Chapter Twenty-Five
Twenty-Five
I came down the stairs in one of Micah’s old sweatshirts, pulling my hands into the sleeves. Smoke was curled up on the rug, sleepily watching Micah stoke the fire, the dance of the flames reflecting in his eyes.
I sank down onto the sofa, tucking my legs up beneath me and reaching for the half-empty glass of whiskey on the coffee table. I finished it in one swallow, eyes watering as it burned down my throat. As soon as I set it down, Micah refilled it.
He sat down beside me, close enough that his hip touched my leg, and I tried not to let it summon to life the memory of him touching me. For days, he’d been putting distance between us, but here, between the walls of the home he’d made without me, I felt like maybe there was part of him that was within reach.
“I think we should talk,” I said, taking another sip from the glass and handing it to him.
“Yeah, I think so.”
He shifted so that he could turn toward me, hooking one hand inside my leg, and the feeling of it anchored me. Made me feel steady.
“I don’t blame you for what happened. I only said that because I blame myself.”
Micah stared into the glass before he leaned forward, setting it on the coffee table. “You blame yourself for what?”
“All of it. All of Johnny’s problems. Not protecting him enough. Leaving him.” My voice was already on the verge of breaking. “What happened with Griffin.”
“How was that your fault?”
I drew in a long breath, trying to gather the courage to say it. “For weeks before what happened, he was trying to…I don’t know, start something with me. I’d told him about Byron and I think he had it inhis head that we were both leaving and that once we did, there would be something between us. That day in the gorge, he tried to”—Ipaused—“touch me.”
Micah’s hand slid from my leg and I caught it with mine, holding it there. My fingers wound into his.
“I shoved him off and he was pissed. That’s why he got wasted. Why he pointed the gun at me.”
“James, there’s no way you could have known he was going to do that.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t.”
“Then how can you be responsible?”
“I just feel like everything Johnny did was my fault. I felt like it was my job to keep him safe. Contained. Every minute of every day, I could just feel this anxiety about what he might do or say. How other people perceived him. And eventually, it just all got to be too much.”
“You loved him.”
I nodded, my mouth twisting. “And he was all I had.”
“You had me,” he said.
I should have been used to the way Micah just came out and said things, but still, it seemed to always catch me by surprise. The truth was, I’d known that. I’d known that Micah was in it with me. That he got Johnny like no one else did. That’s the only reason I’d been able to leave.
I smiled, but it hurt. “You were right, you know.”
“About what?”
“That we could fill an ocean with the things we never said.”
Micah picked up the glass again, finishing it. It was a long moment before he asked the question. “If there was one thing you could say right now, what would it be?”
I didn’t even have to think about it. “That I know what I did. I know that when I left, I put Johnny on you.”
His eyes searched mine. “You didn’t put anything on me. He was like a brother to me, James.”
“You know what I mean. You were the only one I trusted to look out for him. And I knew that when I was leaving, I was putting it all on you.”
When Micah didn’t say anything else, I pulled his hand closer to me, clutching it to my chest. I could feel my heart beating wildly beneath it.
He looked down at our fingers tangled together, jaw clenching. “That’s not what hurt me, James.”
There was a visible pain in his eyes that appeared to travel through his body, finding the tension in every angle of him. “You cut me off. You just…erased me. Like I never existed.” The tone in his voice shifted. “I mean, I get it. You had to make a choice. And even if I wanted you, James, I was never going to be a guy in a tuxedo at an art show, living in San Francisco with you.”
My heart sank as he said it.
“I just wanted to find a way to pretend like I was someone else.”
“And did you?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I did.”
What no one knew was that I’d questioned that decision a thousand times since I made it. Looking back now, I didn’t think I would change it. I wouldn’t give up Byron or my work or the life I’d made in the city. But I also didn’t know if it was what I wanted anymore.
“You don’t hate me?” I took a chance in asking the one question that I was most afraid to have answered.
Micah’s mouth tilted in a half grin. “I wish I could hate you. It would have made things a lot easier.”
We both laughed, and it felt good. Like we were speaking a language we’d forgotten.
“What about you? What’s one thing you would say right now?” I said.
He thought about it. “If there were no consequences? No cost?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure you want me to say it?”
I nodded.
He unwound his fingers from mine and his hands came up between us, taking my face between his palms. The warmth that swelled there made me want to melt into it. I held on to his wrists, holding him in place, and my heart raced, waiting for it.
His thumb moved over my cheekbone, finding my temple. “All right. Then here it goes.”
I braced myself, my eyes running over his face. He drifted closer until his mouth touched mine, and he kissed me softly. The words were a whisper, spoken against my lips.
“Don’t go back to San Francisco.”