Chapter Forty-Three
Bryan
“I miss you,”
the words break out of my soul and leave my heart bleeding.
“I was wondering why you called,”
Susie says.
I snort a laugh at her sarcasm, but I pay a price as my chest feels like it’s being squeezed by a gorilla-sized lineman.
“Tell me you miss me.”
My voice is raspy and raw, but I don’t care. “Tell me you can’t live without me. Tell me you have no regrets about all the pain and loss and loss of Liz’s friendship. Tell me it’s all worth having me.”
She says nothing, but I hear her quickened breathing. I fill in the silence, unable to hold back.
“If my life was ending, your face would be the last one I’d want to see. You’re the most important person in the world to me, Susie. I want you. Desperately, like a dying man needs life. I’ve always wanted you, craved you. With every encounter, every word, every gesture and touch, I’ve only wanted you more. You’re mine, Susie. Tell me you’re mine.”
I’m panting from the effort of emptying my heart and soul, drained from letting the blood from my veins, lightheaded as I grip the phone, wishing I could crawl through it to get to her.
All the damage of the past few days, the loss of Liz, my old man, and the fucking family farm, has hit hard like that tidal wave, dragging me through the agony before drowning me. Now I’m crawling, barely functioning, and I need her to save me, again, like she did so long ago.
“I want you—what’s wrong, Bryan?”
I hear the fear crawl through her voice.
“My dad is gone. And the farm is gone too.”
“Wh-what?”
she croaks out the word. I tell her what happened in short, choppy sentences, and when I’m finished, I feel drained, but not gutted. Not like before.
“I’m so sorry.”
There are tears in her words as she stumbles on. “I don’t understand how—I don’t even know what to say?—“
“When are you coming back?”
All I need to hear is that she’ll be with me, by my side. Irrational fear that she’s going to tell me she’s never coming back grips me by the throat.
“I… I’m changing my flight. Tomorrow. But if I can get back to the airport and catch a red-eye, I can leave tonight?—”
Her answer, her willingness to abandon her parents and rush back to me, settles me, and sanity returns. I can’t let her turn around and fly back tonight.
“What about your parents? Wait a day.”
“Tomorrow. I’ll get a flight tomorrow.”
“Do you have the money? I don’t want your parents to pay?—”
“I’ll change my return flight. I already have the ticket.”
“I’ll pick you up.”
“I… got approved for financial aid for next semester and my adviser says as long as I keep my grades up, I’ll get it next year too.”
“Of course you will. You’re a superstar student”
Shit. She’s staying at UConn. What did I think she was going to do? But the idea of missing her for even a couple of semesters feels like the devil punching me in the open wound of loss in my chest.
“I’m proud of myself for taking matters into my own hands, for not relying on my parents, even now that Dad has a new job.”
“I’m proud of you, Susie. I have no doubt you can accomplish whatever you want.”
It’s true, and I push aside my pain, the gray blanket of loneliness.
“I’ll call back with my flight information when I make the change.”
“I’ll be there to get you whenever you get in.”
“Tomorrow. I need to see you. I desperately need to hold you.”
Her words wrap me in a protective cocoon, easing the sharp edges of loss, and I put everything aside—football, family, farm, all of it—and think only about seeing Susie.
Then I take a deep, clear breath and end the call with soft words.
“I love you, Susie.”