Page 36 of Notorious

“Can I ask you one more favor?” His voice is wary.

“Anything.”

“Promise me you’ll stay alive today?”

Well, heck. Tension grips me, but … one day. And it’s already half over. “Yeah,” I say again. “I can do that.”

I can’t even die right.

Kurt smiles, and he leans toward me, but then he stops. “Thank you. That’s all you have to do. C’mon, let me show you around. I used to live in an older bungalow, but when this development got built, I had to get in on it.”

I nod, and we get out of the car, leaving our bags for the time being. I follow him up a flight of stairs into the bright, open condo. Sure enough, there’s an expansive balcony overlooking the beach. I take off my dusty boots and leave them at the door. The place is spacious, and it’s immediately apparent that it’s a bachelor pad—no pets, no kids, nothing to mess it up. After I get a better look at the leather furniture, colorful art, and clean lines, I want to turn right around and head back to the garage.

Kurt sees the look on my face as he removes his own shoes. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” I say.

“Honesty,” he reminds me.

“Just … what we were talking about in the car. I don’t belong here.”

“Babe.” My whole body relaxes when he calls me that, even if the peaceful feeling won’t last. “We need to focus on you feeling better. Everything else is secondary.”

“Why are you being so—” I gesture helplessly. “Like this. I’m a stranger. You don’t know me at all. I know at times it seems I’m studying to be a half-wit, but even I can tell what you’re doing don’t make an ounce of sense.”

A pained look passes across Kurt’s face. “We already talked about this. But I guess there’s one thing I haven’t told you. One big thing.” He starts pacing in front of a breakfast bar. I stand in the middle of his living room in my stocking feet, watching him. “My high school boyfriend, Andrei, killed himself. He used pills and razors, and when his parents found him, it was too late. He’d bled out.”

“Oh, shit,” I hiss, my stomach sinking.

Way to fuck up Kurt’s life as much as you’ve fucked up everyone else’s.

“It … it fucking gutted me. No one saw how bad he was feeling. I didn’t realize. I didn’t stop him.” He bites his lip, and his eyes well up. “I still see him in my nightmares.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Kurt.”

He takes a breath and seems to get ahold of himself. “Yeah. So. Time has made it … less. It’s dulled the pain somewhat, but that loss, that guilt has never gone away.” He gets almost clinical, like he’s repeating something that’s been said to him. “Suicide has implications far beyond the individual. For the people left behind, there’s a void that can’t be filled.”

“Okay,” I say, feeling like I need to say something.

“I kind of fell apart for a while. Not that—I don’t mean to privilege my reactions over the pain Andrei must have been in. Anyway, the whole experience made my parents sticklers for mental health care. After that, if the smallest thing happened, I saw a therapist.” He lets out a rueful laugh. “I’ve had a lot of fucking therapy over the years, let me tell you.”

“It sounds like it.”

“All I’m saying is, mental health matters. It should matter to everyone. It definitely matters to me. So please, stay with me, and let’s get you the help you need. Let me do this.”

“I’m a stubborn bastard, and I don’t think I’ll ever get used to accepting charity,” I tell him.

“It’s not charity.”

“How is giving me a free place to stay, arranging for me to get medical care, helping my mama—how is that not charity?”

“I’d call it just being a decent human being,” Kurt says.

“It’s so far beyond that?—”

“By staying, you’re helping me feel like I’m making amends for the way I let Andrei down.”

I swallow. “I don’t think you let him down.”

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