Sometimes I thought that Andrew had brought Evan to me, and in more ways than one.
He brought him to find me, protect me, love me, defend me, and most importantly, make me believe in love. He brought him to me to show me that not everything was lost.
You could have your life ripped apart with no shred of what it was before. You could think to yourself you'd never find that again. That you had your chance and it was taken from you.
That wasn't the case.
Andrew used to tell me there were angels on the moon. It sounded crazy coming from a guy like Andrew, who was fairly macho for guy standards, but he would say things like, "It's not luck that I have Ami. It's an angel on the moon."
I never understood that statement. I always just thought maybe he'd took too many line drives to the head.
When I looked at Evan, I understood what he meant. The moon had a gravitational pull, one that couldn't be ignored. The moon was a place where when the sun had dried up all the good, when you couldn't see it anymore, the moon, with its reflecting glow, gave you a light when nothing else did. It guided you through the darkest nights.
Evan was my angel on the moon.
Evan didn't leave me alone that night. He insisted, despite that pain in his hand and shoulder, on holding me all night. No matter how many times I told him I was fine, he didn't let go, and deep down, I was glad he didn't let.
The memory brought me back to when my family died and Josh had held me all night. I told him I was fine and he let go. He let go all together eventually, but this time, with this all-heart boy holding me, it didn't matter if I was fine or pretended to be fine, he wasn't letting go.
His arm draped over me, pressing his chest into my back, and his warm sleeping breath fanned the hair behind my ear and soothed every ache in my heart no matter who put the ache there to begin with. In his arms, I felt safe and content. Here, in these arms, I trusted that he would do anything to keep me here and do anything to keep any harm from happening to me ever again.
Delay of game – This happens when a player deliberately causes a stoppage of play. Player is penalized with a minor penalty.
Nightmares. I'd been having them for months. When I closed my eyes, I saw white snow splashed with red and a girl, my girl, broken. Only now, those nightmares had a face with them, and he was my friend. He was my fucking friend, someone I trusted, someone who I never imagined could do something so horrific to another person. Then Ami was there, screaming, begging, blood pouring from her, handing me her broken heart. As sick as it was, it was a dream I had often.
With a jolt, I was awake, gasping. That was when the pain returned. My shoulder and hand were both screaming.
That was when I noticed Ami wasn't in my bed. Immediately, I jumped up and looked around the room, terrified she was gone.
"Ami?" I called out, searching the room.
That was when I heard the shower and the crying.
Rushing in there, I found her on the floor of my shower in a fetal position, her arms wrapped around her knees, crying.
The vision reappeared, the one of her covered in blood in the snow, followed quickly by the one of her in that bed, tubes and wires connected to her, and then finally the one of Dave. My hands and body were shaking, begging to release the anger that consumed me, but there was a bigger picture here: the girl.
"Baby, it's okay." I pressed my lips into her hair. She moved, crawling into my lap as I sat on the floor of the steaming shower in my underwear, rocking us back and forth. I had absolutely no idea if I was helping her, but fuck, I was trying.
The anger and emotion had still been building inside me and brought a wave of tears I had no intention of letting her see, so I turned my head, thankful for the water masking the sadness.
She smiled and took my doubt, resentment, and anger with her. I stroked slowly over her cheek with my right hand, moving to her lips.