Too fucking late.
28
Talie
My face was wet with tears. My hand had long ago fallen away from his hair and into my lap. Gavin still held my other hand, never once breaking contact the entire time he spoke.
What he’d been through was horrible. Something no one should ever have to live. To watch the person you loved most in this world die on the side of a road while you stood by helpless was cruel.
I understood why he said he was emotionally unavailable. I understood all those times he pushed me away. All those times when I thought we were getting closer, when he was letting me in only to have a door slam closed.
He lost the only woman he’d ever loved. A woman who was supposed to be by his side forever. She didn’t cheat on him or lie. She didn’t wake up one day and decide he wasn’t who she wanted. She was taken from him. Stolen by the worst kind of death.
And since that day, his life had been at a standstill. His life had never been the same.
What did you say when someone told you the story of how they were robbed of forever? What did you say when the man you loved sat broken and sorrowful right in front of you?
There wasn’t anything I could ever say.
Gently, I tugged my hand free of his and carefully slid over, turning on my side to face him. Gavin lifted his head, his bloodshot eyes watching me. I lifted the covers of the little hospital bed, inviting him closer.
He didn’t even hesitate. He stood and kicked off his shoes and slid right in next to me. The bed was small and he took up most the space, but I didn’t care. When he held out his arm, I settled against him, laying my cheek on his chest.
I could hear the beat of his heart, the steady rhythm just below his ribs.
I tucked my arm around him, ignoring all the protests of my body. Everything that I had been through this last month seemed like nothing compared to what he’d survived.
We lay there a long time, neither of us uttering a word. Just being close to him was comfort enough. I said a prayer while I lay there. I said a prayer for Dani, that she found peace in the afterlife. And I said a prayer for Gavin, that somehow, someway he would eventually find peace too.
“Gavin?” I said after a while.
“Hmm?” He turned his head toward me. His lips brushed my forehead.
“What happened next?”
“I quit my residency. I didn’t think I deserved to be a doctor anymore. I wasn’t sure it was for me.”
“But why?”
“I couldn’t save her. When the going got tough and I was in that situation that had to be acted upon, I failed. I failed to save the life of my own wife. I let her down. I let her die.”
Such guilt to carry around. Such a heavy weight.
“You did everything you could,” I said, propping my chin on my hand and looking up at him.
“It wasn’t enough.”
I wasn’t going to argue with him, not about this, not about something that clearly caused him so much pain.
But for the record, he was wrong.
“Then what happened?”
“I got a big settlement from the driver’s insurance. I tried to turn it down. They sent it anyway. I don’t know why they thought I would want that blood money. It felt wrong to take it. Like I was somehow benefiting from her death.”
“What did you do?”
“I bought the beach house on Topsail and gave the rest to charity.”
“And you’ve been there ever since.”
“Yeah.”
“How long have you been there, Gavin?” How long have you been grieving alone?
“Almost two years.”
“She wasn’t the only one who died in that accident. You died too,” I said.
“Why did I get to live instead of her?” he whispered, agony in his tone.
“I don’t know,” I replied, honestly. “But I honestly think there was a reason. There is a reason for everything.” I thought of the baby that I carried inside me. His reason for living… He had to live so he had something to leave behind.
“It should have been me.”
“Dani wouldn’t want you to carry around this much pain and guilt.”
He shifted, wrapping me in both his arms. His hold was strong, and it hurt just a little, but I didn’t say a word. Minutes later, I felt his lips on my forehead, pressing a gentle kiss to my hairline.
“Gavin?” I whispered.
“Yeah?” he whispered back.
“You saved me. You pulled me out of the car and you saved me.”
“I couldn’t watch you die on the side of the road.”
That’s why he drove me here himself. It’s why he sat vigil beside my bed. He had to make sure I didn’t die. He had to make sure he wasn’t responsible for another death.
How horrible it must have been for him watching my car veer off the road. But he was still here. He hadn’t run away.
“You know I’m going to be okay.”
“I know.”
“You don’t have to stay here,” I pressed. I didn’t want him to leave, but I wasn’t his obligation. “I know this must be hard for you. You can go home.”
“I can’t go home.”
Probably not. My accident was too sharp of a reminder of what happened to Dani. Going home to an empty house would likely cause him to overthink. He couldn’t be alone right now. I understood that.
“Well, you are a lot warmer than these pathetic rags they call blankets,” I said, unable to stop myself from snuggling just a little bit closer.
His chuckle was warm and genuine. It fused together a little bit of the fracture that opened in my chest when he told me about his past. “Glad I can be of service.”
“Claire thinks Stitch is totally hot,” I said, trying to keep things light.
He laughed. “Her and every other woman in the South.”
“I prefer blonds.” The words slipped right out before I could snatch them back. The last thing I wanted to do was say something that would make him push me away again.
“Be sure and tell him that,” Gavin replied, not bothered by the comment at all. “Maybe it will deflate some of his big head.”
“Have you known him a long time?” Just from the fondness in his tone, I knew they were friends.
“We went to med school together.” He cleared his throat. “He was here the night Dani was brought into the morgue.”
I was glad at least someone had been here for him that night.
“He was the one who called that day, on my deck.”
“Really?” I said, remembering the name, but not bothering to say so.