Out of the Shallows (Into the Deep #2)(47)
Author: Samantha Young

They deserved the joy they’d found. I had to find time to tell Claud that because every time she looked at me, I saw guilt in her eyes, like she felt bad for being happy when I was more miserable than I’d ever been in my life.

It was time to remind her that that wasn’t how real friendship worked.

I chewed on a pickle as I watched Jake sit on the bed opposite me. He unwrapped his burger but he didn’t lift it to his mouth right away. Instead, he sighed.

“What’s going on with you, Charley?” His dark eyes pierced through me. “And not just why you broke up with me… Everything. Because right now—this person you’ve become, it isn’t you. You know it isn’t you because your light has gone out. You’re somewhere dark right now and I’m worried sick about you.”

Your light has gone out. It sounded so permanent. Like my light wasn’t switched off, but broken.

Tears stung the back of my eyes and I took another bite of my burger to have something to concentrate on, something that would focus the tears away.

Finally when I felt in control, I met his gaze. “I haven’t seen or spoken to Andie since before she woke up out of the coma.”

That surprised him. “How? What… I’m confused.”

And so I tried to explain.

“You remember I was there every day while she was in the coma?”

“Of course.”

“Something… something happened to me when she woke up.” I shook my head, feeling the bottled emotion in me well up. “I tried to take a step into the hospital room but I just couldn’t. I felt paralyzed.” I dashed away a tear that slipped down my cheek. “And somehow I haven’t stopped feeling that way.”

Jake leaned forward, his brows drawn together in concern. “Baby, paralyzed? Why?”

“You’re not going to like that answer.”

“Give it to me anyway.”

I pushed my half-eaten food away and drew my knees up to my chest. “The whole time Andie lay in that hospital bed, breathing through a ventilator, I couldn’t shake the guilt. I couldn’t shake the fact that I hadn’t spoken to my sister—one of my best friends—in weeks… because of you.” Forcing myself to be brave, I looked at him. He’d grown pale with realization. “I didn’t blame you directly, Jake. I blamed me. I resented myself for making that choice, for putting you before my family. I didn’t know how to talk to you or be around you during it all because you reminded me of all the bad decisions I’d made regarding Andie and my parents.”

Jake blew air out between his lips and whispered, “Fuck,” as he dragged a shaky hand through his hair. “You have no idea how much I get that, Charley. I wish you’d told me that was how you were feeling.”

Surprise shot through me. “I don’t understand.”

“After Brett died, I was filled with this irrational guilt,” he explained, the steadiness of his words testament to how far he’d come emotionally since Brett’s death. “At the time it didn’t feel irrational. I truly believed that there was something I could’ve done to avoid that outcome. And there was a huge part of me that couldn’t separate you from Brett’s death. I couldn’t be around you because of it.”

As I processed this, the love I felt for Jake seemed to grow too big, too much, and I ducked my head to break our eye contact. There was so much relief that he understood me, but more than that, I was in awe of his understanding and compassion.

“I should’ve told you,” I said softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you that chance.”

“I forgive you.”

“Why?” I laughed unhappily.

“Because,” he said, his countenance solemn, “you forgave me.”

I started to smile but it wobbled as the tears spilled down my cheeks without control. “I’m such a mess, Jake. I look in the mirror and I don’t recognize myself.”

Suddenly he was there beside me, holding me as I sobbed into his shoulder.

Once I’d soaked his shirt through, he got up and strode into the bathroom, returning with toilet tissue so I could wipe my tears and blow my nose.

“I’m sorry,” I told him, still shaking.

“You don’t have to be.” He tucked my hair behind my ear and smiled kindly. “So why don’t you recognize yourself?”

Bunching the used tissue in my hand, I shrugged. “I used to be able to put my fear aside in most situations. But when it comes to the people I love, I seem to fall apart. When you left when I was sixteen, it took me a long time to stop moping around and start living again, and now with Andie… it’s happening all over again except it’s worse this time—more complicated.”

“Explain it to me,” he encouraged.

I studied his gorgeous face, his patient, soulful eyes. “You’ll think I’m crazy. Or worse… you’ll hate me.”

Jake frowned. “You know when I said I hated you… I didn’t mean it. I was just pissed off.”

“I know,” I said. “But now you might really hate me.”

“Try me. I might surprise you.”

Taking a sip of my drink, I stalled a moment, gathering the remnants of my courage. “When Andie was lying there in that hospital bed, I watched Rick fall apart, but worse I watched my parents fall apart. It scared the hell out of me, Jake. Jim and Delia Redford do not fall apart. They’re the strongest people I know. But as one day crept into the next, I watched them age, I watched them crumble, and there was nothing I could do to help them. I’d failed Andie and now I was failing them. I felt like her accident was punishment. That I was to blame for it. Which made the fact that I couldn’t do anything to fix it or my parents even worse.”

“How was it your fault?”

“Because of the way I treated her before it happened. Because we hadn’t spoken since I’d told her to f**k off… because,” my voice lowered, “I wasn’t there this time to shove her out of the way, to save her.”

“Charley, somewhere deep down you know that’s not true.”

I shook my head. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel that way, that I don’t feel to blame, ashamed and guilty as hell.”

“And this is why you haven’t spoken to Andie? Because you feel like her accident was your fault to begin with?”

“That,” I drew in a deep breath, bracing myself to tell him the whole crazy truth, “and because there’s this sick, dark little part of me that resents her.”