Chapter Twenty-Nine

Ethan

I've been back with Becca for a week now and things are better than ever. As hard as it was to be apart from her all those weeks, I needed that time to get my shit together.

When I first met Becca, she was a glimmer of light in my darkness. I craved that light, but whenever she wasn't with me, it would go away. And when she left for good, it was gone.

I realized then that I couldn't rely on her for that. If I wanted to be with her, I had to find my own way out of the darkness. Becca gave me hope that things could eventually get better but I had to get there by myself. I know that frustrated her because she was so desperate to help but what she doesn't understand is that she did help me. If she hadn't shown up in my life, I'd still be consumed with guilt, unable to move forward.

I still struggle with the guilt and the pain and the loss of my friends, but I'm a lot better than I was. I've been confiding in Mike since that day he came over here and he's really helped me. When we first met, I thought the guy hated me for dating his sister, and he probably did, but now it's almost like we're brothers.

Mike is such an inspiration. He's been to hell and back. The things he's seen—shit, I can't even imagine. And yet he's so damn positive. Whenever I'm feeling sorry for myself, I just think of Mike and what he's been through and what he's lost, and I realize how lucky I am.

As for sharing things with Becca, I'm still not there yet. I've talked to her a little about the accident and how I've struggled to move on, but I haven't told her everything. I haven't even told her about Kasey's mom calling me that day. That phone call still haunts me. I can still hear her crying.

My phone rings and I stare at the number, my heart pounding. It's her. Kasey's mom. Did she know I was thinking about her? Why is she calling? Why won't she leave me alone? Things are going so well. I can't do this again. I can't keep reliving the accident.

"Hello," I answer.

"Ethan, it's Lisa. Kasey's mom."

"Hi." I clear my throat.

"Sorry to call again, but I thought you'd like to know that we're having a special remembrance service for Kasey this weekend. Next Saturday would've been her twenty-first birthday and we wanted to do something special, so some of her high school friends organized this event to remember her. It'll be here in Indianapolis, so I understand if you can't make it, but I wanted you to know."

Why is she telling me this? If she doesn't expect me to go, she wouldn't have called.

I hate this. The never-ending guilt. I've been trying to forgive myself, not blame myself for what happened, and now I feel guilty again. Like I'm a bad person if I don't go to the service.

I know I should go, but I don't know if I can. I don't know if I can be surrounded by photos of Kasey looking happy and smiling and full of life, hearing what great a person she was, being surrounded by all her friends who'll be looking at me as though her death was my fault. The guy who didn't buckle her in her seat. The guy Kasey saved with her life.

Lisa's waiting for me to say something. I can't promise her I'll go so I say, "I'll think about it. I'm not sure if I'll be able to be there."

"I understand. I don't expect you to. But maybe you could keep Kasey in your thoughts on Saturday."

"Of course. I definitely will."

"Thank you, Ethan, for thinking of her. Goodbye."

She hangs up before I can tell her goodbye. I think she was on the verge of crying again so she hurried off the phone.

She's still suffering. Drowning in her grief. She probably will be for years to come.

Guilt comes flooding over me again, filling me with anger, loss, regret.

"Hey." I look up and see Becca walking in. She's been staying here at my apartment all week. I'm thinking of asking her to move in but I know she'll turn me down. She's not ready for that yet. She'll say it's too soon, and maybe it is. I'm still trying to work on myself, and after that call just now, it's clear I still have more work to do.

One call from Kasey's mom and I feel like shit.

Becca drops a sack of groceries on the kitchen counter, then joins me on the couch, sitting on my lap and giving me a hug, then a kiss.

"I got everything for dinner," she says, smiling. "Did Jackson say what time they're coming over?"

Jackson and a few of my other teammates are coming here for dinner. My apartment has some grills outside for the tenants to use so we're having a cookout. It was Becca's idea. She's trying to get to know my friends. I think she's also doing it because she wants me to be more social. She knows I still struggle sometimes and she worries I'll go back to isolating myself from my friends, which is exactly what I feel like doing right now. I don't want to be around anyone.

"I think he said seven," I tell her.

"That'll work. I got burgers to grill and I stopped at The Chicken Shack and picked up some sides. Max said to tell you hi."

I lift Becca off my lap and stand up. "I'm going to take a shower."

"You just took one before I left." She smiles. "Or did you mean with me? Because I'm totally up for that." She gets up and kisses me.

"I'm sore from lifting weights. I just want to stand under the hot water."

"Oh." She backs away. "Okay."

She looks at me, and I know she senses something's wrong. I can't hide it from her. She knows me too well.

"What happened?" she asks.

"Nothing," I lie. I want to tell her. I do. I just can't make myself do it.

"Ethan, sit down." She takes my hand but I pull it away.

"Not now."

"Why?"

"I need some time."

"Time to what?" I hear a hint of anger in her voice. "What's going on?" 

"Becca, you told me you wouldn't push."

"I know but I feel like we're going back to how things were."

"That's not true. I've been opening up to you. Telling you things. You can't say that isn't progress."

"It is, and it's a step forward, but right now, I feel like we're stepping back."

I sigh. "Stop making this into something bigger than it is. I just need some time."

She nods, then heads to the door. "I'm gonna go."

"Go where?"

"Home. If you need time, then I'm taking time too. Call me when you're ready to talk."

"Becca, wait." I meet her at the door.

"What?" she snaps.

"You're walking out on me? Again?"

"We're still dating. I just can't keep watching you do this to yourself. And when you won't let me help, or even just tell me what's wrong, I get angry. And I don't like being angry at you."

"I don't want to be angry at you either. So stay, and just give me some time."

Her shoulders drop and she sighs. "Ethan, I don't know what that means. Give you time to what? Lock yourself in your room, feeling sad? Depressed? Hating yourself? Going back and reliving that night?" She takes my hand. "Why do you do this to yourself? And why won't you let me be there for you?"

I don't give her an answer.

She lets go of my hand and shakes her head. "I don't know if I can do this, Ethan."

"Do what?"

"I love you, but...I don't know if I can be with you when you're like this. I know I said I wouldn't push you to talk to me but I shouldn't have to. You should want to talk to me. You talk to Mike, so why can't you talk to me?"

"It's not the same," I mutter.

"Why?"

"It just isn't."

She hesitates, then says, "Then don't call me until it is."

"What does that mean?"

"I can't be with you until you're able to talk to me. I'm sorry, Ethan. I thought I could do this, but I can't. I love you too much to watch you suffer and not be able to help."

And then she turns and walks out the door.

Shit. She can't leave. I can't lose her. Not again.

"Becca!" I go out in the hall but don't see her. Where the hell did she go? She left two seconds ago. The elevator couldn't have shown up that fast. Maybe she took the stairs. I go to the stairwell and race down the stairs. "Becca!"

I still can't find her. She must already be outside. Damn, she's fast, especially when she's angry. I go outside and find her walking to her van, which is parked across the street.

"Becca, wait!" I run after her.

She turns around, her keys in her hand. "Ethan, I don't want to..."

As she's talking, a car veers around the corner heading straight for her. Holy shit! I race into the street and shove her out of the way as the driver in the car swerves and honks his horn.

I'm lying on the grass near the sidewalk, clutching Becca in my arms. She almost got hit. She could've been killed. And it would've been because of me. Because I distracted her when she was crossing the street.

"Are you all right?" I ask, not letting her go.

"Yeah." She's out of breath. "I didn't see that guy coming."

"He came from around the corner, going way too fast."

She softly smiles. "You saved me."

"I almost got you killed." I hug her against me. "God, I'm so sorry."

"Ethan, it wasn't your fault." She pulls back. "I'm the one who stopped in the street. You've gotta stop blaming yourself."

"I'm the one who made you stop. If you'd been hit, it would've been my fault."

"Stop saying that. Nothing is your fault. Accidents happen."

She looks up at me and just being near her, holding her, calms me. My heart rate returns to normal as I come down from the adrenaline rush that shot through my veins when I saw that car heading toward Becca. 

"I can't lose you," I tell her.

"You're not losing me. I just think you need more time to work things out before we can be together."

"I don't want more time. I know I still need to work through things but...I want to do it with you. I don't want to do it alone."

"But you said—"

"I know what I said. But I was wrong. I can't do this alone. I've tried and I'm better than I was, but that's only because I've had your brother to talk to. But I need more. I need you. You were there during some of my darkest moments, and even though you don't know it, you were the reason I got through those moments. I looked forward to you coming over, even when you were just coming over to clean. You think you haven't helped me, Becca, but you have. You have no idea how much you've helped me."

"But you still won't talk to me."

I stand up, and offer her my hands. "Let's go upstairs."

She takes my hands and I help her up. "What are we doing?"

"We're going to talk."

When we're back in my apartment, I tell her things I haven't told her before. About the nightmares, the flashbacks, the guilt I still hold onto. Then I tell her about the first call I got from Kasey's mom, then the one I got just this morning.

"I don't know what to do," I say to Becca, referring to the remembrance service. "I feel like I should go but I don't know if I can."

"Would it help you to go? Or are you only going because you think you have to?"

I shake my head. "I don't know. I really don't."

"I can't decide this for you, Ethan, but if you go, I'll go with you. If you want me there."

"You'd really do that?"

"Ethan, I told you, I'd do anything to help you get through this." She pauses. "Would doing this help you say goodbye?"

"Yeah." I nod. "It would."

"Then do it. You need to tell her goodbye."

"But what if it ends up making everything worse?"

"It won't. I think you need this, Ethan. You need to say goodbye to them. Not just Kasey, but Jason and Lyndsay too. You were in the hospital during their funerals so you never got to say goodbye. I think that's a big reason why you haven't been able to get past this. The last memory you have of them is from that night. You need a new memory. One where you remember them being celebrated for their lives. That's what this service for Kasey will be."

I nod, because I think she's right. "So I guess we're going to Indiana."

"What about Jason? Do you know his family?"

"Yeah. They live a few hours from here. I went home with him a few times."

"And you haven't talked to them since..."

"No. I think they were afraid to call me. And I was afraid to call them."

"We could go there. You could call his parents and we could drive there and see them. Do you think they'd be okay with that?"

"They'd probably be happy about it. In fact, I should've done it before now. I should've at least called them."

"You weren't ready to. But I think you are now. And I think it'd be good for you, and his parents. What about Lyndsay?"

"She's from Nebraska. I don't know that much about her. And I've never met her family."

"I could track down their number and you could call them."

"I don't know what I'd say."

"You tell them their daughter was a friend of yours and then you offer your condolences. It doesn't seem like much but it'll give you closure. And I'm sure her parents would appreciate it."

"What if they blame me for what happened? What if they're mad at me for surviving instead of their daughter?"

"Ethan, nobody blames you." She looks me in the eye. "And nobody, not a single person on the face of this earth, is mad at you for surviving." She squeezes my hand. "Except you."

I feel a tear run down my face, and then another. Crying is something I almost never do, and definitely not in front of anyone.

"Ethan." Becca wraps her arms around me and I hold onto her as more tears let loose. I don't bother trying to hide them. With anyone else, I would, but not with Becca. She's the only person I trust to see me like this. Exposing my pain. My hurt. My guilt.

Opening up to her was one of the hardest things I've ever done, but it felt damn good. I no longer have to hide everything and hold it inside. I can let her see it. Let her help me. Let her love me, as much as I love her.

"I love you," I tell her as we lie in bed later, after having sex, of course.

She smiles. "I love you too."

I turn on my side, facing her. "So how are you as a travel companion?"

"I don't know. I haven't really traveled much. Why?"

"We're going out of town next weekend. It'll be our first trip together. I wondered if you're someone who sleeps on the plane, reads a book, talks the whole time."

"Sadly, I've never been on a plane. I've only been on car trips."

"You've never once been on a plane?"

"Nope. Next weekend will be my first time."

"First of many."

"What do you mean?"

"When I'm playing pro ball, you'll be flying to see all my games."

"I will?"

"Wives always travel to games."

She coughs and her eyes get huge. "Excuse me? Wife?"

I laugh. "Girlfriend. I said wife just to see how you'd react. And it was priceless. Hilarious. You should've seen how big your eyes got."

She rolls them at me, smiling.

"So for the record, what's your opinion on marriage?"

"I'm never doing it."

"Never?" I ask, surprised.

"Nope."

"You know when people make absolute statements like that, it usually backfires and they end up doing exactly what they said they wouldn't do. Hence the never-say-never phrase."

"I've seen too many marriages fail. Why bother getting married if you're just going to get divorced?"

"Half of marriages don't end in divorce."

"And half do."

"I thought you were a glass-half-full type of girl."

"On most things, yes. Not on marriage. Speaking of marriage, specifically weddings, my mom's going to be here next weekend to set up a wedding at that hotel we had brunch at. Apparently she gave management her card when she was here and they called her to do this wedding."

"Are you gonna go see her?"

She sighs. "I feel like I should."

"I can go with you if you want."

"Really? Because I could really use you there."

"You help me, I help you. That's how it works." I pull her warm, naked body against mine and kiss her neck. "Like right now, how about I help you into the shower?"

"I don't need a shower."

"I think you do." I sniff her. "Your hair smells like chicken."

She pushes me back. "Liar! I didn't even go to work today."

"Must be from last night. Either way, you need a shower. And I insist on helping you." I kiss her, then smack her ass. "Shower. Now."

She laughs. "Okay, I'm going."

I watch her cute little naked body scurry off to the bathroom. God, I love that girl. I convinced her to stay the night, but I'm hoping to convince her to stay longer than that. I want her to move in with me. And I wasn't joking about the wife thing. Someday I want to marry her. It'll take a while to get her to say yes, given her stance against marriage and the fact that she's so damn stubborn, but I've changed her mind before. I can do it again.