Chapter 69
CHAPTER
CHARLEY
When my mom’s taillights disappeared into the misty rain, I sagged against the bay window in relief.
I was finally alone.
Being alone meant I was free to remember, and being alone meant I could stop pretending.
Stop pretending to be fine, stop pretending I didn’t remember.
Stop pretending I was whole. Because fifty-one days later, my heart still begged for Thad.
I needed time to grieve and to heal—the kind of time only distance could provide.
That was a huge part of my decision to pursue a volleyball scholarship at the University of Washington, a school as foreign to my parents as Nil was to me.
If you’re gonna be a dog, be a ’Dawg, not a Husky, my dad had argued.
But I was determined, and I’d won. I was also considering going out for the cross-country team, because running was the only time I felt alive, so I ran a ton, and I’d gotten pretty good.
But no matter what I did in Seattle, I wouldn’t have to pretend.
And I’d feel close to Thad, even though he was gone.
Today was January gray, cool and wet. Not a storm, just gentle sheets of silver drizzle.
I watched it fall, oddly soothed by the colorlessness outside my window. And like I always did when I was alone, I thought of Thad, remembering us.
As I relived our last moment together, anger flared, slashing and painful, then the emotion fizzled as quickly as it had come.
Fury had flickered lately in place of the numbness, fueling my latest runs.
I was furious with Nil, with Fate, or maybe with both.
Fate brought Thad and me together only to tear us apart, or maybe that was Nil; I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
And I didn’t understand why. Why let me meet my soul mate, only to take him away?
Was my purpose on Nil only to solve the mystery of the carvings, rediscovering knowledge that had been lost?
And if so, why take me first, when my work on Nil wasn’t done?
I felt confident that I’d figured out the pattern to the gates, and I was grateful I’d shared my storm theory with everyone in the City. But I never figured out the numbers, not completely.
Maybe I wasn’t meant to know, I thought, leaning my head against the cool glass. Maybe the numbers are someone else’s mystery to solve. Like how Sabine shared the knowledge of the deadleaf leaves, but left before teaching anyone how to brew deadleaf tea.
Maybe I wasn’t on Nil to meet Thad after all.
Every cell in my body screamed otherwise.
The screaming reached a fever pitch, and in that instant, I was furious with Thad.
I’d stolen his gate, but he’d thrown me in; his act was selfless, but it felt like quitting.
On me, on us. And yet what he did was so perfectly Thad that my anger didn’t last, because I couldn’t be angry at Thad for being Thad.
Sometimes I got mad at myself, wondering how I hadn’t seen his slick move coming.
Don’t you dare give up on me, I’d said. Never, he’d promised, his eyes burning with blue fire.
I’d misread him completely.
I rapped my head against the glass, then I let it go. I refused to play the what-if game. It wouldn’t change the past. But while the past was over, it still shaped the present.
I missed Thad so much it hurt.
Out of habit, I touched my bare neck. All Thad’s gifts were reduced to memories; the necklace, the lei, his kisses.
Except one: me. His final gift was life.
My life. To throw it away would diminish it, something I refused to do, because even though no one else would know, I would know. And I’d never forget.
My dad was right. I was strong; I would make it. I owed it to Thad, and I owed it to myself.
I’d just have to make it alone.
I thought about going for a run, but I was content to sit and watch the rain, knowing that for the first time in weeks, no one would ask me if I was okay.
The phone rang; I didn’t move. I wondered if it was Natalie.
She’d seen the news and found my phone number.
When I’d told her what happened, she cried with me, stunned at Thad’s choice.
She was the only one who knew how I felt, and yet she didn’t.
Because she had Kevin, while I only had memories—memories that everyone else thought I’d forgotten.
I loved talking to Natalie, but I hated it, too.
The phone fell silent. The rain kept falling. I caught the flash of someone in a slicker, then the doorbell rang, jarring and intrusive.
Like everything else unpleasant in my life, I ignored it.
Leaning my forehead against the glass, I watched the rain.