Page 79 of Smoky Mountain Dreams
“I’d rather you heard it from me thansomeone else.”
He’d explained about the accident and the coma, but…fuck.Fuck.Had he explicitly explained Marcy’s situation? Hewas used to people justknowing. And Christopherwasn’t playing now. He clearly hadn’t known.
“Christ.” Jesse closed his eyes and took a long swallow of hissecond drink. “Holy fucking hell. Could this day get any worse?”
Christopher was quiet, and Jesse finally looked to assessthe damage done. Christopher was rubbing his fingers over his eyes, and then hesat back, picked up his beer, and drained half of it quickly.
“I’m so sorry, Chris. I thought you knew. I swear to God, Ithought you understood when I said that she was in an accident that—”
“Stop. Just don’t talk for a second,” Christopher said,dragging his hand over his face. Jesse would have given anything to be able toread his mind; to know his thoughts as emotions tumbled over his expressive,vulnerable face.
“Wow. Okay, your wife isn’t dead. She’s what? You’re talkingabout unplugging her and…what does that mean? I guess I need it spelled out forme.”
Christopher’s voice was shaky, and Jesse wanted to reach outand touch his hand, comfort him and soothe his confusion away.How did I fuck this up so badly?He took a deep breath.His throat was dry, and he wanted another shot of bourbon, but it was likelythe last thing he needed. He realized his hands were trembling, and he drewthem to his lap, clenching his fingers together.
“Marcy’s in a permanent vegetative state. Somewhere betweenlevel one and two on the Rancho Los Amigos scale, which, no, no—I know. Thatmeans nothing to you. Basically, it’s how they measure cognitive function, andshe effectively has none. At all. There’s no hope for recovery. No brainactivity. No one left there in her body. Her cerebral cortex has mostly beenreplaced by cerebrospinal fluid. The Marcy I knew and loved is gone. She’s justa body now that breathes, wakes, sleeps, and exists. It’s utter fuckingtorture.”
“Jesus.” Christopher shook his head.
Jesse’s stomach knotted up even more. Was this going to bethe end now? It’d been going so damn well and he wanted to dive in for more ofthis man. He wanted to sit with Christopher and drink and talk and take himhome and ask him to play that “Paper Heart” song for him again. Jesse’s chestached at the thought of the melody.
If that didn’t happen—if Christopher decided this was toomuch bullshit and walked away—Jesse couldn’t blame him. Maybe he could blameRonnie. She’d be thrilled if her religious bullshit stripped him of this fresh,new, beautiful almost-something that she’d find sinful and ugly.And I can blame myself.He dug his fingernails into thebacks of his hands.
“Oh my God.” Christopher breathed in and out, took anotherswallow of beer, and stared blindly across the room.
Jesse could see his pulse fluttering in his neck, fast likea rabbit, and he wanted to touch him just there to feel it against his finger,to kiss it and beg him not to leave. Not yet. To swear to him nothing hadchanged. But for Christopher it probably had changed.
“Let me get this straight. You’re still married?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Okay, wow. So, technically, we’ve been committingadultery.” He blinked and swallowed, shook his head, and picked at the label onhis drink, looking anywhere but at Jesse’s face. “Not that I haven’t probablydone that before with some guys I hooked up with in Nashville, but this isdifferent. This is something I know about now.”
“She’s not in her body. She’s dead for all intents andpurposes.” Jesse winced. It still felt like a gut-punch to say that sometimes. “It’snot adultery to me. My wife died five years ago. I had to move on.”
“Okay, but legally, you’re still married.”
“Yes.”
“I just…I didn’t know.”
“I thought you did. I thought—listen, I understand. It’sheavy, and probably a hell of a lot more than you want to deal with. I knowthis isn’t what you’re looking for.” He forced the next words out. They feltlike slivers of glass on his tongue. “I’ll understand if you want to walk away.”
Christopher eyed him sharply. “Hey now. Give me a minute. I’msurprised and I have every right to be. I thought I understood the situation,but I didn’t. I’m not sure how I feel about that, and I think I have the rightto feel however Iwantabout it without it meaning adamn thing going forward. Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Then back off and let me feel this out for a second.”
Jesse groaned and drained his glass. “I’m doing this allwrong. I’m fucking this up.”
Christopher blinked at him in annoyance, green-flecked-goldbeneath the fringe of dark blond lashes, eyes as wide and beautiful as ever. Heshook his head, looked away, and sighed.
“What?” Jesse asked timidly.
“I feel like I might need something besides a beer,actually.”
“I know where we could score a joint.”
