Page 72 of Broken Country

“But where?” he said. “If anyone sees us…”

I told him of a place where Bobby and I used to play hide-and-seek, a field that was halfway between Meadowlands and Blakely Farm and had a huge sweet chestnut tree at one end. We loved that tree, Bobby and I, almost as much as the old oak on the farm. When he was small I used to take storybooks and a little picnic and we’d spend a few hours there, reading about Peter Rabbit or digging for worms, one of Bobby’s top pursuits.

I arrived at the tree before Gabriel and waited for him to come. It was a clear blue day, cold, with sharp sunshine. I wished I were anyone but me. And Gabriel was anyone but him. I couldn’t tell if the anxiety humming through my bloodstream was because I was seeing him again or because of the things I must tell him.

“There you are,” he said, appearing around the tree, a few minutes later.

It was like a miniature heart attack just looking at him.

He had lost weight, there were deep hollows in his cheeks and dark rings beneath his eyes. But still the beautiful boy I fell for long ago.

“Beth,” he said.

Nothing else for a minute, just my name. Then he joined me, his back against the tree, the two of us staring out at the long stretch of sodden grass. It was early November by then, weeks since we’d seen each other, since that terrible night.

I asked Gabriel about Leo and he told me he was having nightmares, another arrow of guilt to poison myself with. I thought of him trembling beside me as we sheltered beneath the table, the scent of his raw fear in my nostrils. A young boy who believed his father was about to get shot. We had so much to blame ourselves for, Gabriel and I.

“How’s Frank?” Gabriel said.

How could I possibly describe the walking wreckage that was my husband?

“He’s so bad,” I whispered.

Gabriel took hold of my hand. “I’m so sorry. Sorry for everything.”

“I know you are. I’m so sorry too. I blame myself for all of it.”

“I’d tell you not to except I’m doing exactly the same thing. I always will.”

We spent a minute in silence thinking our own thoughts. I was thinking about Gabriel and how he was one of the only people I knew who always acknowledged when things were wrong or bad, without trying to make it better or shift the blame. That’s rare, I think. Most people rush in to assuage your guilt with meaningless platitudes and it doesn’t help.

What helps, I have learned, years too late, is to accept responsibility for the things I have done. To be accountable, I suppose.

“I regret what happened so much and I wish, more than anything, I could change it,” I say. “But I will never forget the time you and I had together.”

“It sounds so final when you say it like that.”

“I’ll always love you, Gabriel.”

“Actually, please don’t say any more. I’m not sure I need to hear this.”

“I need to say it, though. For myself. For Frank. I’m sorry.” I felt bad for making Gabriel listen. But this was my way now. “I’ve loved you for so long and I know that if certain things hadn’t gone wrong back then we would still be together now. Being with you has meant everything to me. I fell in love with you, all over again. People say you can’t love two people at the same time, but you can, and I do. I love you. And I love Frank. But it’s Frank I have to bewith. Even if Jimmy hadn’t died, I would still need to be with Frank. It’s our history. Everything we’ve been through together. Frank needs me. And I need Frank. I know you will find that with someone else in time. I’m so sad it can’t be me. You’re a good man, Gabriel. You really are.”

I squeeze Gabriel’s hand. Both of us staring straight ahead.

“You think I can move on from you that easily? I don’t know how to be without you. I never did.”

“It will get easier. In time. You and I know this.”

“I wish we’d had longer. I wish you were still with me.”

“You deserve someone so much better.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” There was lightness in his voice now and we turned to look at each other properly for the first time. We smiled.

“I think I’m going to go,” he said.

“All right.”