If I Fall

by Britt Morgan

  “You don’t have to believe it to feel it,” she said. “But when two people are as close as you and Carter were, I don’t believe a love like that ever truly dies.” She replaced her glasses and leaned back, smiling again. Her eyes flickered from my face and down to the journal. “How is the reading coming?” she asked. I sighed and ran my thumbs over the faded, leather-bound cover.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “It’s difficult to read sometimes. It’s hard to find out how much pain Carter was truly in—and I had no idea about it.”

  “What would have happened had you known?” she asked. I looked up at the doctor, feeling a stab in my heart.

  “Maybe I could have saved him,” I said. Mrs. Dunham smiled, but it was a sad smile.

  “I don’t think he wanted you to know, Khloe,” she said. “Do you think maybe he was only here to protect you?”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “No?”

  “No.” I folded my arms, feeling suddenly like a toddler on the verge of a fit. “I don’t think anyone is born only to grow up and die. Carter didn’t even live his life. He was still a kid. Both of us were.” Mrs. Dunham and I stared one another down, silent, pensive. I swallowed back my hurt and anger, debating on whether to bail from this place and never return. However, before I could force myself to rise, the counselor spoke.

  “Carter was your angel in life, Khloe. You must allow him to be your angel in death if you can ever allow yourself to move on.”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, unexpectedly missing Carter as much as I had when I’d found him lifeless on his bedroom floor. That night, a life had ended, and a second one—mine—had ceased to continue. In losing Carter I had lost a piece of myself—a missing chunk from the puzzle of life. Without it, there would be no end, just a never-ending search for that missing piece. I knew right then that it didn’t matter how long I was sober, or how well I did in school. Despite all those things, I knew I would truly never move on with my life until I came to peace with his death.

  “I don’t know if I can do this,” I said. “I don’t know if I can just forget about him.”

  “No one is asking you to forget.” Mrs. Dunham leaned forward, her vivid blue eyes meeting mine. “No one would expect you to forget Carter. We’re asking you to accept it.”

  “I can’t accept that he’s dead,” I said.

  “Then accept that he’s still here—in spirit.” Mrs. Dunham leaned back in her chair and scribbled something down on her notepad. Then she looked at me again. “Only then will you truly be able to piece your own life back together.”

  * * *

  “So, how did it go?” Jay reached down to turn the music on low and glanced over at me. I was still holding Carter’s journal in my hands, running over the session I’d just had with Mrs. Dunham in my head.

  “It was—okay.”

  “Just okay?”

  “Yeah.” I hesitated, staring out the window at the cars around us. “I mean, she didn’t have any answers for me.”

  “It’s not her job to have answers, Khloe,” Jay said. “It’s her job to help you find your own answers.”

  “I guess,” I murmured. Then I looked over at him. “Sometimes I find myself wondering if there are even any answers to find.”

  Chapter 34

  I hadn’t seen Ava in a while, even at work. The boss told me she’d taken more time off, and she refused to answer her phone or open the door to me, which only left me anxious and on edge—especially when I didn’t have a bottle of booze to drown my emotions in. I found myself constantly wondering about her, worrying, praying she was okay and not dead in some ditch on the side of the road somewhere. I tended the bar without her there, just keeping my head down and my mouth closed so I could get by day-to-day.

  When I wasn’t working, I found myself spending increasingly more time with Ty, and by the end of the month I had come to find that I was spending more time at his place than I was my own. I was relieved to have him. I knew what would have happened had he not been there to hold me up, the result wouldn’t have been good. Eventually Jesse stopped calling my phone, and the texts had ceased.

  We were curled up on Ty’s couch in his apartment’s living room, only halfway paying attention to the movie he’d put on for our Friday night marathon. It was ten p.m. By now, I would have been wasted and stumbling, but tonight I was sober. Week four, and I was amazed at the way the cravings had begun to subside.

  “I like you here,” Ty said. He reached for a box of chow mein and dug in, awkwardly trying to eat with the chopsticks. I giggled, reaching over to brush a strand of dark hair aside. The more time I spent with Ty, the harder I felt myself falling. He was still so charming and kind, funny and intelligent—I kept waiting for something to go wrong—a broken heart or a major fight or admittance to simply tolerating me out of sympathy. But none of those things had happened—being with him was just as compelling as it had been the first day.

  “I wish I had something else besides work to keep me busy,” I said. “I wish it was time for school to start.” I cracked open a fortune cookie and crunched on it.

  “Volunteer at the hospital for a while,” Ty suggested. “You’ll be in school for nursing, eventually medical school—that will look great on a resume.”

  “I can do that?” I asked. “Volunteer at the hospital?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “You’d be surprised at the things you learn when your world stops revolving around booze.” Ty smiled and winked, but it was easy to see his point. Since I’d given up drugs and alcohol, my mind was suddenly concerned with so many other things that had not been relevant before. I often found myself pondering goals—making a bucket list, thinking about life. I felt more driven to succeed now, and not so stuck in a rut, flailing in a black hole of nothingness.

  “Ty,” I said, and shifted so I could face him. “We need to help Ava. I know you said that if she’s ever ready she’ll come to us, but I can’t sit back and wait for it. If she died because I didn’t try to help her, I could never forgive myself.”

  “I know,” Ty said. “And I think you’re right. I think your friend is too stubborn to come forward and seek help.”

  “We need to do it ourselves,” I said. Ty handed me the crust off his pizza, my favorite part, and then brushed the crumbs off his pant legs.

  “I agree,” he said. “And I think I have an idea—for her and you.”

  “Thank you,” I leaned forward and rested my lips on his, inhaling his familiar, comforting scent. I was just about to pull away when Ty caught my chin in his fingers, keeping me steady. I melted into him, hungry for more, a fire kindled in the pit of my stomach. Overwhelming desire washed over me, and I felt a tingling in my abdomen as the need became more intense.

  “I’m sorry,” Ty said, and pulled away. “I hope I’m not pressuring you.”

  “No,” I pulled him back into me, never wanting to let go. “I want this.”

  Ty didn’t argue as I pressed my lips to his again, slowly letting my hand slide down his chest, over his abdomen, and then lower. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this intimate while sober. It was an enchanting feeling, and I found myself feeling so much more aware—aware of every touch, every tingle, every feeling from the top of my head down to my toes. I moved my hand along Ty’s zipper, feeling him harden with excitement beneath my touch. As I teased his tongue with my own, he reached back with one hand and unclasped my bra before pulling my tee shirt over my head. I allowed him to do it, squirming with pleasure as his thumb caressed my nipple. I drew in a deep breath of air between my teeth and closed my eyes.

  “Please tell me you have condoms,” I whispered. Ty smiled, drawing his hand back, and then stood and went into his bedroom, coming out a moment later with foil-wrapped protection.

  “I’m not sure if I should be relieved or horrified,” I said with a giggle.

  “Trust me, this isn’t as cool as it looks
. I’m pretty sure they belonged to an old roommate of mine who used to live in that room.”

  “Keep the sexy talk coming,” I snickered. “I can’t get enough of it.”

  Ty smiled and sat back down on the couch, the condom still gripped between two fingers. “Are you sure?” he asked, and I removed his own shirt in silence, allowing my hand to rest on his chest. His muscles tensed and rippled beneath my fingers, and the fire in my stomach grew. In one quick motion, I had Ty pressed down against the couch, straddling him. I pulled my hair out of the band that held it together and allowed it to cascade down over my shoulders and breasts. Then, gently, I slipped the Levi’s from Ty’s legs before leaning over and letting my lips rest against his lower abdomen. He closed his eyes, groaning in pleasure, and I kicked off my panties. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d wanted someone this badly.

  I took the condom from Ty’s hand and ripped the foil with my teeth. The feeling of his skin against mine was more than I could handle, and I was already more than ready to allow him to take me as I slipped the condom on him and lowered myself onto him, feeling a burst of pleasure zip through my spine. Ty groaned, which only made me want him more. I rocked my hips up and down, allowing him to fill me completely. His body moved in sync with mine, forcing another zap of pleasure through me. I closed my eyes and rested my hands on his chest as I neared climax. At the last second, before I released, Ty flipped me over so he was on top. I gasped as he slid into me, panting, and all at once, moments later, we collapsed in each other’s arms, trying to catch our breath.

  “Khloe Daniels, I think I love you,” Ty whispered, pulling me into him. I rested my head on his chest, feeling content and, for the first time in a long time, happy.

  “I think I love you, too,” I murmured, but I really had no doubt about it. I was crazy for this man and everything he was. Before we’d even composed ourselves, we were hungry for each other again.

  * * *

  I sat in the car in the dark, parked on the corner of 8th Street and Elm. It was Saturday night, but the neighborhood was quiet. I kept my eyes peeled for Jay, knowing that he would be off work and meeting Ty and me here at any moment. As I waited, I reached for my cell phone, skimming through the contacts before pushing green. It rang once, twice, three times. I closed my eyes and silently prayed. There was no answer.

  “Try again,” Ty urged. I redialed the number, let it ring, and then called back when no one picked up. After six more rounds of this game, she finally answered.

  “What?”

  “Hi, Ava, it’s me.” Relived that she’d finally answered, I balanced the phone between my ear and shoulder and turned the car off, staring into the darkness. Jay had tuned up Missus Betty for me, (Ty knew nothing about cars, possibly his only flaw) but I knew it was only a matter of time before the poor car was done for.

  “No shit,” Ava said. Either she was sick as a dog or she wasn’t glad to hear from me. Regardless of which one it was, I was shockingly relieved to hear that—if anything—she was still alive. Ty looked over at me from where he was sitting in the passenger’s seat. His eyebrows were raised.

  “Are you home? Can you do me a favor?” I asked her. “Can you meet me on 8th street?”

  “Yes, I’m home. Why?”

  “I need to talk to you. There’s a little cafe on the corner. See you in fifteen minutes?”

  “I don’t think so.” Ava said. I hoped that she was just tired and not high. Her little place was only a few blocks from here. I knew that if she really was home, she could meet me here with no problem.

  “Please,” I said. “I beg of you, Ava. Just meet me here. We need to talk.”

  “I don’t think there’s anything that needs to be said,” Ava snapped. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, resisting the urge to start crying. Or screaming. Or both.

  “Eighth Street,” I said. “You’ll see my car. See you in a bit.” I hung up before she could reply, praying that she would show up. Ava was hard to predict, even for me, her best friend. I knew her better than I knew anybody, and yet sometimes I felt as though I hardly knew her at all. I wondered if that was how Carter felt with me. It’s certainly how I felt with him.

  “She’ll come,” Ty said, seeing the look on my face. He reached out and squeezed my hand, which automatically put me at ease. I hated how well he could do that, because it made me feel completely dependent on him.

  “I hope so,” I said. “But you don’t know Ava like I do.”

  My cell phone lit up with an incoming text. It was Jay. He was on his way. I took a deep breath and slipped my phone into my pocket before gathering my keys and stepping out of the car. Ty did the same, putting his arm around me and pulling me in. The air was brisk and cool with a September rush of fall. I couldn’t believe that it had been almost six months since Carter’s passing. Most of the time, it still felt like it was yesterday.

  Down the street, someone hooted and hollered, stumbling out of the corner bar. A woman was wrapped around the kid’s neck, practically hanging on him as he stumbled unsteadily. The longer I watched the more familiar the kid became. It was Jesse.

  “Christ.” I rolled my eyes and turned away, hoping he wouldn’t see me and stop to chat, but I was a moment too late. Jesse paused in the middle of the road, his eyes scanning my face over the head of the blonde-haired woman who was still hanging on him like a leech to wet skin.

  “Khloe,” he said, and came over. Ty, who was still arm-in-arm with me, said nothing, only observed.

  “Hi, Jesse.” I tried to sound pleasant, but I didn’t let go of Ty’s arm. It wasn’t Jesse who had gotten me into the drugs in booze. He had only been my play toy while I’d been down in the dumps. If anything, I should have been feeling guilty.

  “You never call me anymore,” Jesse said. He stepped in front of me, swaying. His hands were deep in the baggy pockets of his jeans. I saw his eyes scan over Ty, but he didn’t offer his hand. The woman with him stared at me over, sneering, as if sizing me up for a rumble in the park. I rolled my eyes.

  “I’ve been busy,” I told him. “Busy getting my shit together.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s good—I guess.” Jesse shrugged halfheartedly, and I forced a smile, hoping he’d take this as a polite goodbye. “I miss you,” he said instead, and I cringed inwardly. “We need to get together, yeah?” I opened my mouth, about to agree just so I could get him out of my face, but then I hesitated. It was time to start taking responsibility for my actions, even if it meant speaking the truth and standing up for myself.

  “I don’t think so,” I said finally. “I’m not the same person that you knew, Jesse. I’m growing up.”

  “Oh, c’mon,” Jesse smiled, shrugging the blond girl on his shoulder off. She released him, looking pissed. He didn’t seem to notice. “Where’s the fun in growing up?”

  “I didn’t say it was fun,” I said. “But it’s rewarding. And besides—I’m kind of dating someone.” I squeezed Ty’s arm pointedly, and he leaned down and kissed me on the top of the head. Jesse and I stared at each other for a moment; two souls that at one time had been lost together, trapped in a deep, black hole. Now—now, he was on his own. I couldn’t let anyone drag me down again, not when I was so close to the surface.

  “Good to see you, Khloe,” Jesse said finally. He didn’t even bother glancing again at Ty. “Take care of yourself.” He pulled the blond-haired person back into him, squeezing her, as if clutching a teddy bear for dear life, before walking away. I watched him go, watched them sway under the drunken stupor of booze. For a moment, I wanted so badly to call out to him, to tell him that not all hope was lost, and that he could still get clean. But I didn’t. I stood back and watched him vanish, wondering if I’d ever see him again.

  “I’m proud of you,” Ty said, and warmth exploded in my heart for the man standing next to me. He’d allowed me to fight my own battle but had never stepped back and let me fall without being ready to catch me
.

  “Thank you,” I said. I squeezed his hand. “I’m pretty proud of me, too.”

  “Khloe?” said a timid voice behind us. I turned around, meeting Ava’s gaze. She was dressed in faded jeans and a tank top, covered by a ratty shawl that I knew at one time had belonged to her foster mother, the one she had liked a little bit more than any of the others.

  “You came,” I said. “Thank you.” Without waiting for an invitation, I threw my arms around her, nearly breaking down with relief. Ava was tense at first, steady like a statue, but after a moment she returned the hug, even if it was half-assed. Though I could smell cigarettes on her breath, there was no scent of lingering booze.

  “I came,” she said.

  “Please come with me, okay? We have something to do.” I tugged her forward, feeling how cold her skin was against mine. She didn’t say anything to Ty, but he tried to smile kindly at her as we walked.

  “What are we doing here, Khloe?” she asked. I could hear the hesitation in her voice, the distrust. As I pulled her, she faltered, coming to a halt right outside the door. “This isn’t a cafe,” she said. “You said we’d be meeting at a cafe.”

  “It’s okay,” I assured her. “We need this.” From inside the building, Jay stepped out, holding the door for us. Ava caught sight of him and took a step back, confused.

  “What are you doing here? I don’t get it.” She looked over at Ty. “Why are the both of you here?”

  “Ava,” Jay said. I stepped out of the way as he took my spot beside her, taking her hand in his. She didn’t even try to pull away. Jay seemed to have that effect on people. “I’m a drug and alcohol sponsor,” he told her. “Some of us feel that we would really love for you to sit in with us at one of these meetings. I think it will help you. Khloe, too. She said she would go if you went.” I braced myself, expecting her to scream. Or cry. Or punch somebody in the face. She didn’t. She barely breathed.

  “A meeting?” she squeaked.

  “Will you do this for me?” I asked. “Will you do this for you?” Ava looked at me then, and even in the dark of the night, with nothing but the light from the street-pole, I could see the tears brimming her eyes.