“Charley, somewhere deep down you know that’s not true.”

I shook my head. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel that way, that I don’t feel to blame, ashamed and guilty as hell.”

“And this is why you haven’t spoken to Andie? Because you feel like her accident was your fault to begin with?”

“That,” I drew in a deep breath, bracing myself to tell him the whole crazy truth, “and because there’s this sick, dark little part of me that resents her.”

Jake frowned. “Resents her? For what? For the way you feel?”

“No.” This time when our eyes met, I let all the love I felt for him shine out for the first time since before it all happened. I knew the instant he felt it because he froze and his eyes grew round with surprise and confusion. “I made a promise to God, Jake. I’m so sorry.” Tears started falling again.

“Charley, I don’t understand.” He reached for me, his thumbs swiping at the salty escapees.

“I promised God that if he saved Andie… I would give you up.”

Realization struck him and he looked like it had punched a mighty blow. “And then Andie woke up.”

I nodded. “I know it’s crazy. I know that it was probably a coincidence but I can’t get rid of this fear that if I let myself be with you, something bad will happen to Andie. And now I can’t be with you and I resent my sister for it. Which is outrageous and wrong. So I haven’t faced her. I haven’t faced the way I treated her or the way I’m still treating her. That’s not me, Jake.” I punched at the mattress below me in anger. “I’m not this coward. But that’s who I’ve become. A coward. I’m a coward, I can’t have you, and I can’t be a cop because my parents don’t want to go through what they just went through again. Where does that leave me? Who am I without my ability to act despite my fears, or be with you, or be the person I’m meant to be?”

Jake looked shaken. “Christ, Charley.” He shifted closer to me and put his arm around me, drawing me into his side. “I can’t believe you’ve been carrying this shit around for months without telling me. Without telling anyone.”

I hugged him close. “I love you,” I told him softly. “I love you so much. But I can’t be with you.”


San Francisco December 2013

The wind whipped my hair forward around my face as I stood on the bluffs by Baker Beach holding Jake’s hand.

Beck stood lower down on the rocks from us, Claudia at his side, as he stared out at the Pacific Ocean. He spoke, his words muffled by the wind. That was okay. Those words were for his dad’s ears alone.

After a little while, Beck let go of Claudia’s hand and removed the lid from the small lacquered box. Without a moment’s hesitation, he released the ashes and they caught in the wind as it blew out toward the ocean.

He wiped a tear from his cheek and Claudia wrapped her arm around his waist and drew him closer. He accepted her comfort, sliding his own arm around her shoulders and kissing her head in thanks.

Jake stroked my hand, drawing my attention from my friends to his face. He looked grim. Sad. Wary.

After my confession he didn’t tell me I was crazy for feeling the way I felt, but I sensed a new desperation in him and I feared that it was borne of him letting go of the hope that I would come around—that eventually we’d find our way back together again.

That I had given up hope was bad enough. Selfishly, I didn’t want Jake to.

I spent the night with him again, positive now that he understood there wasn’t more to it than me grasping at a last chance to soak in the temporary pleasure of being with him.

Jake leaned down to be heard over the wind. “Let’s leave them for a moment.”

I nodded and followed him back over the bluffs to where we’d parked the car up on Lincoln Boulevard. It was much warmer in San Francisco but it was windy off the water and I was glad to return to the car.

We were silent for a while, taking in the magnitude of what Beck was going through. I never wanted to be in a position to understand what he was dealing with. It was bad enough being distant with my father these last few months. I couldn’t imagine losing him completely.

“It all comes back to me walking away when I was seventeen,” Jake suddenly said, jolting me out of my thoughts.

Confused, I said, “What does?”

“Everything that’s happened to us. Brett’s death. Me breaking up with you. The shit we went through to find each other again only for your parents and sister not to forgive me like you did. You stopped talking to Andie because of it, Andie got in an accident, you blamed yourself, you made a pact with God and now have this irrational fear, irrational but real nonetheless, which means you’re afraid we can’t be together.” Jake shook his head. “I don’t believe that. I don’t believe that we have to keep being punished for what happened when we were kids. I don’t believe that the choices we both made to walk away from each other define us. I don’t believe that we can’t trust one another, and I don’t believe that we wouldn’t make it work a third time around. If you and Andie, if you and your parents, hadn’t fallen out before the accident, I’m one hundred percent sure you would have had me by your side during Andie’s coma. You would have let me in. I really believe that fate just got in the way of this one.” He grabbed my hand, his eyes imploring. “But really, we’re still kids, Charley. We’ve got so much to work out about ourselves and about life. Who says then that this is all we get? We’ve got a whole lifetime that we could use to make up for our past.”

Although my heart was pounding from his optimism, I found myself attempting to remind him of one glaring fact. “But Jake—”

“I know, I know. Your fear.” He sighed and sat back in his seat. “We can’t be together until you work it out, Charley. We can’t be together until you work it all out. Your sister, your parents, your career—you. Go home and face your sister, Supergirl.” He brought my hand to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss upon my knuckles. “Go home and find yourself. Take all the time you need. And when you’re done and if you still want me,” he gave me a sad, crooked, boyish smile, “come and find me.”

18

Chicago December 2013

There was a possibility I was going to upchuck all over my sister and Rick’s front stoop. It felt like one minute I’d been in San Francisco and the next I was in Beverly ready to face the firing squad.

It wasn’t a minute but it was only eight hours.

What Jake had said to me in the SUV was absolutely right. I’d known it was right for over five months but after my first semester in Edinburgh, I thought I finally had a grasp on who I was and where I was going. So to suddenly find myself lost was overwhelming. I hadn’t handled the uncertainty of what lay ahead for me. I’d let myself be changed by the cracks in what had always been a strong family bond and rather than face those changes, I’d run from them and all the reasons for their existence.

Perhaps if I’d confided in Jake sooner, I would’ve ended up on Andie’s doorstep months ago. Or perhaps I needed the time and distance from all the players in my story to find my way back to them. I guess I’d never know. And I knew I’d never know if Andie and I could find our way back if I didn’t knock on her door.

Claudia and Beck had been really understanding. Beck was coping with his own issues and I didn’t want to take anything away from that. The road trip was about him and I needed to let the three of them go so they could help him work that out. I was going to call my parents and ask them to book me a flight to Chicago from San Francisco, but Claudia insisted on using her parents’ credit card. I tried to say no. Our road trip had been funded by that credit card and I didn’t want to take advantage. Claudia said it was the only thing her parents were good for, so in the end, that—and my desire to hold onto my courage while I still had it—was the reason I accepted her help.

I got a taxi to the airport, leaving the three of them at the beach.

I couldn’t bear to say to goodbye to Jake in the airport… I didn’t know when or if I’d ever say hello to him again. We shared a look before I got in the taxi, his so hopeful and mine filled with regret. I’d treated him terribly these last few months and yet it hadn’t stopped him from trying to save me.

Suddenly my sister’s door flew open and there she was.

Beautiful and fresh-faced, Andie was standing upright and she looked healthy. Her expression, however, was blank. “Were you planning on knocking or are you holding out for a career as a porch ornament?”

Feeling breathless, I whispered, “Funny.”

Andie stood back from the doorway and made a gesture for me to come inside. “You’re only seven months late.”

I flinched but somehow managed to meet her eyes as I stepped inside her home for the first time since her accident. She shut the door and I waited for her to make the next move. The fact that I felt like a complete stranger in her house made me even more nauseated than before. Panic held me to the spot.

Andie eyed me for a second. Whatever she saw made the flatness in her eyes disappear. Concern shone through. “Don’t look at me like that,” she said. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out.

After a moment of intense scrutiny, Andie nodded. “I know. Come on.” She walked through her spacious entry hall and into the living room. “Rick’s at work.”

“Probably a good thing,” I muttered.

“Why’s that?” She flopped down into the armchair and I realized my parents’ reports on her recovery were true, and I’d missed all her hard work.

I shrugged as I lowered myself onto her couch. “I’m guessing he’s not too happy with me right now.”

Instead of yay or naying my suspicions, Andie just stared at me.

Forcing the nausea aside and trying to find the me who wouldn’t be intimidated, I kept my gaze steady on hers. “How have you been? How has the recovery been?”

“My recovery has been fine. I missed my own graduation and I was worried for a while that the job I had waiting for me was in jeopardy, but it all worked out.” She shrugged, barely giving me any emotion.

I narrowed my eyes. “Are you just telling me what you’ve been telling everyone else?”

“Well, what do you want to hear, Charley?” She narrowed her eyes right back at me. “That waking up from a fourteen-day coma was petrifying? That I had nightmares for months? That my fiancé worries every time I step outside the door? That I’ve developed a fear of yellow cabs? That I had to be emotionally and mentally evaluated and cleared before they’d let me start work? That all of this pales in comparison to the fact that nine months ago, my little sister stopped talking to me and I feel like I’ve been missing an arm ever since?”

I held her stare and let her anger and hurt flood into me like a tsunami. She deserved the chance to let me have it and I believed I deserved to take it.

* * *

“So are you going to say anything ever again?” Andie asked patiently. She glanced at the clock on the mantel above her fireplace. “It’s been ten minutes.”

I eased back against her sofa. “I’m trying to put the right words together to apologize but I can’t. There are no right words. I’m sorry we argued. I’m sorry I chose Jake over you. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you for weeks. And I am beyond sorry that I couldn’t get unstuck from the quagmire I’ve found myself in since Jake… and everything… I’m sorry I didn’t get unstuck and brave and face you. I’m sorry I didn’t help you get through this.”

* * *

Andie placed coffee on the table in front of me before sitting back down on the armchair, her own mug clasped in her hands. She curled her feet underneath her and took a sip.

I waited for her to say something.

I’d been waiting for twenty minutes.

“Are you going to say anything now?”

She cocked her head to the side to study me. “What would you like me to say?”

“I don’t know. Anything.”

“You’re lying.”

I almost rolled my eyes. She was using her therapist voice. I refrained and nodded. “Okay, I admit it. I want you to forgive me.”

* * *

Time seemed to move slowly as I waited for Andie’s reply. She made me wait while she sipped her coffee until there was nothing left to sip. I waited while she leaned forward to place her empty mug on the table before slowly sitting back.

“Does this lengthy silence mean it’s irreparable?”