Page 56 of Single Girl in the City
She nodded. “My therapist said the dreams would get worse before they get better, but I never knew it would get this bad.” She settled against him, feeling soft and vulnerable in his arms. “I think Jenny knew the moment the bus stopped rolling that she was going to die. I didn’t know.” Her voice broke. “I didn’t know until the last minute, but she knew. And the part that gets me is, she was clearly at peace with it.” She pulled back to look him in the eye. “How come she was at peace with it, and I can’t get over it?”
Using his thumb, he brushed away her tears. “I read in a book that Death doesn’t haunt the dead, he haunts the people who loved them and were left behind.”
“Her last words to me were to be good.”
“Abi,” he whispered as she clung to him, making his gut clench.
That, right there, was why she did the things she did and why she was so adamant about helping people. Even when it’s hard, like with her sister or Ms. S, she followed through, putting her well-being last.
“I was in the hospital room alone when my dad passed,” he heard himself saying. “He was hooked up to a ventilator so he couldn’t talk, but he never took his eyes off me.”
She pulled back and cupped his jaw. “Where was your family?”
“Everyone had left the room to go to the cafeteria. We wanted my mom to take a break and eat something, so we took shifts staying with Dad. They hadn’t been gone more than a minute when he looked at me, took one last breath, and I watched the life drain right out of him. It was as if he were waiting for my mom to leave because he didn’t want her to see him die.”
“Owen.” Concern filled her eyes. “I am so sorry you were alone. At least I had the other teachers. No one should watch a loved one die like that.”
“I never knew Death was a tangible thing,” he said. “It has an energy of its own that drains the room the second someone dies.”
“That’s how it felt with Jenny. Like her passing left a void in the world that could never be filled.”
“I was thankful that I got to say goodbye, but over time this resentment built up. I was angry at my dad, angry at my brothers. I felt like everyone had left me to deal with the loss alone. We all mourned him, but my family couldn’t relate to what I’d gone through. It created this divide, with me on one side and my family on the other. Not that they knew.” Jesus, now that he was talking, he couldn’t seem to shut up. He’d never admitted how those last few moments affected the entire course of his life to anyone. But talking to Abi about it felt right.
“Is that why you took over the bar?”
He nodded. “I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he looked at me, all that love and pride directed at me. None of my brothers were in any position to step up, so I did. There was a reason he waited for it to be me, and I couldn’t get it out of my head that maybe that was why.”
She ran her fingers through his hair. “Do you regret taking over the bar?”
“No,” he said without hesitation.
“Do you ever wonder what your life would have been like if you hadn’t taken over?” There was something in her tone that he couldn’t quite decipher.
“Every day. Don’t get me wrong, I love working at my dad’s desk, stepping into his shoes, and watching the thing he was the proudest of grow and succeed.”
Her expression went soft. “You were the thing he was the proudest of, Owen.You.”
Her words brought on an onslaught of emotions. Complicated and concerning. He’d told himself not to get too involved, to keep things simple, but there was nothing simple about the way he felt. He could not only trust her with the bar, he could trust her with his secrets and that created an intimacy that wouldn’t be good for either of them, since he’d already decided to keep things uncomplicated.
“My dad was too trustworthy, and people took advantage of that. So when he got sick, the family decided that someone had to be there to oversee things. That someone was me.”
“Sometimes when the house is quiet and I’m alone with my thoughts, there is this overwhelming anger at Jenny for leaving me the way she did. I know rationally that it was no one’s fault, but in here,” she touched her heart, “I wonder why she didn’t fight harder.”
That was exactly how he felt about his dad. Why did he wait until it was just him to finally give in to the inevitable? “I don’t know if I should be honored my dad chose me or if I should be angry.”
“Does it get any easier?” she whispered.
“Honestly? No,” he said, and she settled herself against his chest again, resting her head on his shoulder, her feet tucked under her as she sat on his lap. “But eventually the good memories begin to outweigh the bad and the anger fades, but the loss never fully goes away. It just becomes more distant, like a faded memory.”
“I don’t want it to fade,” she whispered. “I’m already starting to forget her voice.”
“Sometimes I pull out the emails he sent me while I was away at college just to remember the way he worded things or his sense of humor.”
“I’m sorry we share this.” This time when she looked at him there was something new in her eyes. Awareness.
Her fingers spanned to cover the place right above his heart and her gaze dropped to his lips. Which was a-okay with him since he was having the same affliction. Then they were both moving closer, their mouths nearly touching. They both went in for the kiss, twice, their lips a breath apart, their eyes locked.
Neither looked away and neither backed away. But when they went in for the third time, he knew he was going to kiss her and they’d end up sleeping together. And that would be a mistake.
