“Really?”
His sad dark eyes devoured my face, like he was trying to memorize me. “Really.”
I tried to play it cool. But the pain rose up, almost as fresh as when he’d first walked out, and I spoke in spite of myself. “You left me! How can you say you aren’t over me when you’re the one who left? We could have been together!”
“I… I couldn’t handle that I’d almost killed you. I couldn’t trust myself to keep you safe.”
“What?” I gripped his shoulders. “Damn it, Walter! You didn’t almost kill me. My foot got stuck under a root, and the river almost killed me. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. The only thing I fault you for is walking away from me after I almost died. If you want to know how you almost killed me, that was how. I wanted to die for months after you dumped me.” My eyes welled up because that’s me—a mess of emotions at all times.
He covered my hands with his own and leaned his forehead against mine. “I’m sorry, Anthony. I’m sorry for hurting you so much. I was a fool, young and stupid, and I destroyed what we had, all because I thought….” He closed his eyes.
“You thought… what?”
Slowly, Walter started to talk, keeping his eyes shut the whole time. “I had a friend when I was little. Roland Hunter. He was my only friend because I was a weird kid who liked studying ants under microscopes instead of playing baseball. But he and I were like two peas in a pod. He’d come over to the house after school and on weekends, and we’d play. Sometimes we’d hike around, but he had really bad allergies and asthma, so he couldn’t go outdoors much or exert himself too much.”
“Mm-hm.” I was practically holding my breath. This was the most Walter had ever said to me in one go.
“One day….” He cleared his throat. “I persuaded him to go on a hike. It was the first sunny day after a week of rain, and we were both antsy. We hiked farther than usual, and he had an asthma attack. The rain must have brought out something he was deadly allergic to. He’d forgotten to bring his inhaler, and it was before cell phones were common. I needed to run get help, but he begged me not to leave him.”
“Oh my God, Walter.”
“He died in my arms.”
Long silence, during which I felt incapable of anything but stroking the back of his neck and murmuring, “My dear. My poor dear.”
Walter finally heaved a giant sigh and opened his eyes. We pulled our foreheads apart to look at each other. “I’ve always blamed myself for his death. If I hadn’t persuaded him to go on a hike. If I’d reminded him to bring his inhaler. If I’d run for help, maybe he’d have survived.”
“But you were… how old?”
“Ten.”
“Ten! You were just a kid. How could you be to blame?”
“His parents…. Mom took me to the funeral, and they looked at me like I’d killed him. I think I did.”
“No!”
Walter plowed on. “So when something similar happened with you….”
“Similar? How was it similar?”
“I persuaded you to go swimming in the river. Remember? You didn’t want to go. And then when you were drowning and clutching at me, I… I couldn’t leave you, but you were going to die.”
Walter’s eyes were wild and unseeing, so lost was he in his memories.
“But it wasn’t similar at all! I didn’t die, and that was because of you. You saved me. You must have, because I woke up in the hospital, and I sure as hell didn’t get myself there.”
“You almost drowned. Because of me.”
“But I didn’t!” I could hear my voice rising in frustration, so I took a breath. “Is this why you ran away? You think you’re to blame for hurting me?”
He gave a tight nod. “I hurt people. I don’t mean to. But Roland died, you almost died… everyone I ever care about ends up hurt.”
“That’s ridiculous. I mean, I understand about Roland and how awful that had to be for you. But me? I bounced right back. And we’re talking about twelve years ago now.”
“No. The Adrian thing happened just six years ago.”
“What Adrian thing? Who’s Adrian?”
“He was my coworker at Triton Pharmaceuticals.” Walter’s face twisted with pain. Clearly, this Adrian had meant a lot to him.
“The company you went to work for after MIT?” I prompted, after Walter fell into a dark silence.
“Yeah.”
I sat down on the sand and patted the spot next to me. “Take a load off and tell me about Adrian.”
Walter sat, and I took his hand and squeezed it. The moon sparkled like a benediction while the waves continued their ceaseless motion. I was so glad we were talking. Even though this was a heavy conversation, my heart was lighter than it had been in a long time.
Gazing at the moonlight’s silvery path, I repeated, “Tell me about Adrian.”
“We got hired at Triton on the same day, right out of grad school. We were… our minds kind of were similar, and we began collaborating on an ongoing drug trial.”
I nodded, letting Walter’s deep voice wash over me, wanting nothing more than to curl up beside him and have him tell me stories for the rest of our lives. “Uh-huh.”
“We were going to change the world, Adrian and me. Triton was developing drugs based on genome theory that had the potential to reverse the aging process. Or so we thought.”
The tinge of pain in those last four words made me sit up straighter and turn toward him. “What happened?”
Walter heaved a deep sigh. “Adrian was…. He reminded me a lot of you, actually. Enthusiastic. Quick mind. Lively.”
My preening died at his next words.
“And impatient. He wanted to see results right away, or he’d get bored.”
“What? I mean, I see the quick and lively part, but impatient? My God, how could you think that of me?”
Walter gazed at me, oh so patiently, until it dawned on me that impatience was the air I breathed. I called it other things—ditzyness or ADD—but the truth was I wanted life to be entertaining, or that shit wasn’t happening and I was moving on to the next thing.
“Um, okay. Forget about me. What happened with Adrian?”
“We’d been brought in to work on this age-reversal drug that had been in development for years. The original researchers had retired except for one guy who oversaw our work. Adrian and I were excited to get to run the project. After we worked on it for a year, it was finally moving out of the animal testing stage. It wasn’t quite ready for human trials, but it was getting there!” He said this like he was still arguing with Adrian on that. “Adrian thought it was taking way too long. He wanted to start human testing—he was positive this drug was not only ready but was going to be the next penicillin or polio vaccine, and soon everyone would be on it.”
“Were you lovers?” Jeez Louise, what on earth did I say that for? I clamped my lips shut, praying for the ability to sink under the sand.
Walter wasn’t helping—he looked at me like I had sprouted an extra head. Finally he spoke. “No. He was a friend, the only person besides Roland and you who understood me, who I felt that close to. But we weren’t lovers.”
I twitched, assimilating the fact that all evidence pointed to me being the only lover Walter had ever had. No. Wait. He’d had his college years, and then the time since he’d moved to Key West. But something told me Walter wasn’t the type for casual sex. And why the fricking frack was I thinking about that right now, when Walter was spilling his guts about some tragedy? I cursed myself for being the shallowest asshole alive.
“Sorry. That—that’s irrelevant, and I’m sorry I asked. Please. Go on.”
After another excruciating moment, Walter continued. “Um, so Adrian was impatient. And I was always having to keep him from being too reckless, from cutting corners and trying to force the outcome. It was the Christmas holidays six years ago. Most of the staff had taken off work, which was delaying our progress. Adrian and I had been working day and night
on the prototype, and we had one, but it wasn’t yet ready to test. We were waiting for certain staff to come back and do the final quality control on it.” He ground to a halt, inhaled, turned his face to the sea. “What I didn’t know was Adrian hadn’t waited. He’d been secretly taking the drug, conducting his own trial.” Another pause while I waited with an awful certainty. “It killed him.”
Even though I’d been expecting this particular outcome to the story, I still gasped. “He died from the drug you all were developing? Ohmigod, that’s tragic!”
Walter simply nodded.
“Is that why you left Boston?”
He nodded again. “It was… I couldn’t keep working there.”
“They fired you?” I drew myself up, full of umbrage.
“No. They did an internal review and absolved me of blame. No, it was me. I couldn’t stand to keep working at the lab. Too many memories. Also, I couldn’t trust myself with developing new wonder drugs anymore. I didn’t want to hurt or kill anyone else.”
“You… you don’t blame yourself for Adrian’s death?” But Walter’s pained face confirmed what I feared. The lunkhead. “Why, love? It wasn’t you!”
“I could have stopped him. I should have. I should have asked him more questions, especially when he started to have physical symptoms. I should have been someone he could trust to tell the truth. Maybe then I could’ve talked him out of it.”
“Walter. Doll. Stop it with the shoulda, woulda, coulda. It’s not your fault! Adrian did what he did, and nothing you could have done would have stopped him. Even if you did find out and talk to him, do you think you would have changed his mind? If he was as much like me as you say, I doubt it.”
He bit his lip so hard I thought he’d draw blood. “I might have been able to stop him. At least I’d have been able to get him medical attention.” He cast a despairing glance at the sea.
I wasn’t a psychiatrist. Or a priest. I had no earthly idea how to help Walter get over his knuckleheaded notions about hurting the people he loved. But his pattern was clear—care for someone, they get hurt or die, run away. Best not to try to untangle that emotional knot right now. As for me, I was just relieved that I wasn’t the reason Walter had run away. The fear that there was something essentially unlovable about me had simmered under my carefree exterior since I was seventeen. With a few words about never getting over me, Walter had restored me to a sense of being someone worthy of love.
“Walter,” I said lightly, “I’m so glad you told me all that. You’re such a good man, of course these tragedies would weigh on you. It helps me understand why you get so protective of me. I… well, I love that about you even though it makes me want to scream sometimes. And the thing about never getting over me? It took me seeing you again, but I have to confess I’m having the same problem. About you.” I watched his face as he computed that.
“Oh.” He shifted closer to me and took one of my hands. “What do we do now?”
It was so endearing that he was asking me for the answer! I laughed. “I have no earthly idea. What about seeing where things take us? Holding hands is a good start.”
He smiled uncertainly. “Okay.”
“Let’s look at the ocean for a bit.”
We gazed at the waves. After some time, Walter said, “I wish I’d never left you, Anthony.”
“I know.” I shifted restlessly, not wanting to dwell on all the time we’d lost. “Can we stop trying to figure out the past? How about let’s live in the moment—this fabulous moment with us together, sitting on the beach under the stars?”
“Okay. I can do that.” The wind had been picking up steadily, and when I shivered, Walter moved closer and put his arm around me. “Cold?”
Hearing him say that in his gravelly voice ensured I was quite warm in certain places. I snuggled right in and laid my head where it belonged—on his strong shoulder. Ahhhh. “Not now.” The huskiness of my voice would have clued him in even if I hadn’t put my hand on his thigh.
He stroked my arm, encircling it with his huge hand and rubbing up and down in a somewhat erratic rhythm. When my hand traveled farther up his thigh, brushing against the prominent bulge in his shorts, he emitted a strangled sound and gently grabbed my chin, turning my face to his.
My lips parted. I was all in. Fuck. Every cell and neuron and the rest of my particles were on high alert, yearning toward him.
He kissed me. How to describe the first goddamn kiss between Walter and me in twelve years? His lips—they were generous, familiar and yet not. They felt incredible, even though he was kissing me carefully, like I was made of fine porcelain. The hell with being careful—I kissed him passionately, like he was an essential nutrient that I was dying for the lack of. And God, he was. I was. As soon as I tasted him and smelled his Walter smell, felt the rasp of his five o’clock shadow, heard his low choked-off sounds, I was home. So I grabbed him and made sure he knew it.
We kissed deeply, fervently, and tears came to my eyes. I was done for. I wasn’t just hung up on him. Let’s be real—I was still in love and loving him desperately, even when it made no sense. We fell from our sitting position to lying on the sand, lips fused together, tongues dancing. Did I care that we were putting on a show right in front of anyone who might be sitting on the fancy condo balcony? Not at all. The threatening hurricane could have arrived without breaking our total concentration on each other, on our bodies coming together.
What happened next? I wish I could say I was swept away and the waves crashed over us as we continued to kiss, like in that Deborah Kerr movie whose name escapes me at the moment. But I wasn’t particularly fond of sand. Sand trickling into my hair and pants didn’t contribute to amazing sex in my opinion. And it was getting freaking windy out—half my shivering was from being cold rather than from Walter’s hot kisses.
I sat up. “Can we go to your place or something? I’m freezing my ass off out here. Oops!” I clapped my hand over my mouth for a moment. “That wasn’t very romantic, was it?”
He laughed. One thing I’d forgotten was how amusing Walter had always found me, no matter what inane or outrageous thing I said or did. God, how I loved making him laugh.
“Sure.” He got up and pulled me to my feet. “Let’s go.” His arm around my back, he steered me through the gate and onto the sidewalk.
I thought about Miles for the first time in an hour. “Um, will it be weird if… you know?” So articulate.
Walter tilted his head toward me. “If what?”
“You know. If Miles is there?”
“Oh.” He smiled that great smile again. “I’m not taking you to the apartment.”
“Oh?”
“You’ll see. It’s somewhere a little more private.”
I snuggled into his side, loving the feeling of being taken care of once again by my guy Walter. He could take me anywhere he wanted to go.
Chapter TWELVE
“HOW DO you feel about bike riding?”
I stared. “What on earth?”
Walter had led me through the dark streets, charming with their lush foliage and stately houses, until we’d arrived at a cool-looking apartment building.
“Oh, I usually cycle to my other place. It takes about seven minutes, tops. I’ve got an extra bike.”
I had to laugh at Walter’s assumption that I’d hop on a bike right after our passionate encounter on the beach. “That’s lovely, but could we possibly drive? I haven’t been on a bike in years.”
“Oh, sure. Come this way.”
I was expecting the sports car, but Walter put me into a Subaru and drove us a short distance, then pulled into a marina parking lot.
“Really?” I asked as we got out. “This is promising!”
He smiled mysteriously and took me along a dark pier and onto the deck of a houseboat.
“Oh,” I breathed. “Aren’t you full of surprises? How many boats do you own, anyway?”
“A few.”
Modest as ever. He seemed to have a fl
eet—catamarans, motorboats, and now this floating thing—more house than boat, from the looks of it.
He unlocked the door, and I followed him inside. It was cozy and neat as a pin, the cabinets and furniture all fitting into the space in ingenious ways.
“I love it!” I walked around examining things. “Do you live here? What about the apartment?”
“I’m here about a third of the time, when I need to get away. The apartment is more centrally located, so when I’m working I tend to stay there.”
I picked up a large conch shell and studied its delicate pink interior. “Did you find this? I thought these were hard to find.”
He seemed pleased that I’d singled it out. “They generally are. But I found that shell on the beach the first week I was in Key West. I’d just decided to stay, and I took finding it as a sign that I’d made the right decision.”
I goggled at him. “Why, Walter Elkins, that’s downright poetic of you!”
He shrugged but smiled too. “I call this my Life 2.0, and the shell reminds me of that when I forget.”
“Life 2.0? I love that! That’s inspiring! Maybe I’ll create a Life 2.0 of my own.”
“I recommend it.” Walter went to the galley and pulled out a bottle of red wine. “Some Cabernet?” A gust of wind howled outside, setting the houseboat to gently rocking.
I put down the shell. “You know, doll, I don’t usually say this, but I think I’ve had enough alcohol tonight.” I dipped my eyelashes and fluttered them at him, stopping abruptly because I felt ridiculous.
“Okay.”
Then my eyes lit on something pinned to his refrigerator by a magnet. “Is that my sketch?” It was the drawing I’d made of him and Melissa in the coffeehouse.
He gave me an adorable little smile. “I liked it. I love your talent.”
“Oh my goodness, I… thanks, doll. You don’t know how much that means to me.”
“You’re welcome.” After a pause, he walked over and put his hand on the back of my neck. “Let me show you the bedroom.” His voice was lower than ever.
I immediately succumbed to his grip, leaning into it as I gazed into his eyes. “Your wish is my command, babe.”
In Over Our Heads Page 13