I wonder if things would’ve been different if I’d walked down those steps with Angela. Would I have stopped her when she ran for her train? Would I’ve been able to grab her as she fell down the stairs? Would I have been able to stop her from dying? Like I said, I heard a yell, but that was all. I’m just really glad I didn’t hear the crack of her neck, breaking as she fell down the stairs. Selfish of me I know, considering I was the reason she was even there in the first place.
When Angela died, it took me a long time to work out why. I couldn’t understand how a woman I’d barely known could die as a result of me. I’d always thought it only happened to those I loved, the ones who got close to me, those people who really meant something to me. And I was very scared it was now going to start happening to anyone around me.
But in the end I realised what it was. In the end I realised that in fact I did love Angela, but in a different way to what I’d previously known. Yes she was my therapist, but more than that, she was a mentor, a role model, someone who was helping me a great deal, more than I ever expected. And to be honest she was a woman who had everything I didn’t, a woman who was in control of her life, her emotions and her future.
And in the end I realised she was everything I wanted to be.
And that’s what had killed her.
∞
We walk out into the morning. The fresh air is helping. I can no longer smell the intoxicating aroma of freshly showered Luke. The butterflies that seem to permanently live in my stomach now, are slowly starting to calm down.
We keep walking and Luke doesn’t ask me where we’re going. Instead we talk about music, a new album Luke’s bought, which he thinks I might like. There’s a song on there he’d like the band to do a cover of. When we reach the train station, he still doesn’t say anything as we walk down the stairs and I buy us two tickets. When the train arrives he follows me to a seat and slides in beside me. His shoulder is touching mine and I don’t move away. Neither does Luke.
We spend most of the train ride talking about music again. There’s a festival Luke wants to go to. He actually suggests we go together and I don’t even think about, I just smile and say yes. Then about eight minutes from our stop, I turn to him and say, "It’s one of my favourite places for breakfast."
He just nods and says, "Sounds good Ash."
"I’m from Providence," I continue, by way of explanation.
"LA," Luke says. "Although I haven’t been back in nearly eight years."
"Yeah I’ve hardly been back either." I say quietly.
Dad used to take me to this place all the time, me and Seth whenever he was around. For some reason though, I never once took Sam there. I don’t know why, maybe because we never lived in Providence together. Although it doesn’t appear that’s reason enough to stop me now and I don’t want to think about what me bringing Luke here might really mean.
I’m staring out the window, watching as we approach the station in silence. I don’t look at Luke, but I do smile when he gently squeezes my hand.
When we walk out of the station, the sun is shining and it’s going to be a beautiful day. I almost expect to see Dad waiting for me, for us. But of course he isn’t, so instead, I turn left and we walk up the hill towards Brown. The place feels at once so familiar and so distant. Nothing much has changed since I left, nothing except for me.
When we reach Thayer Street, I turn right and we walk a little way until I find it. Inside everything is as I remember it. We are seated at a table by the window. I don’t even have to look at the menu to know what I’m having. I always used to have the same thing.
After we order and our coffees arrive, I finally speak to Luke. "So, is your family still out in LA?"
I see a quick grimace cross his face. "Yeah my parents are, but Mia as you know, lives in Chicago."
I briefly wonder if he doesn’t want to talk about it, but I ask anyway. "And you don’t go and visit them?"
His hand runs over his head again. "Nah, I don’t really get on with my parents anymore. I mean we haven’t really spoken in seven or eight years actually. Mia and I are close obviously, but not my parents and me."
I wonder why. I feel like I’m prying by asking, so instead I surprise myself by saying, "Both of my parents are dead, my brother too."
"Oh shit Ash, I’m so sorry," he says immediately, his hand reaching out to take mine as though it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I can’t even remember what I just said to him. I’m aware of nothing but the fact we are now practically holding hands. His are warm and soft, but I can feel callouses on his fingertips as they brush over my knuckles. Soft fingers, worn from playing his guitar.
Finally I take a deep breath and try to speak. "It’s okay Luke, really. I didn’t say it to make you feel bad. More to let you know you aren’t the only one."