“My God,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
He sighed heavily, tears pooling in his eyes. “It was a tragedy. Kelly wasn’t charged with anything. She wasn’t impaired or anything, she just . . . didn’t see her. She was so wrecked over it that she ended up in the hospital. She wouldn’t eat or drink. Then she had to go to inpatient treatment for severe depression and suicidal thoughts.”
I could tell his mind was cycling back through the memories. He was clutching my hand now, both of us holding on tight.
“It helped,” he said flatly. “Or at least, we thought it did. She said it did. She went on meds and started eating again. She was planning to start classes again after winter break. And then on Christmas morning, her mom found her . . .” He stopped to gather himself. “She’d overdosed.”
I cupped his scruffy cheek with my free hand and met his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Bennett.”
He nodded slightly, his expression somber. “It’s a heavy burden, realizing you had someone’s life in the palm of your hand and you let it slip away.”
He blamed himself. That was so like Bennett, who was good and honorable and took care of the people he loved. But it was also completely misguided.
“You didn’t let it slip away,” I said, holding his tortured gaze. “You didn’t. Maybe she didn’t want you to see how much pain she was in. Maybe that was her choice.”
“I should’ve seen it.”
“Did she reach out to you?”
He shook his head, looking numb. “She must’ve felt like she couldn’t.”
“That can’t be. It sounds like you weren’t the only one who thought she was better.”
“Yeah. Her parents were shocked when it happened. Devastated. She was their only child.”
I smoothed my thumb over his knuckles, just realizing why he was telling me this right now.
“Volunteering at the Suicide Prevention Center was hard for you.”
He nodded. “It was fine until I met a teenage kid outside the center who was having suicidal thoughts. I was terrified, Charlotte. I can’t even explain how much it hurt. I’ve had bones broken during games, and those hits were nothing compared to this. I was afraid the kid would run off or I’d say the wrong thing . . . damn.” He took a deep breath and rubbed his temple.
“What’d you say to him?”
“I just asked him questions. What stuff he’s into, what he hopes to do after high school. I was trying to make him see that there’s a whole life ahead of him, but I don’t even know if that was right.”
“Where did you leave things?”
“The director of the center ended up coming out and taking him inside.”
I lifted Bennett’s hand to my lips and kissed the back of it, the soft hairs tickling my lips.
“You did good, Bennett. Great.”
He arched his brows and held my gaze. “How do you know?”
“I just do. You’re kind and caring and it shines through.”
“I hope I helped him.”
There was a crease of worry between his brows and a far-off look in his eyes. I hadn’t noticed the dark circles under his eyes when he walked in, but now I saw that he looked exhausted in every way.
“Why don’t I order delivery from the deli and we can eat in bed and watch a movie?” I suggested. “Maybe go to bed early.”
“Yeah.” His shoulders sank a bit as he relaxed. “That would be good. I’ve missed having you in my arms at night, Char.”
“Me too.” I leaned forward and kissed him softly, my baby bump brushing the edge of the table as I did.
I’d never wanted to put my arms around him as much as I did right now. All I wanted was to ease the ache in him and reassure him that he’d done everything he could for Kelly. He’d been enough then and he was enough for me now. So much more than enough. I needed to help him see that, but that would mean letting some of my own walls crumble the same way he had just now.
Three months later
Charlotte
Bennett picked up the last box with “James” scrawled across it in black marker and headed out the apartment door, leaving just James and me in the living room.
“So this is it,” I said.
“This is it.” He smiled and opened his arms for a hug. But my very pregnant belly made it hard to give him more than an awkward side-hug.
“I’m going to miss you,” I said. “Not that I see much of you anymore.”
“I bet we’ll see each other more now that I’m moving in with Brian.”
I gave him a playful eye roll. “I love how you work that into every sentence.”
“It just fits,” he said with a grin. “I made scrambled eggs, I’m moving in with Brian. Let’s watch some Netflix, I’m moving in with Brian. The garbage disposal is broken, I’m moving in with Brian.”
“I’m happy for you guys. But . . . it all happened so fast, don’t you think? I mean, this whole thing has been kind of . . . fast. Are you sure this moving in together thing is right?”
He shrugged. “Maybe that’s why it’s called ‘falling in love’ instead of ‘slowly and carefully stepping into an amorous relationship.’”
I punched his shoulder playfully.
“Hey, now,” he said. “I might rescind my gift if you keep that up.”