Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Eli
I’m relieved when Emily agrees that it goes without saying we’ll be staying at mine tonight.
That was the worst episode Dean’s had for a while, and, though he was calm enough for the rest of the afternoon, even sketching out some new designs alone in his studio once his hands stopped shaking, he’s not OK.
He wants to be left alone when we get back to our apartments, which isn’t unusual, but I know he’ll feel better knowing that I’m downstairs if it gets too bad.
And I reassured him over and over again that Em wouldn’t mind if he needed me.
I know she won’t, at all. I can see she’s dying to mother him, but she’s also anxious not to make anything worse.
She’s just watchful and careful and quietly there if he needs anything. My angel.
I follow him up to his flat to make sure he’s all set, and to assure him one more time that he can come down if he needs anything at all, but he shakes his head at me. I’m good. Go have a nice evening with Emily. Seriously.
He gently shoves me out the door and, with a final tired smile, shuts the door in my face.
Sometimes he just needs to be by himself so he doesn’t have to mask for anyone, even me. Tonight is one of those nights.
I head back down to my own apartment, where my wonderful girlfriend waits on my sofa, her face creased with concern. “How’s he doing?”
I sigh. I can talk to her about this. “He gets very tired and withdrawn after an episode. He’ll be fine.
” I sit next to her, wanting to shake off the worries and just have a nice evening with her, like Dean suggested.
I also kind of want to put my head in her lap and tell her everything.
And there is something I need to make clear upfront.
“Dean’s probably always going to need me, to one extent or another.
He’s never going to be all the way recovered.
It’s not that he doesn’t try, because he does, he works so hard.
But he’s had a lot of therapy, and the trauma is still so deep.
Episodes like that are just going to happen now and again, and I need you to know that I’m always going to be there for him, and I mean always. ”
“Of course,” she says, like it’s completely obvious and natural.
“So, someday, when we have our own house, it’s going to need an apartment above the garage for Dean to grow old in.” I’m deadly serious.
“Screw that,” my girl says, “he lives inside the house with us, if he wants.”
And that, folks, illustrates completely why I’m so in love with her.
I lean forward and kiss her gently, grateful that I have her support.
Inwardly, I sigh. It’s the evening after our first night together.
I would love to continue romancing her like she’s never been romanced before.
..but, as gorgeous as she is and as much as I want her, I’m tired and heartsore for my cousin and his neverending struggle.
She smooths my hair back and gives me a sympathetic look full of understanding.
“Baby, I would love to be ravishing you on this couch the way you deserve,” I say, “but I just…”
“It’s OK,” she reassures me, “I’m kind of tired, too.” She nestles a little closer. “It must take a lot out of you.”
I nod slowly. I hate admitting that. “Honestly, yeah. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to always be there when he needs me, whatever happens.
He’d do the same for me. I just hate seeing him suffer.
He’s more like a brother to me, and I can’t stand watching him in so much pain, and knowing there’s nothing I can do to stop it. ”
“You were amazing, though,” she comforts me. “You were so rock solid and calm. I really admire that.”
I kiss her shoulder. “I’ve seen him through so many episodes, I just know what to do.
But I wish I didn’t need to.” I feel a little choked up all of a sudden when I remember that night, the call, the race to the airport to get home.
My cousin, my best friend in the whole world, covered in tubes and wires.
Holding his hand. Watching him go to pieces when he finally woke up and remembered what had happened.
A small part of me has never fully recovered from seeing him lose it when we told him about Callie...and his voice…
...And Mrs Oberman.
My own mind immediately backs off from that name.
Emily wraps her arms around me, sensing that I need it. I stay like that, just enjoying having someone to comfort me for a change. I don’t begrudge Dean a thing, but having someone to talk to about this stuff is a relief beyond words.
“Leo told me a little about it,” she says quietly. “About why that song triggers him like that.”
“Song?”
“The Power of Love,” she says very quietly, as though Dean might be able to hear through the floor.
“Oh, was that what kicked it off?”
“Yeah, there was a car that drove by with their sound system on top volume.”
“Yeah, that’d do it,” I sigh. Having her close to me like this makes talking about it a little easier, and if we’re going to be together for the rest of our lives, she needs to know this stuff.
“Shouldn’t he...I mean, I’m sure he has a therapist, or…?”
I run my hand over my face. “Yeah, he does, but he won’t go unless he’s really desperate.
He’s told me he’s sick to death of it, and I try to persuade him, but…
” I shrug. “His therapist is good, but to Dean, it’s just the same old same old, over and over again, and he hates it, so he’ll only go very reluctantly, and not regularly.
” She squeezes my hand sympathetically. “I’ve never stopped feeling guilty,” I admit finally. I’ve never said that out loud before.
She pulls back, a frown of confusion on the face I love so much. “Why?”
“I should have been there.” She starts to speak, but then stops herself, seeming to understand that I need this, that I have to let it out at last. “He was always my best friend, from my earliest memory. I’m a year older, and when I moved up to high school, I spent my freshman year just waiting for him to move up too.
I had friends, sure, but it wasn’t until Dean arrived at the beginning of my sophomore year that I felt good about high school.
He was always so alive and full of fun, never moody, never an angry word for anyone.
Everyone liked him, and for good reason.
And he and Callie, his girlfriend, were voted Cutest Couple.
They were very happy together. I mean, who knows if they would have lasted beyond high school, but.
..they were really happy.” I pause as I remember Callie, the sweet, beautiful, cheerful doe eyed girl who got snatched from us by one man’s insane cruelty.
“And when I graduated and went to college, I missed him.” I let out a shaky breath that I may have been holding for the past fifteen years, until now.
Until I felt safe enough to let it go, with her.
“I know I’d have had no business being at his senior prom, but I nearly went home early for it, just to take the pictures if nothin' else. And then I got caught up in an art project for my course, and so I just didn’t.
No real reason. But I can’t get past the feeling that if I’d been there, I’d have been able to protect him, you know?
And it's not like I even had a ticket to his prom.
I wouldn't have been actually there, at the shooting.
I'm just being ridiculous, but the guilt still eats away at me.”
There is a world of sympathy in her eyes. “I understand. But you couldn’t have. There was no way of knowing. And if you’d been there, you might have been killed yourself.”
“I know. But if I could have taken the bullet, even if I’d died, maybe I could have kept him safe, and he wouldn't be in the situation he's in now…” I shrug.
She looks horrified. “I’m so glad you weren’t there.” She squeezes both my hands. “Never wish that on yourself. And besides, if you'd died saving him...that would have destroyed him, too.”
I take a shaky breath. “Or maybe…" Can I even say this? "Maybe I could have led him to a different room, and he wouldn’t feel like he had anything to feel guilty for.”
“What room?”
I look and look at her, and I know she will never see Dean the same way again when I tell her this, but I need to.
I never told Charmaine, never trusted her with this knowledge, which should have said something to me.
But I know I can trust Em with it. I find myself opening my mouth and telling her everything.
The worst part of it all. The real reason why Dean will never, ever allow himself to get over the shooting, or forgive himself for surviving it.
I watch her face change from shock and horror, to deep, aching sorrow, and understanding.
And we quietly cry for him together.
Emily
Neither of us felt much like cooking after that, so we ordered a pizza.
We have the same favourite toppings, which is handy.
I also insisted we ordered some for Dean too, to make sure he had something for dinner, so I texted him and said it was on its way so he wouldn’t get startled by a random knock at the door from the delivery driver.
We ordered what Eli said was his usual. Even if he leaves it to get cold outside his door, I wanted to make the gesture.
I need to do something to care for him tonight, even though he wants to be alone.
I am absolutely dying to go upstairs and wrap my arms around him, now I know more about what happened. I had no idea of the weight of everything he carries. It wasn’t his fault. He was a kid. A frightened kid trying to survive a mass shooting. It wasn’t his fault at all.