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I reminded myself she was married. Another man had fathered her babies. She had a home, a life. She was never truly mine, nor was I ever hers, yet she was here, begging me.
Please, please, please .
I stumbled off the railing, falling back with a sob. Laura rushed forward, wrapping her arms around me, her heartbeat hammering against my chest as we crumpled to the sidewalk, where I cried and she cried with me and I wished it were her that blinking light was meant to guide me to.
She held her hands to my cheeks as she looked into my eyes and spoke, her lips moving in the glow of the above lampposts.
Her voice came out in a muffled whisper, like she was speaking beneath a thousand pillows, and I shook my head, desperate to hear her.
Confusion washed over her features, but she continued to talk, pointing to her ears.
Can you hear me? I imagined her saying, and I shook my head.
She narrowed her eyes, putting the pieces together herself without knowing the story.
“Come with me,” I said, standing and reaching down to take her hand and hoist her up. I led her to my truck, opened the door, and put my hearing aids back in. “Okay. What were you saying?”
A wash of sadness blanketed her face. “Your ears …”
“I lost my hearing in the war,” I explained vaguely.
“I’m so sorry, Max. ”
It was so nice to hear my name come from her lips. God, it was so nice to see her, to be here with her, and I had to remind myself again that it didn’t matter.
“Is that why you …” She couldn’t finish her sentence, but instead cast her gaze toward the bridge.
I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t know how to explain that the reason I wanted to end my life was because everyone else’s would be better off. I didn’t know how to say it in a way she would understand, so I just shook my head, keeping it simple with yes or no answers.
“Well, I’m glad I stopped you,” she replied.
I wasn’t, but I couldn’t tell her that. She thought she’d saved me, and I wouldn’t erase that from her conscience.
So, I smiled while simultaneously wondering how quickly I could make her leave.
If I was going to jump, I wanted to do it soon.
Before I really did become the coward my father claimed me to be.
“Did you see your sisters tonight?” Laura asked.
“Yeah, I just came from my parents’ house.”
She opened her mouth to say something else, then stopped herself while her eyes widened and her chin lifted, as if realization had just dawned on her.
“Your father.”
I swallowed the lump that’d begun to build in my throat. “Still alive and as wonderful as ever.”
“Did you get into a fight?”
I was in no mood to play twenty questions, but I shook my head. “Not really. He’s just pissed that I’m still alive.”
“Max … ”
My impatience had worn too thin, and I shrugged.
“Laura, listen. I appreciate you caring enough to stop—I really do. You have a good heart; you always have. But it’s fucking Christmas Eve.
I’m sure you have better things to do than to try and figure out what fucked-up shit is going on in my head to make me want to jump off a fucking bridge.
You already did your good deed, so go. Be with your husband and your kids and your nice little family and—"
“ Ex -husband,” she interjected hesitantly.
My brow crumpled as I looked at her with narrowed eyes. “What?”
She coughed awkwardly and nodded, looking out toward the water. Maybe she also saw the lighthouse in the distance, its light winking across the still water.
“Our divorce was finalized last month. He took the kids to his parents’ house tonight, so …
” She shrugged helplessly, and for the first time, I realized that maybe she’d been fighting her own internal battle.
“I was at my parents’ house. They moved to the shore a few years ago, so I thought I’d have dinner over there, maybe help them wrap some presents or something, but I just ended up crying in their bathroom all night with half a bottle of …
something … I don’t know. I thought I’d take a walk to try and sober up, and that’s when I saw someone standing over here, ready to jump.
I had no idea it was you. I wish it hadn’t been, but …
” She sucked in a deep breath and exhaled, a silvery cloud permeating the space between us.
“It’s just … God, it’s so good to see you, Max.
I … I thought about calling so many times.
I thought about it a lot, but I d idn’t know if I should, but here you are, and I can’t help but think that maybe … ”
“Maybe what?”
She shuddered with a gentle sob, and then she was crying again. “Maybe this is fate.”
Fate .
It was almost a laughable concept … or was it? What were the chances that tonight, just before I was about to jump over the side of the bridge to certain death, Laura, of all people, would come by to stop me? Recently divorced Laura. Alone and lonely Laura. The-first-love-of-my-life Laura.
“Maybe it is,” I conceded.
She gnawed on her bottom lip for a moment, her eyes fixed on somewhere in the distance. I turned to follow her gaze and found the lighthouse, calling to us both.
“Do you …” she began to ask, but stopped herself.
“What?”
She filled her lungs, then released as she said, “Do you want to come home with me?”
Go , the light said as it flashed by. Go with her. Go home .
So, I nodded and whispered, “Yes.”
Table of Contents
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