I take another deep breath, then push up onto my elbow, still meeting his gaze. “Because of Daniel,” I finally say.
“What?” he says, abruptly sitting up and leaning against the headboard. “What does that mean?”
I sit up and face him, searching for the right words, wanting them to be honest but gentle. “I just mean…we were there on that field, the two of us, alone….But it was like Daniel was there with us…and I just felt…” I shake my head, my voice trailing off because there is simply no gentle way to put it.
“You felt what?” he asks.
“I just felt that I should say yes. Because of Daniel,” I say again, knowing we are going in circles. “Sort of in his memory.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Nolan says, putting both hands to his temples like his mind is being blown. “You’re telling me that you married me because your brother died in a car accident?”
“That’s not what I said,” I stammer, but then realize that he has accurately paraphrased my answer, boiled things down to their essence. If Nolan had popped the question while my brother was still alive, off doing his residency somewhere, then he probably wouldn’t have entered my head at all. Nor would I have considered my parents, who had also factored heavily into my answer.
“Well, then. Please explain,” he says, shaking his head in disbelief.
“C’mon, Nolan,” I say, going on the offensive. “Are you honestly going to sit there and tell me that you would have dated me if Daniel hadn’t died?”
He gives me an incredulous look. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? You think I dated you out of pity?”
“Not pity,” I say. “But…” I look up at the ceiling, trying to articulate what I’ve always felt to be true.
“But what, Meredith?”
“I just think we got together because of Daniel.”
“What does that mean? ‘Because of Daniel, because of Daniel,’?” he says, imitating me, his voice growing louder. “You keep saying that, but I have no idea what that means!”
“Yes, you do!” I say, raising my voice back at him.
“No! I really don’t, actually.”
I swallow, breathe, and try to calm down before I explain. “Well. For starters, you wouldn’t have played golf with my dad that day you picked me up from the airport…or asked me out…or slept with me that next night…or flown up to see me a week later….None of that would have happened if Daniel had been alive.”
“But, Meredith, that’s just…circumstances,” he says. “That’s like saying that a married couple who met in a bar wouldn’t be together if one of them hadn’t gone to the bar.”
I shake my head. “No. It’s not the same thing at all.” I bury my face in my hands and catch my breath, before looking back up at him. “I think we were both searching for meaning.”
“Oh, Christ, Meredith. Is this Amy talking? Or you?”
“It’s both,” I say. “I said it first, but she agrees with me….You asked me to marry you, and I said yes, because we both wanted the silver lining to a terrible tragedy. Daniel’s best friend marries Daniel’s sister. Happily-ever-after can’t ever happen—not with him gone…but this is the closest we can come—”
“That’s horseshit,” he says, cutting me off, roughly throwing aside the covers, then getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom.
He slams the door, but I can still hear him urinating, then flushing, then running water. A long minute later, he emerges, wearing workout clothes. The neck of his T-shirt is wet, along with his hairline, and I can tell that he’s just splashed water on his reddened face.
He looks at me for several long seconds, holding on to the bedpost, then says, “I asked you to marry me because I loved you.” His voice is low and calm, but unsteady. “Not because Daniel died.”
“Okay,” I say, nodding. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to upset you.”
“Well, that strategy isn’t working,” he says, dropping his hand to his side. At first I think he’s referring to how upset he is currently, but then he clarifies. “You don’t say yes to a marriage proposal because you think saying no will upset someone.”
I try to interrupt him, but he continues. “And you don’t say yes because you happen to share a tragic story with someone, either. In fact, most people who share a tragic story end up splitting. Look at your parents.”
“I know, Nolan. I’m really sorry. I just thought I should tell you…I thought you should know….”
“Okay, Meredith. Well, now I know,” he says. “So what am I supposed to do with this information? More than seven years later? What do you want?”
“I want…Daniel back,” I finish, suddenly hating myself more than Nolan ever could.
He throws up his hands in utter disgust. “Well, we can’t have that, Meredith. So short of a resurrection—or…or going back to 2001 in a time machine, what do you want?”
“I want to figure this out,” I say as meekly as I’ve ever said anything.
“How?” he shouts.