Since Ethan died I’ve been sleeping on tear soaked pillows. My pain and suffering for my best friend, my soul mate, had only just begun to lessen. Nick brought the sun back into my life, but it was nowhere near illuminating my entire sky.
I’d cast Ethan as the perfect white knight and me as the black-robed villain, willing to hurt him because I couldn’t stand the thought of letting him go.
But Ethan lied to me.
How many times had I talked to him on the phone? Through email? How many lies had he told? How many stories were edited for my ears? He spent seven months in Germany with his weekends free. Weekends he said he spent with Nick. And Emelie.
Salty tears sting my eyes. My Ethan. My selfless, amazing, beautiful Ethan. He’d been perfect in my eyes, far closer than I could ever get. Never once did I doubt his loyalty, his dogged determination to make me his.
Emotions flow through me, ephemeral but strong. Hurt, betrayal, anger, agony, embarrassment, disappointment. How could Ethan lie to me? He was flawless, the consummate man. Apparently his patience, which I’d viewed as enduring and immeasurable, was limited.
“Kate?” Nick’s voice is soft, tentative. It brings me back from all the thoughts banging around in my head. He reaches for me. I’m just out of his reach, and I don’t close the distance.
“I want to go home,” I tell him.
We start for my apartment. Our unevenly matched footfalls are the only sound.
But not in my head. Not in my heart.
The inside of me is a tornado, an earthquake, a wildfire. My emotions thrash, my foundation shakes, and the heat of my temper rages on.
Fervently I wish for a time, just twenty minutes ago, when I didn’t know all this.
We arrive at my apartment, and Nick pulls me into him briefly, one small hug, and lets me go. He points to my apartment, and I turn and walk up. At the landing I look back and see he's still standing there, arms crossed. He gives me a wave and I go inside.
***
Last night’s events fill my mind the instant my eyes open. No birds chirping, no leisurely stretch. Just immediate dark thoughts of my roommate who’s gossiping about me, the person I hit in the face at a work event, and Emelie.
I can’t do anything about Emelie or Trent. But Harper is a different story. I'm sick of being her punching bag.
I get out of bed and change. My limbs feel strong, solid, full of power. I’m pissed off.
Harper's not in her room or anywhere in the rest of my apartment. She’ll have to come home sometime. While I wait for her, I organize the pantry. All of Harper’s food gets pushed to the right. That’ll make it easy for her to pack.
After that’s done I move on to the fridge. The garbage fills up with outdated food.
Finally I hear her key in the lock. I hop up on the counter. She’ll have to see me when she walks past the kitchen.
And she does.
Her hand flies to her chest. “Jesus, Kate. You scared me.”
“Long night?” I raise my eyebrows. The rest of my face doesn’t change.
“The night was great after I did damage control from your drunken scene.” She glares at me pointedly. “What were you thinking?”
Yesterday I would have lowered my head and felt embarrassed. Not anymore. No more people pleaser.
“I wasn’t drunk,” I say through gritted teeth.
Harper's eyes widen. “You hit Trent while you were completely sober?” She brings a hand to her forehead, pushing back her hair. “He said he wouldn’t press charges because you were drunk.”
“Well, then, I was drunk.”
Harper narrows her eyes. “What did you do for the rest of the night? After you caused a scene?”
“We need to talk about—”
“You left with my date. Thanks for that.” Her upper lip snarls on the last word.
I wave aside her words. “I’m not interested in talking about that right now. I saw—”
“Why are you friends with Nick?”
“He was Ethan’s friend. He was grandfathered in. Now stop interrupting me. I saw—”
Her hands go to her hips. “Do you think Ethan would appreciate it becoming more than friends?”
I sigh. “This again? Nobody said that was happening.”
“I’m just saying.” She holds her hands up like she’s some kind of innocent. That could not be further from the truth. “Kate, you’re missing what’s right before your eyes. You’ve been a zombie for months and—”
“You’d be a zombie too, if you lost the love of your life.”
Harper rolls her eyes. “Here we go again.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I hop off the counter. My feet stay rooted to my landing spot.
“You are what’s wrong with me.” She jabs a fingernail in the space between us. “You’ve been moping around here for months, drinking like a fish and sleeping more than a dead person. Where did my roommate go?”
“Your roommate has been in hell. Her own personal hell.”
“You’re taking too long to come back from it.”
I'm not even angry anymore. I'm astounded. “It’s ludicrous you think you have a right to an opinion about my grief process.”
“If I have to live with you, I get an opinion.”
I take a long, slow breath. Fluid fills my ears when my teeth clench. “You’re not the only one wondering where her roommate went. You were never sensitive or very caring. But you could at least understand, and tolerate, basic human emotions. Since Ethan died, you’ve acted like my tears are made of stomach acid. Why are you so terrified of my grief?”
“Because it’s been going on and on for months.” She gestures with two hands on either side of her head. “We get it, Ethan died. It was terrible. Poor Kate. Now it’s time for you to pick up and move on. I want my normal roommate back.”
I will never be normal again. There will never be a moment, not for the rest of my life, where I won’t remember what I lost. At the core, that is our problem. Harper believes I should go back to normal because she’s never cared enough about a person to be devastated by their loss.
“As soon as times got tough, you turned on me. I needed a friend, not a judge.” I lean forward, maintaining eye contact. “You aren’t my friend. You’ve made that abundantly clear. And you’re no longer my roommate. I want you out of my apartment.”
Her mouth forms an astonished O. Her tongue moves like she wants to speak, but she can’t form a sentence.
I wish I had a camera. Someone has finally stunned the sharp-tongued, quick-witted Harper into silence. And it’s me, her demure sidekick, whom she pushed too far.
I walk to my room and shut the door, leaving Harper and her stunned face behind.
31
Kate
I don’t know what Harper’s doing in the rest of my apartment, but she’s being loud.
When I told her to move out I didn't think she'd start immediately. Within an hour of shutting my bedroom door I heard cardboard boxes folding, the screech of tape rolling out of a dispenser, drawers and cabinets closing with just a little too much force. I’m trying to concentrate on the words in a book I’ve already read, but the sounds of the front door opening and closing, over and over, make it difficult.
The part of me that likes to please people and live a life free of bumps wants to go out there and smooth things over. The other part of me knows this needs to happen, even if it’s ugly and makes her upset with me.
When Sarah texts to ask me to get dinner tonight, I can’t accept fast enough. Whatever takes me away from this place, I’ll do.
Now there’s a new sound beyond my door… Voices.
I go to the door and listen to the muffled conversation. Harper’s, and then a male voice. Why is Nick here?
My hands cup the ear I have pressed against the door.
“Harper, what are you doing?” He sounds mystified.
“Baking a freaking cake.” I hear a thud. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Okay, I'll try a different question. Why are you moving out?” Nick’s voice sounds irritated.
“Your girlfriend kicked me out.” Her tone is challenging.
“Why?”
“Because I pushed her too hard. Because she likes you better than me right now. Because you let her be a baby and hang on to Ethan’s memory like a life preserver.” Another thud, the sound of a box sliding across the floor. “By the way, thanks for leaving me alone last night. Again. The second Kate did her damsel in distress hits a dude routine, you were rushing in to save her.”
“Do you hear yourself?”
“Last time I checked, I'm not deaf.”
“You might as well be. I thought Kate was your friend. Try putting yourself in her shoes. How would you handle the situation she’s in?”
“With more dignity than Kate. She has been moping around for months, pining for a man who isn’t alive anymore. I care enough about her to kick her in the ass and get her back into life.”
“That’s not at all what she needs.” Nick’s voice rises.
“Excuse me, newcomer, are you telling me that you know what she needs? You’ve known Kate for five seconds. All of a sudden you’re her new best friend? You know her better than I do? Everyone was feeling so sad for poor Kate. How devastating, Kate must be beside herself. Poor Kate, poor Kate. I simply suggested it was time she get ahold of herself and re-enter the world.”
“You sound jealous.”
Harper makes a noise, almost like a choke. “And just what do I have to be jealous of?”
“The attention Kate was getting. You just said it yourself. Everyone was feeling bad for Kate, so you decided the only way to get their attention off Kate was to have her move on.”
I hear another box move across the floor, then two more.
“What you said just now is so absurd that I’m not even going to respond to it. Just know this. I saw Kate when she came home from your apartment. She looked happy, or at least not totally devastated, for the first time since Ethan died. She won’t admit it, but it’s you who made her feel that way. If you care about her at all, don’t try to be anything more than a friend to her.”
It falls quiet, the only sound a jingling of keys, then a clink. “Tell Kate I left my key,” Harper says. “It’s my only copy.”
The door closes hard. Discussion over.
She’s gone? Just like that? If I’d known she was really leaving, I would have at least said goodbye. Nearly four years of memories, but only the last five months were bad. I’m mad and disappointed in her, but I’m sad too.
A light knock on my door startles me. I jump back and open it.
“What are the chances you heard that entire exchange?” Nick’s smile is bemused.
I blush, embarrassed to admit I was listening in. “High,” I concede.
His head falls back as he laughs soundlessly.
“So, you finally sent the Wicked Witch of the West packing?”
“Nick!”
My disapproval is out of habit. Actually, it’s not a bad name for her. “I take it you weren’t Harper’s biggest fan.”
“I didn’t like how she talked to you.”
“She’s always been self-centered, and I never cared. But ever since Ethan died, she began failing miserably in the friend category.”
I lead the way out of my room and walk into Harper’s open bedroom door. The heaviest of all her furniture is still here. I pull open a dresser drawer. Empty. I open two more. Empty and empty. I didn’t think she’d move out in a matter of hours. “I wonder when she’ll get the rest of her things. And where she went.” One of her sisters? Her mother’s? I look at Nick. “Why are you here, by the way? I don’t think it was to field Harper’s wrath.”
His eyes crinkle at the edges as they gaze intently upon my face. “I thought you might want to talk.”
“What about? Harper? Trent?” My fingers dig circles into my temples as the most painful name of all teeters on the tip of my tongue. “Emelie?” Her name feels like a dirty word.
I want to hide the Emelie revelation under a rock and pretend she doesn’t exist. I can’t handle it. I feel like I’m going to break. This is all too much.
Nick’s expression is pained. “Please don’t let what I told you last night make you feel differently about Ethan. He loved you with every cell in his body. He thought you were absolutely perfect.”
My hands drop from my head. “I’m so far from it.”
“You’re definitely not perfect. You are beyond Type A. You have zero fun. It’s like you’re waiting for someone to hand you a roadmap so you can follow it. You have no idea what to do next.”
“You really know how to make a girl feel good about herself.” I leave Harper's room and sit on the couch. My body sinks into the cushions, and my head tilts back.
Nick leans over me, his hands gripping the back edge of the couch. Just like the night in his apartment, his face is too close.
When I look into his blue eyes, I see flecks of gray. He has a faint scar on his jaw, next to his ear. It's shaped a lot like the one on my forehead.
Nick’s expression is so earnest I stop noticing details about his face and listen to his words.
“You’re funny. At least, I think so. And when you smile, which is rare, your eyes crinkle on the edges. You can cook like a professional chef. Last night I learned you’re a fast runner, even in a dress. And you’re intelligent.” His mouth twists into an ironic smile. “You’re not perfect. But you’re a whole lot of other great things.”
As usual, I blush.
“Oh, yeah. And you blush pretty much on command. It helps me read you.”
“What am I thinking right now?” I flip over on the couch and stand on my knees so I'm facing him, the couch cushions supporting my front body.
“You’re wondering why I’m saying all these things.”
“True.”
“I’m saying them because you need to hear them. You need someone to believe in you. Someone who doesn’t expect you to be the Master of Everything.” He rolls his eyes. “Can you please just be Kate?”
I bite my lip, my uncertainty spilling out. “I don’t know who Kate is anymore.”
“That’s okay. You don’t have to know. Just be.”
My lip trembles. I can’t help it. He's being so kind.
Nick leans over further and pulls me into him. His chin rests on the crown of my head.
“You can cry if you need to.”
“I don’t know if I need to. I don’t know if I should.”
“That’s okay too.”
I push off his chest and get off the couch, standing so we’re face to face. “I’m so confused. There are things happening inside me, and I don’t want them to happen, but I feel like I can’t stop them.” My hands cross over my heart. “I’m feeling again, Nick. I’m cooking and I’m smiling and last night you made me laugh and I pictured my laughter as bubbles of happiness. Five months ago I wanted to die. And now I’m smiling? How is this possible?”
He watches me. No answer. I don’t need one.
“And I’m pretty sure you’ve single-handedly saved me from myself. And Harper’s been annoyingly insistent about you being more than a friend. Which obviously is ridiculous because this is just a friendship. We're grieving partners. I mean, come on.”
Nick is silent, still. His eyes don’t leave mine.
“Is that how you feel?” He regards me with that even, steady gaze of his. It's the same gaze that tells me it's okay to cry, to grieve, to let the sadness out.
“Isn’t that how you feel?” My tone is as unsteady as my heartbeats.
He stares at me for a long moment, then nods.
Thank God. Because if he didn’t…
I’m not going there.
“You can add crazy to my list of cons.”
“I’ll make sure to do that.” He pulls his keys from his pocket. “I have to get going. I'll see you later. If you want to talk about…you know, Emelie�
� Just call me.” He walks to the front door.
“Goodbye,” I say to his retreating back.
I want to text him and ask why he left in such a hurry, but I’m terrified of the answer.
***
“So, you just kicked her out?” Sarah asks.
I nod. We've been playing twenty questions since we sat down at the restaurant. It’s a Mediterranean place, not my pick. The hummus is delicious though. Sarah uses the straw to stir her iced tea. “That totally doesn’t sound like you.”
“She’s been the opposite of a friend for a long time. Since Ethan died, pretty much. I mean, she was there for me right after he died. She made me shower and she tried to get me to eat. But it was like she gave me a week to grieve and then expected me to move on. And the longer I took, the more disgusted she became with my feelings.” I pause to take a bite of my salad. “It was so weird. She’s never been much of a touchy-feely person, but this was heartless on a whole new level.” As I say it I feel the sting of Harper’s behavior, but it’s not totally unwelcome. It’s keeping me from falling apart over Emelie.
“I’m sorry.” Sarah squeezes my arm. “First you lost Ethan, and now Harper. You still have me.”
“And Nick,” I add.
“That’s my next question. Who is Nick to you? I thought he was just Harper’s date but then he jumped in and dragged you away.”
How have I not told her about Nick? I’ve been friends with him for months. What is wrong with me? You were a zombie. Just like Harper said.
“Nick was in the Army with Ethan. They were basically inseparable. He was discharged and moved here the week Ethan was killed, and we met at Ethan's funeral. He’s been amazing and kind and totally unafraid of my brokenness.”
“So you’ve been helping each other get through the passing of your mutual best friend? If life were like a movie, you would fall in love with Nick now.”
I groan. “You’re such a romantic.”
“When do great guys just fall into your lap? Never. Trust me.”
The Day He Went Away Page 24