Page 85 of A Moment for Us
“You just said that you did everything possible.”
The laugh that comes from his mouth is full of self-loathing. “Not for her. No, for her, I was thoughtless. I worried about the inn. I wanted to make sure my property and the people staying there were safe. But who cared about her? Who’s responsible for her death? Me. I told her what to do. I was the one . . .”
I get up, refusing to let him push me away. Not this time. I approach him, standing closer than I know he wants, but not giving a damn. “The one who what?”
“She was so scared. She lived closer to the water, and we knew that she needed to get out of there. So, I told her to go to my house. My apartment was on the third floor and in a better location. The surrounding area would flood, but at least the house wouldn’t.”
“Sounds very reasonable.”
“I told her I’d come get her because she didn’t want to drive. She was afraid because there was already flooding where she lived.” Josh runs his hands through his hair. “I told her to wait ten minutes. I told her I would come as soon as I finished one thing, but the storm picked up speed and started moving in faster. I was so focused on my job that I didn’t leave when I said I would. It wasn’t ten minutes, it was an hour.”
I watch the memories flash across his face. His lashes fall and that single movement says everything about the pain he feels. Josh has always cared about the people in his life. He is protective, caring, loyal, and this is breaking him.
“That’s not your fault. It was a storm.”
“Yes, but I said I would go to her. I promised her that it would be fine and I would come get her. It was over an hour I was late. Too late to get to her and help her.”
“Josh, that’s not . . .”
“It is, Delia. It’s my fault. I should’ve left when she needed me. Who cared about boarding up the fucking pavilion? I did. I cared about that more than her. She got in that car. She didn’t wait because, when she tried to text and call me to find out where I was, I didn’t hear my phone. I was busy, and she was fucking terrified. So, she left her house as the winds and rain raged.”
My heart races, already able to guess how this story ends. “I’m so sorry.”
“When I called her back, she was panicking. She pulled over, and I told her to just stay put and I’d come to her. The rains, you couldn’t see. I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t see anything. I drove to where she said she was while the panic in her voice got worse.” Josh’s hands start to shake, and I take them in mine, lending him whatever strength I have. “The flooding came so fast. Between the surge and the rain, it just was . . . there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t get to her. I tried so fucking hard. There were others there, we made a chain, and tried, but the current took the car and . . . I found out . . . I found out after that she was pregnant.”
My breath stops. “Josh . . .”
“She was going to have a baby, and I let her and that baby die. I was right there. I was so close, and I watched her go.”
I grip his hand harder, trying to ignore the idea that he very well could have died that day too. The selfish part of me is glad he’s here, and then guilt weighs on me, reminding me that this event took something from him. It took a part of him, washing away and leaving him broken.
“Josh, you didn’t kill her.Youdidn’t. The storm did.”
“I wasn’t there for them.”
“You were there. You were there, and she knew that because you tried to save her.”
His eyes meet mine, and the shame and sadness is too much. “You didn’t hear her scream for me or watch it happen.”
“You tried, Josh.”
“And I fucking failed!” He releases my hands and starts to walk. “I was there, Delia. I was right there, and I didn’t reach her. Had I left five minutes earlier. Had I done a hundred different things different. Had I said fuck the goddamn inn and gone to the person who mattered, she and that baby would be here.”
“But you wouldn’t,” I say the words, my voice even. Whatever he hears in it causes him to stop and stare at me. “You wouldn’t be here, Josh. You wouldn’t be in Willow Creek Valley. We wouldn’t be standing here, having this conversation. It doesn’t mean that what you’ve been through hasn’t changed you.” I step to him, and he stands ramrod still. “It doesn’t mean that what you endured wasn’t incredibly sad and painful. I’m sorry. Truly sorry that Morgan and that child are gone. If you loved her, she had to be special and wonderful. Their loss, it’s tragic and awful.
“You’re here, though. You’re alive and here, and I am standing before you with my heart in my hands, giving it to you without fear. We aren’t replacing all you’ve lost, but we’re a second chance. I love you, Josh. I have loved you my entire life, and I don’t care that you think you’re undeserving because you’re wrong. You do deserve to be happy.”
I move again, and the tears in his eyes slash through my already battered heart. “Don’t.”
“It’s too late. It was too late when I was fifteen, and it’s definitely too late now.” While he may not want it, my heart is his, and I’m going to push him to accept it or push him out the door. Those are the only options for me. I can’t live this half existence with him. “Tell me this, did you try?”
He blinks, shaking his head. “Try to what?”
“After the current took her car, did you try to go after her?” I already know the answer. I didn’t have to be there to see it or have him tell me. Joshua Parkerson doesn’t give up on people he loves. He fights. There isn’t a single doubt in my mind that, even as that car drifted, he was moving after it. That every person who made that human chain had to hold him back from going after her.
“I couldn’t get to her . . .”
“Someone stopped you,” I guess, but it’s said as a fact.
