“Okay,” he said as he tentatively wrapped his arms around me. “That’s okay. That’s good.”
“You don’t even know who I’m talking about,” I wailed.
“You’re talking about Sean, Sweet Pea. I know better than anyone how much you’ve taken care of him. Of course it’s Sean.” He pressed me to his chest, holding me together so I didn’t have to do it on my own.
“What if he’s not okay? He almost killed himself.”
“But he didn’t, right?”
I shook my head. “He hadn’t even woken up when I left. I just left him there in the hospital with no one.”
“You did the best you could for as long as you could. What happens next isn’t up to you.”
“I used to be so mad at Debbie. I blamed her for walking away. I thought she did it to punish Sean, but that wasn’t it. That wasn’t it at all. She just had to save herself.”
“Come in, Sweet Pea. It’s going to be okay.”
We sat in his living room and I cried into his chest.
I ended up sleeping on his couch, unwilling to go home to my lonely apartment.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The moment that beauty broke open
And poured out despair
The moment I learned the cost of joy
Was greater than I could bear
Her eyes never spoke to me again,
Not the way they had always been
When years were few
And wisdom was a horizon unseen
I spoke words without knowing
Like daggers they went,
Piercing the heart of the innocent
She was the innocent
Only now in life’s rearview mirror
Can I see the scars she bears
When a U-turn seems too little too late
I beg forgiveness and cry into her hair
I’m here, sweet angel
I’ve got a shoulder where you can cry
My love for you’s forever
Just please don’t ask me why
I left you
—Sean Amity
CHAPTER TWELVE
The next day, I tried to un-Sean my life.
Part of that involved blocking and then deleting Sean’s and Randy’s contact information. It involved taking the credit card I used for Sean-related travel and cutting it up. I even managed to do it without crying, which was an improvement. I was so tired of crying.
It was tempting to run back to Jonas right away, but I didn’t. I didn’t call him that first day. My heart was too broken for that. It took time to put myself back together enough that I felt human again.
Naomi called me as I was putting away newspaper clippings and other mementos of his success I had collected over the years. I wouldn’t throw it away, but I needed it out of sight.
“Hey,” I answered.
“Hey. How are you holding up? Is Sean all right?”
I breathed deep and blew it out. “I don’t know.”
“You can’t talk about it?”
“Actually, I really don’t know. I’ve”—I cleared the emotion from my throat—”I’ve removed myself from the situation.” My voice tapered off at the end, turning into a whisper.
Silence reigned for several moments, and then, “Wow.”
“Yeah.”
“Have lunch with me?”
“Yes.” Maybe if I downloaded on her, I could let go of some of the baggage that clung to me.
Since Naomi had confessed the identity of her father, she invited me to her house. No need to sit in a public restaurant and discuss information that reporters would be salivating over.
Naomi lived in a gated neighborhood, but other than that, it was a fairly regular suburban house.
When she opened the door, it was with open arms. She gave me a huge hug and then ushered me into the dining room where lunch was already laid out. I suspected a professional cook lingered somewhere in the house, but I didn’t ask.
“All right,” Naomi said before I even had my butt in my chair. “Tell me everything.”
My shoulders slumped as I sat there, turning up my hands in defeat. “I couldn’t do it anymore. I was in the middle of an idyllic evening with Jonas, and I ran out in the middle of it. I was there in that hospital for Sean, and he didn’t even know it, because he was unconscious. Maybe he’s still unconscious, I don’t know.” I swallowed with difficulty. “But I just…can’t.”
She gave me a sad smile. “That’s going to be hard for you.”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Do you think you can stay away?”
“I have to.”
She tilted her head just a little. “Why?” It wasn’t an argumentative why, just a curious one.
“Because I was giving him everything. And he gave me nothing.” I hated those words. I felt like they weren’t true. I could have given many examples of how he had saved me, been a friend, held me up. And yet… “At