The Darkest Sunrise
Page 40Oh. My. God.
“What?” I croaked, throwing a hand up to cover my mouth as I stumbled back a step, the guardrail breaking my fall.
“Shit. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought up the kids.”
I shook my head. That wasn’t at all why I was upset. “Your son had a heart transplant?” I choked out behind my hand.
He twisted his lips. “Well, not yet.”
“Why not!” I yelled, my chest aching at yet another tragedy Porter and I had in common.
His eyes narrowed. “He’s only been on the list for about six weeks. It’s why I’ve been so frantic to keep him well over the last few months. If he’s sick when that call comes in with a donor, we’re screwed.”
“Oh God. His pulmonary issues are because of his heart?”
“Shit,” Porter muttered, and then he pulled me into his arms. “Christ, Charlotte. It’s okay. He’s okay. He’s been doing better thanks to Dr. Whitehall. She even had the head of pediatric cardiology at TCH do a phone consult with our cardiologist last week.”
My chest felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. God, Porter had truly lived through hell. I still remembered that day at the doctor’s office when Lucas had been diagnosed. It had been the most painful moment of my life—at that point anyway.
I clung to his shoulders as if I could transfer my sympathies through body heat alone. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I—”
Using my arms, he shifted me away from his so he could see my face. “Sweetheart. He’s okay. My boy’s a fighter. He’ll get through this.”
“But what if—” I started, but that’s as far as I got.
“No. Don’t even think about it. I spend a lot of time in the darkness, but Travis’s health is not allowed there. He’s going to be fine. He’s going to get that transplant and live to be an old man. That is the only option. Therefore, it will be the only result. You got me?”
Just like with Lucas, I knew too much to believe that. But, if Porter wanted to pretend, I wouldn’t be the one to ruin that for him.
I nodded. “You’re right. He’s going to be fine.”
“Good. Now, we have other things to talk about,” Porter said, tucking hair behind my ear.
He swept his thumbs under my eyes. “You’re crying.”
I sniffled. “Crap. Sorry. This is your nervous breakdown, not mine.”
He grinned and repeated, “My nervous breakdown?”
I swung my hand out to the side. “We’re at the bridge. You’re going for a swim in the gross water. You think you’ve been dirty for three years.”
He chuckled and dipped his lips to my forehead. “I can pause my nervous breakdown. It’s been a terrible day and you haven’t cried at all, and then you find out my kid needs a new ticker and you burst into tears. Anything you want to talk about?” He paused. “Besides the obvious.”
I cut my gaze off to the side in time to see another car had breezed past us. “Besides the obvious? Nope.”
“Right,” he whispered. “We still pretending?”
I gave him my eyes back as they welled with tears all over again. Shit. “I—uh…”
He kissed my nose and didn’t make me finish. “Okay, then. Let’s get back to my nervous breakdown.”
I swallowed hard. “Wait. You aren’t really having a nervous breakdown, are you?”
His shoulders shook as he chuckled. “No.”
“Okay. Then yes, let’s get back to that.”
Leaning forward, he whispered, “I’m ready to let go. That guilt has been devouring me for too long. I did the best I could that day, Charlotte. Was it perfect? Fuck no. But I can’t change it. The old Porter Reese is somewhere at the bottom of that river. I’m ready to get him back.”
Motion at the ground drew my attention to his feet. He was stepping out of his shoes.
“I’m not sure you have to swim in the—Porter!” I yelled as he suddenly took off running down the rocky embankment.
He didn’t dive in, but he didn’t slow as he waded into the murky water. And then, all at once, he disappeared under the surface.
Less than a second later, his head reemerged, his voice echoing as he boomed, “Holy fuck, this is cold!” But he was smiling. Huge and completely unlike anything I’d ever seen him wear before, and that was odd because, when we were together, Porter smiled a lot—we both did.
But this smile, it was beautiful. It actually hurt to look at because it was so fucking genuine that it made me jealous. I didn’t have a nasty river to dive into in order to symbolically reclaim my life.
All I had was a son who was missing…
“Oh God,” I breathed. My mouth began to water as my stomach rolled.
My knees shook, and I literally could not force my lungs to fill with air.
I was bone dry and drowning on the banks of a river.
It was a somewhat out-of-body experience as I watched him climbing back up that embankment, his jeans leaving a trail of water across the dry rocks and dirt, his shirt clinging to his strong arms and his chest. His smile never faltering until he stopped in front of me.
Extending his hand, he said, “Hi. I’m Porter Reese.”
And that was when I fell, a strangled cry escaping my mouth. “He’s dead.”
* * *
The sound of her cry tore through me, slaying me as my mind struggled to process her words. I dove forward, catching her before her knees hit the ground.
“He’s dead. My baby’s gone,” she sobbed, reality slashing her with every syllable.
Water poured from my sopping-wet clothing as I held her tight against my chest, wishing I could do more.
Clearly, Charlotte was done pretending.
“I know,” I whispered, pressing my lips to her temple.
“This was supposed to be easier,” she cried, her hand shoving at my shoulder. “This was what I wanted. It’s not supposed to hurt like this.”
Her body bucked with sobs. “It’s been ten years, Porter. It shouldn’t hurt this badly. I should be relieved. I should be grateful that he hasn’t been suffering for all these years. I should…”
And that was when I broke every rule we had ever created.
The rules weren’t helping her.
They weren’t helping me.
They weren’t helping us.
The darkness was still the loneliest place on Earth, no matter how much company you had. Charlotte and I had been kidding ourselves. We didn’t share the darkness.
Together, we lived in the blinding light of day. It was an ugly, desolate place where horrible things happened to good people.
But love grew there.
I had known that first moment I’d seen Charlotte Mills.
And there was nothing in the world I wouldn’t do to hold on to that.
Even if that meant facing the jagged blade of reality.
I unwrapped my arms and grabbed her shoulders, giving her a gentle shake just to be sure I had her attention. “Stop saying how you should feel. There is no right way to feel when you find out your child is gone. I don’t care if it’s been ten seconds or ten years. You are allowed to feel. You’re allowed to hurt. Hell, Charlotte, maybe that’s the key. Pretending won’t change anything. The truth will always be waiting for you. You’ve got to let it hurt, sweetheart. Let that pain in. Let it light you on fire. Let it take you to your knees. Let the avalanche overtake you. Let it break every bone in your body until you think nothing is left.” I paused and lowered my voice. “And then let it go.”
“He was my son. I can’t let him go.”
“No. You are absolutely right. But you can let go of the guilt from that day. Look, I can’t stand here and tell you that you have nothing to feel guilty about any more than I can look in the mirror and tell myself that same thing. But I can tell you that you have to let that shit go. It’s killing you, Charlotte. It’s going to be the most painful thing you have ever experienced. But you can let it go. And you have to. Because that is the only way you can move on.”