stared back at me from a computer screen, and I needed to forget, even if only for a short time under the spray of hot water.
Nothing could erase my memories of Nolan and me, or steal back the time we shared, but those memories were all I would ever have the second I told him. The water cascading over me disguised my tears, but the warmth couldn’t cloak the anguish inside me.
There was nothing more for me to do other than gain the nerve to tell him everything. Turning off the nozzle, I wrapped a towel around me and reentered my bedroom, startled when I saw him sitting there with the computer on his lap, his eyes glued to the screen as mine had been only minutes ago.
38
Quinn
I thought I had more time to prepare, but when he finally noticed me standing there, I r
ealized I couldn’t escape this any longer, even though I tried by distracting him with a question.
“What are you doing here?”
“You’re not answering my calls. I was worried, so I came to see how you were.”
“Avery let you in.”
“No. Your door was unlocked.” His chest began to rise and fall quicker than before. “What is this?” The column of his throat constricted when he swallowed. “Why are you looking at this?”
Was it possible he thought I was only curious about what happened to his family, therefore doing some research? I dismissed the thought as quickly as it entered because he never told me how his wife and daughter died, so that excuse wouldn’t fly, not that I’d lie to him in the first place.
“I have to… last night when I was talking with Grant… I… he told me… something I didn’t know. You have to believe me, Nolan. I. Didn’t. Know. If I had… oh God… I would’ve told you immediately.”
He stood, the laptop resting in his hands when he took a step toward me. “Tell me why you’re looking at this.”
“Please let me ex—”
“Why the FUCK is the article of my wife and daughter’s death on your goddamn computer?” His raised voice scared me. I’d never heard him shout before, so I wasn’t prepared for the shock of it.
“I wasn’t snooping.”
He ignored what I said and spoke again, his tone darker and more dangerous. “I never told you about the accident.” Another step closer closed the bridge of space between us. “Did Grant? Is that what you were talking about behind my back?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Yes, but not that.” I tightened the wrap of my towel.
“And you thought you’d find out all the gory details?”
“No. I needed to confirm it was true,” I blurted, wishing I could retract those words and offer different ones instead.
“If what was true?” A vein thickened on his neck, one I’d never seen before because I’d never witnessed him in such a state of anger and confusion. Without warning, Nolan twisted to the side and hurled my laptop at the wall, the thunderous sound making me jump back a step, my hand covering my mouth in pure shock. “If what’s true?” he yelled. He was on me before I could move again, his fingers painfully digging into my upper arms.
“My brother was the one…” I swallowed nervously, my mouth suddenly becoming incredibly dry. “He was the driver who killed your family.”
The voyage of my response seemed to take forever, but when they found their mark, it was a solid strike. No consolation came with the release of the truth. Instead, there was only unimaginable pain. For us both.
“You’re lying. Why are you lying?” He’d unknowingly repeated my words to Grant. If only I could tell him I was in fact lying, that this was some sick joke. I wished that were the case, but the reality was so much crueler.
Nolan shook me, towering over me and tightening his grip. His eyes darkened as he held mine steady in his gaze.
“I didn’t know.”
“But your brother’s name was Jimmy. The driver’s name was Cary.” He spoke more to himself than to me.
“Jimmy’s first name was Cary.” I didn’t go into why he went by his middle name. Instinct told me the less I spoke, the better.
He finally released me and took a step back. The ache in my arms bloomed as the blood rushed back in. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t either.”
The pull of his brows and the tic in his jaw alarmed me, but I continued to stand there, my feet frozen in place.
“When were you going to tell me? Were you going to tell me? Or did you plan on keeping this shit to yourself?”
“I was going to tell you. I just didn’t know how.”
“I guess you’re off the hook now.” His tone belied his expression, the flimsy and light curl to his words frightening me more than the anger. Nolan backed further away, his body language indicative he prepared to flee, pushing me to say something I’d been thinking but didn’t ever want to share with him because the words seemed insensitive.
“It’s not my fault. What happened to your family was not my fault. I didn’t know.” A single tear slipped down my cheek, followed by a stream of others. “I didn’t know,” I repeated.
His glassy gaze broke my heart, but it was the sudden indifference painted on his face that destroyed me.
He turned and left before I could link another string of words together, something that might’ve made him stay.
Avery found me on the floor crying a half hour later when she returned from the store, cleaning up the shattered pieces of my laptop while bombarding me with questions about what happened. Her shock at the truth was pale in comparison to mine.
But she wasn’t the one in love with Nolan.
She wasn’t the one whose heart ached every time it beat.
She wasn’t the one who’d lost everything.
39
Nolan
“After all this time of me struggling to survive, day to day, why did the one fucking woman who made me believe in hope again have to be related to him? Why?” I shouted, launching my drink at the farthest wall. The sound of glass breaking was like a balm to the soul, but when I raised my hand in the air to throw Will’s half-empty one, he snatched it from me.
“I don’t have an answer for you.”
“She’s his sister, Will.” If I kept up the pacing, I was going to have to replace this section of the carpet. “His fucking sister.” I gripped the back of my neck and dug my fingers into the muscle.
So many thoughts faded in and out, my brain working overtime, making it harder for me to muddle through all this the more I drank.
Every part of me ached, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I couldn’t change the past. I couldn’t sever this awful connection between Quinn and me. I was barely able to look at her once what she told me sunk in. Fuck, it was still sinking in, no matter how hard I resisted.
“How did you leave it?” he asked, standing to top off his drink. That was the amazing thing about my brother. He’d get just as drunk as me if I needed him to. No questions asked. I’d called him in a panic on the way home and he dropped everything and met me at my house, bringing reinforcements, aka scotch.
“What do you mean, how did I leave it? I got the hell out of there.” Hanging my head, I closed my eyes and took a breath. “I smashed her laptop. Probably should replace that.”
“Yup.” Something about his tone made me pick my head up. “This is a lot to take in, to absorb, and I can’t imagine how you felt when it first happened, but you didn’t do anything, right?” My deep-set frown prompted him to continue. “To her?”
“Like what?”
Will was tentative to elaborate at first. “Put your hands on her?”
“I’d never do that.” Then I remembered gripping her up at one point, but that wasn’t what he referred to. Nonetheless, there was a chance I might’ve left some bruises. “Um… I think I—”
“You think what?” he asked, cutting me off before I could finish speaking.
“I grabbed her by the arms, but that was it.”
“You do remember how small she is compared to you, right?”
“I know.” Shame at having put my hands on Quinn in anger rushed to the surface, overshadowing everything that happened, if only briefly. “I yelled at her and destroyed her computer. I probably scared her.”
“I wouldn’t say probably, Nolan.”
“So, what am I supposed to do now? I can’t ever see her again, but at the same time, I can’t imagine never being able to talk to her, or to touch her. I’m so messed up right now I don’t know which emotion is the right one. I can’t trust any thought that comes into my fucked-up head because they’re all contradictory.”
I stopped pacing and plopped down next to him on the couch.
“You don’t do anything right now. You take the time you need to process this. Don’t rush it. Don’t think about anyone but yoursel
f for the time being. If you don’t work through everything you’re thinking and feeling, you’ll be no good to anyone, especially her.” I opened my mouth to interject, but he kept speaking. “You don’t want to see her right now. I get it. But it’s not Quinn’s fault. You can’t blame her for what her brother did. She said she didn’t know until her cousin told her, right?” I nodded. “Do you believe her?” I took a moment to contemplate, but in the end, I nodded again. “I saw the way she looked at you that night. She’s in love with you, or at least on her way. I’m sure this is devastating for her too. In fact, I’d bet she’s feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt because of what her brother did.”
I couldn’t speak. Everything he just said hit home, but that didn’t make it any easier to digest. Not right now.
Will was right about one thing for sure.
I needed time.
40
Quinn
The last time I called off from work was when I had the flu two years ago; otherwise, I made sure not to miss any days that weren’t planned because people relied on me to do my job. But I couldn’t get out of bed this morning.
Paul had been concerned when I phoned him, telling me not to worry and get some rest. I hadn’t lied to him, per se. I told him I was sick, and I was, just not in the way he thought.
I’d gotten out of bed earlier to close the curtains. I didn’t deserve the sunlight streaming in, the expectation that a brand-new day would bring about hope. Hope for what, I had no idea because there was no way Nolan would ever want to see me again. Avery told me repeatedly this wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t to blame. I didn’t know; therefore, I didn’t hide anything from him. I wasn’t the one driving the car. I didn’t kill his family. But it felt like I was to blame, as if on some level I’d absorbed Jimmy’s tragic and reckless behavior as my own.
