CHAPTER 6
Lucas was true to his word, so a couple days later when my phone buzzed, I was surprised to see his name at the top of the screen.
AVERY’S COMING TO SEE YOU. TRY NOT TO BE A DICK.
I stared at Lucas’ text message for a solid minute before dropping the phone back to the floor next to the couch and pulling a pillow over my face. I hadn’t seen Avery in a week, not since I’d walked out on her at the hospital. Every time I thought of calling, I decided it was too soon. I didn’t know what to say to her. Maybe I never would.
TRY NOT TO BE A DICK.
I could do that. I could try, anyway. The pillow flew through the air as I heaved myself off the couch and crossed to the huge windows on the other side of the room. The curtains were drawn as they’d been for days, but I parted them now and looked outside, taking in the way the wind swept across the water. This is why I’d bought the place — the turn of the century brick juxtaposed with the fully restored architecture and wide expanse of windows looking out over a blue horizon encompassed everything I was looking for. A solid foundation with something new, something unexpected. I wasn’t sure why that was important to me, I just knew that it was.
What would I say to Avery? What would she want to know? The questions swam through my mind while I kept my eyes on the gray sky outside. I could avoid everything forever or I could try not to be a dick and face today. The options were equally appealing and unlikely.
When the intercom buzzed it startled me even though I expected it. Walking toward the door felt like moving forward, like I was headed in the right direction both literally and metaphorically, but it was slow going. The box buzzed again and I imagined her downstairs, wondering if I’d be an ass, wondering if I would respond at all. If I didn’t, it probably wouldn’t surprise her.
“Yes?” That word sounded like I didn’t know it was her, but even if Lucas hadn’t given me the heads up, who else could it be? He was pissed at me and on his way back to California anyway, and I didn’t get any other visitors.
Her voice crackled through the speaker timidly. “Fox? It’s Avery. Can I come up?”
I rested my head against the intercom for a minute. I wanted to see her… and I also dreaded it. How could the same person make me want to run away from her and toward her at the same time? Before I could change my mind, I slapped the button with my hand, allowing her entry.
Shoving back away from the wall, I glanced down at my clothes. I’d showered… yesterday? That seemed right. Not that it mattered. Suddenly, the idea of Avery in my space made me feel vulnerable, exposed. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I grabbed my keys and stepped into the hallway, intending to wait for her there.
The elevator dinged, signaling her arrival, and I took a deep breath as I leaned against the doorway of the condo.
Avery stepped out of the elevator, and in this setting, without the hospital and the machines and the constant, unrelenting pressure of life and death and decisions and everything I couldn’t control, I realized how beautiful she was. Too beautiful for me.
Her blond hair hung halfway down her back, loose and wild as she pushed it over her shoulder. I took her in from head to toe — long, pretty legs, clad in those tight black pants that girls were always wearing, her shirt oversized, soft, and colorful. Converse sneakers on her feet, glossy pink lips, big blue eyes. She looked young, optimistic, and happy to see me.
“Hi,” I said slowly. “I wasn’t expecting you.” That was a lie only because it was unfathomable that she’d still look at me like that, like I held her heart in my hands. Didn’t she know I didn’t deserve it?
“I know. I’m sorry for just dropping by. I— I wanted to see you. I missed you.” Her words socked me right in the stomach. Always honest, this girl. Always open.
I wavered on the edge of my resolution to push her away. TRY NOT TO BE A DICK. “Do you want to come in?”
She nodded, and I opened the door and stepped back so she could enter. The condo was dark, the only light coming from the large balcony off to the side of the living room — I’d closed the other curtains again. I tried to see the room through her eyes, a typical bachelor pad mess that was not my usual style. Blankets on the sofa, clothes and shoes on the floor, and dishes in the sink. Lucas was right — this wasn’t typical of me. But maybe it was now. How many repeats until something became a pattern?
I walked past her and cleared a space on the old brown couch. She sat and at the last minute I decided not to join her, instead walking over to the balcony and staring out, crossing my arms over my chest to ward off the uncomfortable feeling I had knowing that her eyes were following me.
“I know why you’re here.” My words reverberated through the silence. “I’m sorry I haven’t called.”
“It’s okay,” she said quickly. “You need space, like you said.”
“I don’t know what I need, Avery.” Saying her name was almost a guilty pleasure, and it felt familiar.
“Can I help you? Can I do anything for you?”
I shook my head, feeling the frustration of keeping her at arm’s length radiate off of me. I looked over and saw that she was looking down at her hands, her wedding ring glinting even in the dim, depressed light of the living room.
“Where do we go from here?” Her voice was soft, but it carried easily in the silence.
“I don’t know.” It was the only answer I had.
“You could talk to me. I’d listen to whatever you wanted to say.”
“I— I don’t think I can.” I wanted to. Fuck, I wanted to so badly.
“You don’t?” Her surprise was palpable, laced with disappointment. “Ever? Never?”
The idea of never, or always, was foreign to me at this point. Every day I felt like I was starting over, like I was learning new hard truths that I was forced to accept and then sit back and watch as those truths wreaked havoc over everything. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I couldn’t do what she asked. I couldn’t be who she wanted.
“Not right now.”
I heard her intake of breath, sharp, painful. “Okay.”
“You have to understand, Avery, I can’t—”
“No, Fox,” she interrupted me. “I don’t have to understand.” She got to her feet, brushing tears away with a slightly shaking hand. “I don’t have to understand why this happened, why you almost died, why you can’t remember me, and most of all why you don’t even fucking want to.”
“Avery—”
“I love you. I promised to love you forever and I don’t plan on breaking that promise any time soon.” She picked up her purse and clutched it to her chest. “But I can’t help you if you don’t let me. And I can’t keep feeling like this, like you’re crushing my heart every time you push me away.”
The sight of her standing there, proud, terrified, but so strong, burned into my brain and seeped into my heart, stirring something I hadn’t felt since I woke up in the hospital… something like hope. But as quickly as I felt it, it was gone again, replaced by the ever-present numbness.
“I don’t know what to say.” I never knew what to say to her, because everything sounded wrong.
Avery pushed her hair out of her face. “Tell me something true.”
“I don’t know who I am anymore.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, not just true but alarmingly so, because that was something I only admitted to myself, alone at night when I thought about the things that scared me the most.
Her eyes softened and she bit her lip, pulling the soft pink skin between her teeth. “I do.”
It would be so easy to open my arms to her right now, to draw her in like I had wanted to a thousand times, to pull her vitality to me and try to use it to jumpstart my body into living again. But I couldn’t do that when I didn’t know where it would lead and what it would mean for her and Annabelle. “You did,” I corrected her gently.
Avery shook her head firmly, like she could erase my words. “No. You’re still in there, I know you are. I just wish you believed it. Things might never change, Fox. I know that. You might never love me again, and that’s the hardest reality I’ve ever had to face. So instead of putting myself out there for you over and over while you reject me, I’m going to take a step back. I will be here if you need me, but you have to reach for me.”
Tears welled up in her eyes again, but this time she let them spill over her cheeks. “You have to reach for me, Fox. I can’t do it alone.”
* * *
After Avery left, I took a long shower, letting the hot water practically scald me until it chilled down to ice. I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d had since she turned and walked out, the one that told me I was making the biggest mistake of my life by letting her go.
It wasn’t until I walked into the kitchen to scrounge up something to eat that I saw the simple white envelope propped against an empty pizza box on the breakfast bar. Something jumped in my chest at the sight of my name scrawled in her even, pretty handwriting. She must’ve left it for me before she exited with tears in her eyes — just seconds after she’d told me that if I wanted her, I’d have to make the effort.
I knew that, of course, even without her saying it. Everything that was currently wrong with our relationship came from me. She’d done nothing but support me, whereas I’d just done nothing.
Uncertainty about the potential contents of the envelope made me attempt to ignore it for several long minutes as I stood in front of the refrigerator, staring blankly at the meager offerings inside. Cold pizza was an obvious choice, but along with it I made the conscious decision to grab a bottle of water instead of killing the rest of the six-pack of beer I’d bought yesterday.
I’d thought the final cold minutes of my shower would help me go back to the numbness that I’d started to lose when Avery’s eyes pierced straight through me and awakened something in my chest. It was a sensation I was trying to ignore but it wasn’t working now, and I had a feeling the beer wouldn’t do the job either.
For once, being numb wasn’t all that appealing. It was lonely. And although I’d once craved it, I was so fucking tired of feeling alone.
Dear Fox, the letter started. I pulled it out and read that opening line, the sheet of hotel stationery weighty in my hands. Her handwriting reminded me of her — simple, effortlessly beautiful.
If you’re reading this, it probably means that things didn’t go the way I wanted them to when I saw you today.
That would be the understatement of the year. My mind flashed to Avery’s hurt, tear-filled eyes.
Honestly, I didn’t expect it to go well, and that’s why I wrote you this letter, just in case I wasn’t able to say everything I wanted to. There’s so much I want to tell you, Fox. I don’t even know where to start, and every time I see you there’s a hundred more things that I think you should know — things that I would tell you if our lives were still the way they used to be, and things I think you should know about us as we are now.
I felt that. Every time we were together, she was holding back a little, no matter how open she seemed. Because now I was a stranger. Or at least, that’s how I treated her.
I’ve rewritten this so many times, trying to find a balance between unbelievably fucking sappy and objectively factual, but I can’t. It’s always been all-in with us, and any other way seems false. So I can only tell you about me, about how I feel, and hope that it’s enough.
My brow furrowed at the idea of Avery not being enough. She was more than I’d ever expected. It was terrifying and exciting at the same time.
I can be strong for you because of all the times you were strong for me. I understand that now. You showed me a determination that I didn’t know I had, far beyond what it takes to get out of bed every morning and plod toward a future that I couldn’t define. I knew unconditional love because of Annabelle — she’s always been the driving force behind everything I am, but I was so tired. You woke me up, Fox. You made every possibility real. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that.
I sat down heavily on a barstool. It felt like she was still here in the room with me. I could hear her voice in my head as my eyes scanned the paper.
I don’t think I’m qualified to tell our whole love story, not by myself, because you’re such a huge, vibrant part of everything I am that most days I don’t know where you end and I begin. You are in my heart because you are my heart — you and Annabelle. It beats for you both but it’s yours for the breaking. Please be careful with it. It’s the only one I have.
All the air rushed out of my lungs like she’d punched me right in the gut. She was killing me with every line.
And if this is all we ever are, if it never goes any farther than today — I’ll always be grateful for you. I love you. Don’t doubt that for a minute.
It was impossible for me to wrap my mind around this. The love I’d shared with Avery seemed beyond my comprehension, capable of enduring and lasting and inspiring her to write me letters like this one. How could I make her feel this strongly when I felt so empty? Did she really mean it?
So I sent one text, throwing it out there like a lifeline.
ALL TRUE?
Her response was almost immediate.
EVERY WORD.
I believed her, but it almost felt like she was saying goodbye. And I wasn't ready for that.