Page 75 of The Edge of Summer
My ability to form words escapes me.Am I alright?The right answer is no, probably not. The safe answer is yes. I settle for something in the middle.
“Fine,” I say with a jerky nod. “Just a nightmare.”
Silence stretches between us then. If I didn’t know any better, I would assume Delilah had fallen back asleep. But the sheets ruffle as she sits up against the headboard, crossing her legs. I figured she would be out the door by now. After all, she didn’t sign up for this.
“Was she your ex?” she asks. “Kristina?”
My lips roll inwards as I nod. I can’t bring myself to look at her, so I stare at the calluses on my palms instead. Above all else, I feel ashamed. I hate that I have these nightmares, but I hate even more that Delilah has witnessed me like this. I feel like I’ve lost all sense of control and I don’t know how to get it back. Maybe I can’t.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
My gut instinct is to say no. Whenever Gabe or Clara or my parents ask me that, I immediately shut them down. They don’t need to hear me feeling sorry for myself. Not when they almost lost someone they love because of me. Because I had the stupid sense to fall into bed with an irresponsible woman and think that things would be different. That I would be enough for her.
But some part of me wants Delilah to know. Maybe because I want her to truly understand why we can never be anything more than this. If, after I tell her, she wants to walk away, I’ll understand.
“Two years ago,” I say. “I wasn’t chief yet, but I wanted to be. It was well-known that the chief at the time would be retiring in a matter of months and I was eager to prove myself. That night, Gabe was on shift. Mom and Dad were out of town. Clara was busy manning Dockside and HavenHouse. I was off, so I told Gabe that I would take Abbie.” My hands clench into fists. “But then a call for overtime came in.”
I pinch my eyes shut, trying to escape the memory. If I can just outrun it, I won’t have to see the flames dance as I run into the house, not knowing what I’ll find.
“Kristina never really took to Abbie. Looking back, that should have been reason enough to end things. When I got the call, I begged her to watch Abbie while I went in to work. We wereengaged. I thought—” My voice trips. “I thought she could be trusted.”
I thought, I thought, I thought. But I didn’tknow. The months after were spent going over every moment, from the day we met to the day it all came crashing down. I spent many nights agonizing over what I could have done differently.
“What happened?” Delilah’s voice is nothing but a whisper.
The laugh that leaves me is raw. “She held a fucking party. Kristina could befriend anyone, and that week, she met a bunch of college kids up from the States. They were renting a cottage on the lake and they invited her to hang out. Thank God she told them she couldn’t come over, but she had no trouble inviting them to our house.”
Delilah waits patiently as I collect my thoughts. She doesn’t rush me. Really, she doesn’t ask anything of me. I always felt like I was trying to keep up with Kristina. Like I was never quite good enough for her. There was one thing or another she kept wanting me to change. But never Delilah.
“They got wasted and high while Abbie was asleepupstairs. Everything was fine until someone lit a candle that inevitably got tipped over. When they started to smell the smoke, they freaked out and ran outside. And they—” My voice falters. “They left Abbie inside alone.”
Delilah doesn’t gasp or make any sound that would indicate she heard me. But I watch her hand settle over my palm, her fingers fitting into the spaces between mine. Her grip is steady, serving as a grounding point when it feels like the memories might drag me straight into the undertow.
“I found her hiding under a bed,” I spit out. “She was so scared.”
When I look at her, Delilah’s eyes are full of tears. “I’m so glad she was okay.”
And I have to believe that she truly means it. Because if she doesn’t, then that just proves how much of a fool I am—letting myself become attached in all the wrong ways, not once, but twice. I have to look away.
“I broke up with Kristina a week later. I—” I shake my head. “I couldn’t look at her without being reminded of all my mistakes. Being reminded that it was my fault.”
“Luke, it wasn’t?—”
“It was.”
My tone brooks no argument. Delilah clamps her mouth shut. I know she doesn’t agree with me, but I can’t hear her say it. My family has tried, over and over. Their words don’t erase what happened. Nothing can. Nothing can take back the emotional trauma that Abbie went through that night because I had to be the fucking hero. Helping is as innate as breathing to me. But that impulse almost cost me everything.
We sit in silence for a few long moments. I can feel herwatching me. Waiting to see if I’ll say more. But I’ve already wrung myself dry.
Eventually, Delilah releases a small sigh. “I should get going,” she says quietly. She gives my hand a squeeze, and then she slowly pulls hers from mine. My jaw clenches. “Your mom is probably ready to hand Sophia off.”
I try to shake the anger and the guilt, and I let out a chuckle. It comes out a little flat. “Mom would keep her forever if she could.”
The smile she gives me is sad. Full of pity.Fuck, I hate that.
Delilah and I dress in silence. The clothes she was wearing earlier have dried some, so she slips them back on. I notice that she doesn’t bother returning my hoodie, though. Instead, she tugs it over her head and lets the sleeves cover her hands. I have to hide my small grin.
The drive from my house to hers is silent, too. My memories have me in a chokehold, and I think she’s trying to give me space. The problem, I have come to realize, is that I don’t want space. Not from her. And that is the most dangerous feeling of all.
