“I know,” he nodded. “I know that now. I put myself in a dark place. If I could take it all back, I would. I want those months back, Kristen. I know I can’t have them, but I want…I mean if you want…” He swallowed, looking at my hand. “What I’m trying to say is that I want you. I want to make all this right.”
My heart was pounding in my chest. He wanted to make this right, but on his terms—after all he’d put me through, how he’d hurt me. I needed time to process this. I needed to understand what I felt, what I really felt. Not the feelings his presence was pulling out of me.
He was looking at me now, waiting for my response. His eyes were hopeful, pleading with me for understanding, forgiveness. I couldn’t be weak here. I had to be strong, make the decision that I was completely sure of.
“I can’t,” I said, a whisper. He made a sound in his throat, like a sob he held in. Needing just a tiny bit of affection from him, I selfishly grabbed his hand. If I decided that I couldn’t do this again, it would send the wrong signal, but…I just needed it.
Immediately, our hands intertwined—fingers wrapping, squeezing, caressing. His thumb rubbed circles against my wrist, my palm.
“Give me some time to think about this,” I said. “I need just a little bit.”
“Of course,” he said. “I know this is out of nowhere. Months too late.”
Our arms were tensing, both of us wanting to pull the other closer. I gave in and went to him, wrapping my arms around his neck and resting my chin on his shoulder. His arms came around my back, holding me as close as he could. He was taking deep inhales, breathing me in.
“Thank you,” I said at his ear. “Thank you for telling me all of this. Even if it is months too late.”
He gave me a squeeze.
“And I’m sorry about your Pawpaw,” I said, unable to resist kissing his shirt. “I’ve been thinking of you. He’ll get better, Wally. Theo is a strong soul.” He nodded into my shoulder.
We held each other for a few more seconds before pulling apart. His eyes were red, sparkling with unshed tears. It was breaking my heart. I wanted to ask him to stay. I wanted to hold him through sleep, to show him that I was there for him.
He stood from the couch and walked towards the door. “Thanks for listening to me,” he said. “Guess, I’ll hear from you…when…whenever I hear from you.”
I followed him to the door and let him out. When the sound of his car faded, I turned out all the lights and walked to my room.
I draped the covers over me, settled into the pillow and cried.
Chapter 42
In the car the next morning, we were all quiet. My parents because they were still drowsy from sleep, but me…
My quiet was a screaming, thick thing. It pressed in on me. I gazed out of the window, watching the trees, the road signs. Why hadn’t he come to me two months ago, or even one month ago, when the hurt was still just fresh enough? It hadn’t set then. Now it was hard, engraved, on my heart.
But did it have to stay that way?
Could I scrape it away? Was the love I had for him bitter now? Was it only a sweet fondness for what we’d once had? Or was it still exactly the same? Just as strong, just as a pure, just as effortless?
That’s what my love had been. Easy. It existed without me having to nurture or kindle it. If I let myself, I could feel it heating up in my chest, reaching out to him. It was still there. I hadn’t buried it deep enough.
I took a breath and let it wash over me. I let the warmness, the memories, really reach me. Tears stung my eyes, but I didn’t allow them to fall.
Stop thinking about it, I told myself. Give yourself some time.
For the remainder of the car ride, I sat silently in the back seat—thinking of nothing but Wally Nikolokakis.
The house we’d rented was big, right on the beach. My niece and nephew bounced from room to room, squealing with delight. Since I was the only one without a significant other, I knew I’d be forced to entertain the children at least a few nights so that the couples could have some time alone.
It was late afternoon when we finally made it down to the beach. Initially, all of us were there, but gradually everyone found some excuse to go back inside until it was just the children and me.
“That didn’t take long,” I mumbled, watching my brother step into the house.
The sun was still shining, but we only had a few more hours of daylight. I guess it wouldn’t be so bad passing the time with them.
They were easy enough. We built sand castles and stood at the foot of the beach, laughing when the waves hit our toes. My nephew wanted to go on a treasure hunt, so my niece and I trailed behind him as he searched up and down the beach.
The only treasure he found was an old beer bottle buried under some sand. He was insistent that he be able to keep it, so I let him. His parents could deal with the fit he’d throw when they tried to pry it from his fingers.
They distracted me well. All into the night the three of us played. When I finally went to bed, I was too exhausted to think of anything else.
The next day was a different story. My brother’s family went on an outing and the rest of us stayed behind. I took a beach chair down to the ocean and tried to read a book, but it was impossible. All I could think of was Wally. Call him, I’d tell myself. Call him and tell him that you want him back, too. I’d nearly do it, but then think, No! Don’t. Remember how cold and heartless he’s been to you.
But he hadn’t been cold or heartless when he came to see me. He’d been vulnerable. Honest. He’d looked at me with hope.
I’d never been able to delete our text messages and pulled them up on my phone. The last picture we’d taken together had been a few weeks before Trey had shown up at my house. We were sitting at his patio table. His arms were resting on it. I was leaning towards him, smiling brightly at the camera. But he hadn’t been looking at the camera. He’d been looking at me. I tried to decide what emotion was behind his eyes.
Love, I decided.
He really had adored me. Was it possible to get all that back?
“Hey,” my mother said over my shoulder. I switched off my phone and threw it in my bag. She pretended not to see what I’d been looking at as she propped up a chair next to me.
We were silent, watching the waves crash and the seagulls fly. As a formality she asked me how work was. I told her. When that conversation had run dry, she looked away from me and said, “So, it’s not getting any easier?” I was silent. “With Wally?” she pressed.
“He, uh…he came by my house Thursday night.”
“And what did he say?” she asked.
I cleared my throat. “That he was sorry,” I said. “That he wants me back. He said he messed up.” I told her most of what we’d talked about and filled her in on the situation with his grandfather. “He’s taking it hard,” I said. “They’re close.”
“Do you think that’s the only reason he came to you?”
I hadn’t thought of that yet. “Maybe,” I said with a shrug. “Is that bad?”
My mother set her mouth and looked out into the ocean. The breeze was blowing her hair wildly back from her face as she contemplated. “Not necessarily bad,” she said. “Having something traumatic happen might have helped him see just how ignorant he was. But that doesn’t mean that he’s not being honest. Do you believe him?”
“I think so,” I said.
“Do you still love him?” she asked.
I took a breath, looked down at my legs. “Yes,” I admitted quietly.
“Well, what do you want to do?”
I didn’t know. Now our roles had reversed and I was the one who was scared. Afraid that he’d hurt me all over again. “I don’t know,” I said, almost whining.
She sighed. “He came back to you,” she said. “So that’s a point for him as far as I’m concerned. I won’t lie though, when I saw how bad he’d hurt you, how heartbroken you were, I hated him. I wanted to find him and give him a piece of my mind. There
are plenty of negative things I can say about that boy. But you love him. And we can’t help who we love. What you have to decide is whether it’s worth it. Does he seem like the type to hurt you all over again? I don’t have the answer to that, but you do.”
I processed all she’d said as I watched the sun glisten across the water. I did know the answer. I knew it almost immediately. “No one has ever made me feel like he does,” I said. “So alive. So happy. I belong with him, Momma. I know it. Deep down I just know that to be true. I’ve tried for months to get over him, but I can’t. He’s it. I don’t want anyone else. Any other man will just be a shadow, a filler for the spot he’s meant to have.”
“Then, I’d say that’s worth it,” she smiled.
With my decision made, the rest of the day seemed lighter, happier. When I made it back home, I was going to tell him. There was nothing else to it.
We’d already eaten dinner and I was hanging around the kitchen island, distractedly popping chips into my mouth as I watched my brother’s children play. I smiled as they giggled about the green and purple dogs they’d colored. “Dogs can’t be purple,” my nephew laughed, throwing his head back.
My phone dinged and still smiling I read the text message. Is this Kristen?
It was from a number I didn’t recognize. Yes, I said.
After a few minutes a new message came through—a long paragraph making my heart race. It’s Marlowe. I snuck your number, from Wally’s phone. I’m not trying to be weird or overstep, but I thought I should tell you that his grandfather has taken a really bad turn. I don’t have all the details, but I know that he’s in a coma. They haven’t been able to wake him. Wally’s at the hospital now. He wouldn’t let any of us go with him, but I know he needs someone. I’m not trying to put this on you, and please don’t feel obligated to do anything if you don’t want to, but I thought I’d at least reach out.
I didn’t even have to think about it, my fingers moving quickly. What hospital? I said.
Johnson-Hill Memorial.
In a daze, I went to my mother, holding my phone out awkwardly. “Wally’s grandfather is in a coma,” I said. “They can’t wake him.”
Her eyes went big, but then she started moving quickly, rummaging through her purse. She jerked her keys towards me. “Here,” she said. “We can ride back with Malcolm.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said, with a hurried wave of her hand. “Go.”
I went.
Chapter 43
It took me two hours to make the three hour trip to the hospital. I was on autopilot with only one thought on my mind—get to Wally. I had no idea where he was in the hospital. I had no room number. No floor. Was Theodore’s last name even Nikolokakis? I didn’t know.
Since it was so late, the only entrance open was at the E.R. I rushed through the doors, but all of the attendants were busy, and it looked like I’d have quite a time squeezing in to speak to one of them.
Thinking that I might have better luck elsewhere, I walked out into the main hospital. I meandered around corners and bends, searching for a nurse or receptionist, anyone. The hallways were mostly quiet, making it easy to hear the familiar laugh echo from around the corner. I took off in that direction. As soon as I made the turn I saw Trey. He was leaning against the wall, a phone to his ear.
“No, man, I know,” he was saying to whoever. “Yeah. That’s crazy.” His smile was wide, genuine. “Trust me,” he said. “I’d much rather be there.”
Unsure, I approached him. He wasn’t the one I wanted to talk to, but he could lead me to him. Absentmindedly, he looked in my direction, sensing someone coming towards him. When he realized it was me, he did a double take.
“I gotta go,” he said into the phone, stuffing it into his pocket. “What are you doing here?” he asked me, looking surprised.
“I heard about your grandfather.”
“Yeah,” he said with a pathetic attempt at a frown. “It’s been rough.”
“What happened?” I asked, only because it’d be easier to hear it from him than make Wally relive it.
“They don’t really know,” he said, trying again to look sad. Gosh, he was an ass. If this wasn’t affecting him, fine. But he didn’t have to pretend like it did. “Sometime last night he started acting strange, doing weird stuff. We thought it was all just normal given his situation, but then my Aunt Maggie couldn’t get him to wake up this morning. We’re waiting on some test results to come back.”
“Can you take me to him?” I asked.
“Don’t think they’re letting anyone in the room,” he said, furrowing his eyebrows.
I narrowed my eyes. He knew who I meant.
“Yeah, whatever,” he said, and started leading me down the hall.
I heard them before I saw them. They were arguing loudly, not caring who might hear them.
“It’s what he’d want, Wally!” I heard someone say. I think it was his Aunt Lisa, Trey’s mother.
“You don’t know that!” he said back.
We turned the corner, and I saw a small waiting room. Most of Theo’s family was there. Trey’s mother and sister. Wally’s mother. More people that I recognized, but couldn’t place. Maybe uncles. Cousins. Wally was standing in the middle of the room, his back to me. I hung back, uncertain that I’d be welcomed during this discussion.
“We’re going to make him a DNR,” his Aunt Lisa said.
“Shouldn’t we wait for the test results before we even start talking about any of this?” Maggie, Wally’s mother said. I couldn’t quite see her face, but it sounded like she was crying.
Lisa sighed, sounding unaffected, cold. “Fine. But if he pulls through, we’re putting him in a home. We have to. I don’t care if we have to drag him kicking and screaming. It needs to be done.”
“No,” Wally said forcefully. “NO! He’s not going there.”
“Stop it,” Lisa said. “It’s for the best.”
“I’ll live with him,” Wally said. “I’ll stay and take care of him.”
She made an amused snort and shook her head. “Wally, you can barely take care of yourself. You think you’ll be able to take care of him? With all your partying and drinking and carrying on? I think we’d all trust someone professional before we’d trust you.”
He put his hand on his hip and looked up to the ceiling. I didn’t know exactly what he wanted to say, but it was obvious that he was trying to hold back.
I could understand Lisa’s position. I didn’t know the extent of Theo’s situation, but in some cases hard decisions had to be made. But was it necessary for Theo? I knew how much Wally loved him. He’d do everything he could to make sure he was safe and cared for. They were being mean, insensitive. This conversation should be saved for later when the matter was more pressing. It was like they’d all already given up hope.
Everyone started murmuring to themselves and above the droll of their voices I heard the soft, barely there sob that tore out of Wally’s chest. I moved from the shadows of the hall and into the doorway.
They stopped talking and stared at me. I could feel their eyes, but I was only looking at Wally. “Isn’t that…” someone said.
Before this became more awkward, I softly said his name. “Wally.”
He startled and looked over his shoulder. His eyebrows drew in, his face contorting in pain. “Punks?” he said with red, teary eyes.
Trey had joined me at the door, standing too close. Wally was watching me, uncertain of what he should do, uncertain of us. I could feel his anguish, his suffering. I went to him, not caring about anyone else in the room.
I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him. Tight. I squeezed, bringing him in as close as I could. He didn’t hesitate, putting an arm around my back and a hand to my head. “Punks,” he whispered, a soft cry. “This hurts so bad. What if he…I can’t …What will I do? What will I do if he’s gone?”
“Shhh…” I said, giving him affectionate rubs. “You’ll be okay,”
I said, because it was the only thing I could think to.
He stood there, letting me offer him comfort. He was crying, gentle, barely there sobs that he couldn’t hold on to. Hearing him break down like that pulled at my emotions, and tears started to form. Eventually, I was crying right along with him. The hug lasted and lasted, until the people in the room started whispering, murmuring.
“Do you want some fresh air?” I asked him, thinking he might want to get away from them.
He nodded, sniffed. “Yeah.”
I took his hand and led him through the door, past Trey who was looking at his feet. We didn’t speak as we walked, but he followed me willingly, letting me navigate. When the night air hit us, I spotted a bench outside the Emergency Room doors and brought him to it.
He propped his elbows on his knees and leaned over. I sat close to him and rubbed a hand up and down his back. I thought about telling him that yes, I wanted to start again, but I figured that he already knew that and besides, it was poor timing. What would he say anyway? Was he supposed to be happy? Not while his grandfather lay in a room, possibly dying.
After a few silent minutes, he said, “Thank you for coming.”
“Of course,” I said, rubbing him.
“How did you even know about it?”
“Marlowe told me,” I said. “She texted me while I was at the beach. I came straight here.”
“You left to come here?” he asked, turning towards me.
“Absolutely,” I said, brushing his hair off his forehead. “I know how much you care about him. And I care about him, too. I want to be here. For him and for you.”
“He’d like that,” he said and looked off towards the parking lot. “He was doing so good just a few days ago. Perfect. Normal. But then he started forgetting things. Everything. He didn’t recognize my mom or me. It was like, boom, one day. That was all it took. One day and he suddenly took a turn. I was scared. So scared. He was belligerent. Crazy. My mom had to call 911. And then just a few days later, this happens. What am I supposed to do, Kristen?”
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