I SAT IN FRONT OF the computer, messing around with the days’ footage. I was in a funk. I couldn’t find my rhythm, even with reviewing the sound bite from Basil’s earlier interview.
Pushing the mouse from me, I decided to go for a walk. Being alone with my thoughts was dangerous. Especially when I’d memorized the number to the diner. I wouldn’t stoop to stalking. If he wanted to change his number, then so be it. Maybe it wasn’t as real as he thought it was.
Then why does it burn so bad?
I found a path that led through the woods and followed it, taking in the crisp, clean air. I felt like I could breathe there. Like all the bad in the world couldn’t touch this place. That was when I spotted James a few yards ahead, staring up at one of the hundreds of trees.
I twisted to leave, but he must have heard me because he turned in my direction.
“Wait,” he said. It was a small plea. A white flag I couldn’t ignore.
I finished crossing the space between us and stopped beside him.
We stood there for a while, not saying anything to one another. Truthfully, I didn’t know what to say. It kind of felt like that night, so many years ago, when he’d opened up during the party.
“Have you ever been hurt by someone so deeply, you couldn’t find the will to forgive them?” he asked, searching my face.
His questions hit me square in the chest. “Yes,” I said before I could think to say anything else.
He nodded, and then faced the lake. I realized then he was hurting. Maybe because of his father. It was why he’d needed to leave the room after Basil’s interview.
“My father,” I said after a moment, assuming he was talking about his. Sometimes, the only way to reach someone was to open personal wounds in front of them and share in their feelings.
He focused on me again, his eyes blurred with tears. There was an honesty in their depths that couldn’t be ignored. He wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met before. He wasn’t scared to feel. He wasn’t scared to admit he was feeling, and I was drawn to that. I felt safe inside it.
Safe enough to let him in.
“I’ve never forgiven him,” I continued, feeling the wounds peeling open again. “Honestly, I’ve never had the chance. The last time we spoke was a few years back when I called him on his birthday. I think the call lasted around a minute. Long enough for the brother I’ve never met to start crying. He hung up, saying he had to go take care of him.” I snorted. “For so long, I wondered what I did wrong. Why his paternal instinct never kicked in when it came to me, and you know what?”
He waited, emotions swimming deep in his eyes.
“I realized it isn’t my fault. And you know when I realized that?”
“When?”
“During Basil’s interview. He was right, James. The pain in our pasts that we hold close to our hearts is weighing us down.” I paused as it dawned on me. “You know, I think I’ve held onto the hurt from my father for so long that in some ways, I need it. Crave it like a drug, because it justifies every bad decision I make. There’s a certain comfort in being able to point my finger at the hurt that caused me to make a bad decision, rather than pointing that finger at myself. I know what I need to do; I just need to find the courage to do it.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Forgive him.”
“And then what?”
“Well, you can forgive and start over, or you can forgive and let them go. That’s the part I have to figure out first.”
He stared at me for a moment, and I watched as something shifted in his eyes. Whatever he was holding onto, it was beginning to crumble so the light could finally shine through. He closed his eyes and tilted his head to the sky, a smile unfolding on his lips.
He was strange, but in a good way.
“I think Basil should be our primary subject,” I said a moment later.
His smile rose out of the ground like a sunflower. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“His story is interesting, and if we can get him to trust us, maybe we can get him to dig deeper and let us in his life enough to score an interview with his wife or his son. Get both sides of the story on how living this lifestyle affects everyone involved.”
Without a warning, he stepped into my space and pulled me into a hug. I was tense at first, but then slowly melted into it. It was the kind of hug that said thank you. It said—you and I… we’re on the same sinking ship, and it’s time we swam for shore.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and let him hang on for as long as he needed to, even when he began to violate my personal-space policy. There was something about James that made it okay for me to break that rule.
“I’m glad you’re here, Hartley,” he said against my ear. “No matter what… always give me the truth. Always be real with me.” His breath was warm, and his voice felt too close. Felt like Hudson’s smoky words leaving his lips. Felt like I was in Hudson’s arms.
I pulled out of the hug. Folded and then unfolded my arms.
“Relax,” he said with a smirk. “You’re cool with me.”
Cool.
“I’ll talk with Basil, see about getting him to sign on,” he said. “See you in the morning?”
I nodded and walked off.