She was sitting up now, staring toward the television screen where she watched One Tree Hill for the tenth time.
“Hey.” I kissed her forehead, and she blinked. I’d gotten used to that being the only response I’d get. “How about we do some reading? You usually like that.”
I pulled out the new copy of The Odyssey I’d just ordered. It had shown up on the syllabus for Sam’s fall class, and I could use a brush-up on my Greek poetry. It was the hardest to read for me, and the best practice.
I made it through the first page without issue, watching Grace to see if she’d react, or even acknowledge that I was still there with her. I flipped the page and started again, but paused when my brain didn’t want to cooperate.
“You’d think this would get easier after all these years, right?” I asked Grace. “But here we are. I’m still reading to you like we’re seven, and you’re still listening to me without judgment.” Except she didn’t climb into my lap anymore.
I got back to the pages and began to read aloud.
“‘Oh for shame, how the mortals put the blame on us gods, for they say evils come from us, but it is they, rather, who by their own recklessness win sorrow beyond what is given…’” My voice trailed off.
It was my recklessness that brought us here.
“God, I’m so sorry, baby.” I closed the book and laid my cheek against the back of her warm hand, wishing the other would come over to run her fingers through my hair like she used to. Wishing she’d offer the advice only a best friend could. “I’m sorry for everything that’s brought us here and for what I have to tell you now.”
I sat up and took the empty place on her bed, so I could look into her eyes, even if she wouldn’t look back at me. “I know you can hear me, and I wish… God, I wish so many things. But I would kill for you to speak to me, Grace.”
Her skin was soft beneath my fingers as I picked up her hand and placed it against my heart. “I’ve met someone, Gracie, and I don’t know what it means. I don’t. She’s not you,” I whispered, and then laughed softly. “She’s hard where you’re soft, and she’s stubborn where you’re so peaceful. She’s all fire, and sass, and a touch of insanity, I’m pretty sure. But she does something to me, makes me see the world again. She’s so hurt, and she’s struggling to repair this wreck she’s made of her life, and I think I can help her.
“I crossed a line with her that I’m not sure I should have, and I kissed her. I’m so sorry. But I don’t know where the line is anymore. It’s so blurred when it comes to her, and you, and everything that was between us…is between us? I don’t know anymore. I don’t know anything except what I feel when I’m around her. And she…she makes me feel alive in a way I haven’t been since I lost you. She makes me feel like I’m flying my helicopter. Free. Like I’m standing on the edge of something I can barely control, and it could be the most amazing ride of my life, or I could burn one into the ground.”
I squeezed her hand as my voice broke. “God, Grace. Tell me what to do. You’ve been my best friend since we could walk, the only woman I thought I’d ever keep around for the rest of my life, so tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”
I searched the big brown eyes I’d grown up loving—the ones that had cried when she’d skinned her knee riding my first bike, or gone hazy with passion when we’d lost our virginities our junior year. Now they stared through me, like she couldn’t bear to hear what I was saying.
I waited for words that never came. She wasn’t going to absolve me of this sin any more than she was going to scream at me for betraying her. I would get the same silent treatment I always did, no matter how many days I stayed at her bedside. The same silent treatment I deserved.
“Hey, you ready?” Mia asked as she knocked gently on the door.