Cap leans forward and clasps his hands between his knees. I turn and look at him, seeing tears in his eyes for the first time in the twenty-four years Ive known him. Then I guess nothing changes. You can keep on feeling like you dont deserve a life for ruining hers. You can keep on avoiding everything that might make you feel again. He leans in toward me and lowers his voice. I know the thought of confronting your past terrifies you. It terrifies every man. But sometimes we dont do it for ourselves. We do it for the people we love more than ourselves.
Chapter thirty-seven
RACHEL
Brad! I yell. Someones at the door! I grab a dish towel and dry my hands.
Got it, he says, passing through the kitchen. I take a quick inventory of the kitchen to make sure there isnt anything my mother can insult. Counters are clean. Floors are clean.
Bring it on, Mom.
Wait here, Brad says to whoever is at the door.
Wait here?
Brad wouldnt say that to my mother.
Rachel, Brad says from the kitchen entryway. I turn around to face him, and I immediately tense. The look on his face is one I rarely ever see. Its reserved for preparation. When hes about to tell me something I dont want to hear or something hes afraid will hurt me. My immediate thoughts fall to my mother, and Im gripped with worry.
Brad, I whisper. What is it? Im holding the counter next to me. The familiar fear washes over me that used to live and breathe inside me, but now its something that only grips me on occasion.
Like right now, when my husband is too afraid to tell me something hes not sure I want to hear. Someones here to see you, he says.
I dont know of anyone who could make Brad as concerned as he is right now. Who?
He slowly walks toward me and cups my face in his hands when he reaches me. He looks into my eyes as if hes trying to brace me for a fall. Its Miles.
I dont move.
I dont fall, but Brad holds me up anyway. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me against his chest.
Why is he here? My voice trembles.
Brad shakes his head. I dont know. He pulls away and looks down on me. Ill ask him to leave if you need me to.
I immediately shake my head. I wouldnt do that to him. Not if he came all the way to Phoenix.
Not after almost seven years.
Do you need a few minutes? I can take him to the living room.
I dont deserve this man. I dont know what Id do without him. He knows my history with Miles. He knows everything we went through. It took me a while to be able to tell him the whole story. He knows all of this, and hes still standing here, offering to invite the only other man Ive ever loved into our home.
Im okay, I tell him, even though Im not. I dont know if I want to see Miles. I have no idea why hes here. Are you okay?
He nods. He looks upset. I think you should talk to him. He leans in and kisses me on the forehead. Hes in the foyer. Ill be in my office if you need me.
I nod, and then I kiss him. I kiss him hard.
He walks away, and Im left standing silently in the kitchen, my heart beating erratically within my chest. I take a deep breath, but it does nothing to calm me. I brush my hands down my shirt and walk toward the foyer.
Miless back is to me, but he hears me round the corner. He turns his head slightly over his shoulder, almost as if hes just as afraid to turn around and look at me as I am to see him.
He does it carefully. Slowly. Suddenly, my eyes are locked with his.
I know its been six years, but in that six years, hes somehow completely changed, without changing at all. Hes still Miles, but hes a man now. This makes me wonder what hes seeing, looking at me for the first time since the day I left him.
Hey, he says, treading carefully. His voice is different. It isnt the voice of a teenager anymore.
Hi.
I lose his gaze as his eyes travel around the foyer. He takes in my home. A home I never expected to see him in. We both stand in silence for a whole minute. Maybe two.
Rachel, I … He looks back at me again. I dont know why Im here.
I do.
I can see it in his eyes. I got to know those eyes so well when we were together. I knew all his thoughts. All his emotions. He wasnt able to hide how he felt, because he felt so much. Hes always felt so much.
Hes here because he needs something. I dont know what. Answers, maybe? Closure? Im glad he waited until now to get it, because I think Im finally ready to give it.
Its good to see you, I tell him.
Our voices are weak and timid. Its weird, seeing someone for the first time under different circumstances from when you parted.
I loved this man. I loved him with all my heart and soul. I loved him like I love Brad.
I also hated him.
Come in, I say, motioning toward the living room. Lets talk.
He takes two hesitant steps toward the living room. I turn around and let him follow me.
We both take a seat on the sofa. He doesnt get comfortable. Instead, he sits on the edge of it and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Hes looking around, taking in my home once more. My life.
Youre brave, I say. He looks at me, waiting for me to continue. Ive thought about this, Miles. About seeing you again. I just … I look down. I just couldnt.
Why not? he says almost immediately.
I make eye contact with him again. The same reason you havent. We dont know what to say.
He smiles, but its not the smile I used to love on Miles. This one is guarded, and I wonder if I did this to him. If Im responsible for all the sad parts of him. There are so many sad parts of him now.
He picks up a photo of Brad and me from the end table. His eyes study the picture in his hands for a moment. Do you love him? he asks, continuing to stare at the picture. Like you loved me? Hes not asking in a bitter or jealous way. Hes asking in a curious way.
Yes, I reply. Just as much.
He places the picture back on the end table but continues to stare at it.
How? he whispers. How did you do that?
His words bring tears to my eyes, because I know exactly what hes asking me. I asked myself the same question for several years, until I met Brad. I didnt think Id ever be able to love someone again. I didnt think Id want to love someone again. Why would anyone want to put themselves in a position that could bring back the type of pain that makes a person envious of death?
I want to show you something, Miles.
I stand up and reach out for his hand. He watches my hand cautiously for a moment before finally reaching for it. His fingers slide through mine, and he squeezes my hand as he stands up. I begin making my way toward the bedroom, and he follows closely behind me.
We reach the bedroom door, and my fingers pause on the doorknob. My heart is heavy. The emotions and everything we went through are surfacing, but I know I have to allow them to surface if I want to help him. I push the door open and walk inside, pulling Miles behind me.
As soon as were inside the room, I feel his fingers tighten around mine. Rachel, he whispers. His voice is a plea for me not to do this. I feel him try to pull back toward the door, but I dont let him. I make him walk to her crib with me.
Hes standing by my side, but I can feel him struggling because he doesnt want to be in here right now.
Hes squeezing my hand so tightly I can feel the hurt in his heart. He blows out a quick breath as he looks down on her. I see the roll of his throat when he swallows, then blows out another steadying breath.
I watch as his free hand comes up and grips the edge of her crib, holding on to it as tightly as the hand thats wrapped around mine. Whats her name? he whispers.
Claire.
His whole body reacts with my response. His shoulders immediately begin to shake, and he tries to hold in his breath, but nothing can stop it. Nothing can stop him from feeling what hes feeling, so I just allow him to feel it. He pulls his hand from mine and covers his mouth to conceal the quick rush of air released from his lungs. He turns and walks swiftly out of the room. I follow him just as fast, in time to see his back hit the hallway wall across from her nursery. He slides to the floor, and the tears begin to fall hard.
He doesnt try to cover them. He pulls his hands through his hair, and he leans his head back against the wall and looks up at me. Thats … He points to Claires nursery and tries to speak, but it takes him several tries to get his sentence out. Thats his sister, he finally says, blowing out an unsteady breath. Rachel. You gave him a sister.
I sink to the floor next to him and wrap my arm around his shoulders, stroking his hair with my other hand. He presses his palms to his forehead and squeezes his eyes shut, crying quietly to himself.
Miles. I dont even try to disguise the tears in my voice. Look at me.
He leans his head back against the wall, but he cant look me in the eyes. Im sorry I blamed you. You lost him, too. I didnt know how else to deal with it back then.
My words completely break him, and Im consumed with guilt over allowing six years to pass without letting him hear those words. He leans over and wraps his arms tightly around me, pulling me against him. I let him hold me.
He holds me for a long time, until all the apologies and forgiveness are absorbed and its just us again. No tears.
I would be lying if I said I never think about what I did to him. I think about it every day. But I was eighteen and devastated, and nothing mattered to me after that night.
Nothing.
I just wanted to forget, but every morning I woke up and didnt feel Clayton by my side, I blamed Miles. I blamed him for saving me, because I had no reason left to live. I also knew in my heart that Miles did what he could. I knew in my heart that it was never his fault, but at that point in my life, I wasnt capable of rational thought or even forgiveness. At that point in my life, I was convinced I wouldnt be capable of anything at all but feeling pain.
Those feelings never wavered for more than three years.
Until the day I met Brad.
I dont know who Miles has, but the familiar struggle in his eyes proves theres someone. I used to see the same struggle every time I looked in the mirror, unsure if I had it in me to love again.
Do you love her? I ask him. I dont need to know her name. Were beyond that now. I know he isnt here because hes still in love with me. Hes here because he doesnt know how to love at all.
He sighs and rests his chin on top of my head. Im scared I wont be able to.
Miles kisses the top of my head, and I close my eyes. I listen to his heart beating inside his chest. A heart hes claiming isnt capable of knowing how to love, but in actuality, its a heart that loves too much. He loved so much, and that one night took it away from us. Changed our worlds. Changed his heart.
I used to cry all the time, I tell him. All the time. In the shower. In the car. In my bed. Every time I was alone, I would cry. For those first couple of years, my life was constant sadness, penetrated by nothing. Not even good moments.
I feel his arms wrap tighter around me, silently telling me he knows. He knows exactly what Im talking about.
Then when I met Brad, I found myself having these brief moments where my life wasnt sad every second of the day. I would go somewhere with him in a car, and Id realize it was my first time in a car without crying at least one tear. The nights we would spend together were the only nights I wouldnt cry myself to sleep. For the first time, this impenetrable sadness that had become me was being broken by the brief, good moments I spent with Brad.
I pause, needing a moment. I havent had to think about this in a while, and the emotions and feelings are too fresh. Too real. I pull away from Miles and lean back against the wall, then rest my head on his shoulder. He tilts his head until its resting against mine and grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers.
After a while, I began to notice that the good moments with Brad began to outweigh all the sadness. The sadness that was my life became the moments, and my happiness with Brad became my life.
I feel him exhale, and I know he knows what Im talking about. I know that whoever she is, hes had those good moments with her.