Inside the apartment Jenny hugged me. “Tyler will take care of everything—he has a friend who works for a vet.”
“What are they going to do with him?” I said, squinting. In Ann Arbor we buried our dogs in the back yard; in New York that wasn’t an option.
“They’ll cremate him and bring you the ashes, but don’t worry about that right now. Do you want me to call Will?”
“No,” I said sullenly. “I’ll call him later.” I knew Will was going to take it hard too, and I wanted to spare him that while he was away. I had no intention of calling him later.
I looked at Martha and Jenny and thanked them as tears continued pouring from my eyes. “You guys can go; I’m okay. I just want to be alone.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, we’re not leaving you alone,” Jenny said.
“No really, I’m serious. I just want to cry alone, please.” They looked at each other and then back at me. “Please,” I said again.
They stood there, paralyzed, until Martha broke the silence. “We’ll be in the café, close by.” I fell into her arms and sobbed on her shoulder. “Oh my Mia Pia, poor girl. First your Pops and now Jackson.”
I let out a loud cry. When I could finally speak I said, “Please, I’m fine, I just need to be alone. I love you guys.”
After they left I went and threw on some underwear and one of Will’s white Tshirts. I could barely handle being in my room where both my father and Jackson died, so I went and curled up on Will’s bed and cried myself to sleep at two in the afternoon.
I woke up several hours later, surrounded by darkness and feeling as desolate as the apartment looked. It was nine o’clock and I wondered how I would get through the night. I yearned for Will and it was worse being in his bed, surrounded by his things.
I went to the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine, attempting to numb the pain. Of course, half a bottle down and nothing was numb. If anything, I had become more of a raw nerve. I sat at the piano and played “Wild Horses” over and over, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, while the tears ebbed and flowed. Just before midnight, I closed the cover on the piano and put my head down. I cried tears I didn’t know I had. My head ached. I drenched tissue after tissue as I cried for my dog and my father and for Will too.
I was in that moment right as you fall asleep, when your body relaxes slightly and your hazy thoughts become a dream. I jolted awake when I heard someone coming up the stairwell. Without looking or caring, I swung the door open and stood face to face with my angel, except that he looked like a mere mortal that night. He was thinner than before, his eyes were bloodshot, and he shivered beneath his thin, black sweatshirt. His head was down; the top of his hoody came to rest just above his sad, dark eyes, which peered at me through narrow slits. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets as he shifted nervously.
Taking a deep breath, he leaned to the side, looking past me into the apartment. “You alone?” I nodded and took a step back. He must have felt awful, wondering if I had another man over, comforting me. He picked up a small bag off the ground and walked in, kicking the door shut as he stared into my puffy eyes.
“Aw, baby, I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around my shoulders, bringing me into his chest.
I tried to form a coherent sentence. “How… why… how are you here?” I thought I must have been dreaming, but he felt so real and he smelled like Will and he sounded like Will and God, how I wanted it to be Will.
“Tyler called me. I got on the first flight back. You should have called me.”
I broke the hug and reached my hands up to his face. He sucked in a sharp breath and bit his bottom lip. Pushing his hood back, I studied his beautiful mouth while I tried to collect myself enough to talk. But I couldn’t, I just stood there expressionless, in shock, as tears ran steadily down my cheeks. I wasn’t sobbing. In fact I was barely breathing, but the tears wouldn’t stop.
He looked at me with a pained expression. “Why didn’t you call me?”