Page 40 of Meet Me at the Metro (Gildenhill #1)

40

DESERVING TRUTHS

T H E O

A serene stillness blankets Nora and me as I lead her through the quiet graveyard on the outskirts of London. The grass is wet beneath our feet as we walk past the rows of new and old headstones, and for the first time since I’ve visited Dad’s grave, I don’t find myself dreading it.

I can’t explain it, but right now, with her beside me—even in the absence of words—I feel at peace.

The sky is a dark mass above us, accompanying us like an old, familiar friend as we weave through the memorials of once-living souls. Usually, I’d find myself hating this walk, dreading every languid step I took that put me closer to facing the nightmare that was my father’s death, but this time was different. With Nora beside me, this walk felt like a sense of closure.

“Almost there,” I say quietly, naturally pulling Nora’s body closer to mine.

She’s shivering against me but hasn’t dared complain about being cold—s tubborn thing— so I wrap the jacket I offered her outside of the hospital tighter against her shoulders and hope it’s enough to warm her. I wouldn’t make this trip long, but I needed her to know the truth about my dad. I couldn’t bear keeping it from her any second longer.

Nora, of all people, deserved to know it .

The silhouette of a willow tree appears ahead.I nod toward it, somehow managing to hold my composure together as my eyes adjust to the shadows and find the grave lingering beneath it.

Nora remains quiet as we reach it, and I watch her as she reads over the words engraved in the thick, gray stone.

Theodore Isaac Pearson

1962-2014.

A small, bittersweet smile tilts the corners of her lips. “You have his name.”

Something about those words tugs right at my heartstrings, encompassing years of grief I’ve never let myself fully process.

I stifle the tears threatening my eyes as Nora’s fingers lace into mine. “If you aren’t ready to talk about it— about him —that’s okay, too, Theo.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I’m ready. I really am.”

“Then, I’m ready, too. I’m right here to listen.”

I clear my throat, forcing the lump growing at the back of it away before I find the courage to tell her, “I’ve always felt reluctant to tell anyone what happened that day, but I—I feel safe enough to tell you...”

The cold winter breeze whizzes against my skin as we make our way down the slick, wet pavement of the city sidewalk. Kimberley and my stepbrother walk ahead of us, laughing at the stupid joke my dad just made. I’m filled with absolute gratitude as I watch them.

Our lives look so much different now than before they came into the picture six years ago.

Everything feels so complete with the four of us.

Dad’s hand finds my back, and when I look over at him, he smiles knowingly, like he reads and shares my exact thoughts.

“Almost there,” Kimberley croons as our yearly destination appears ahead.

This place has become my absolute favorite family tradition.

Hyde Park in London was beautiful in the warmer seasons, with its wide-open grasses and verdant oak trees, but it turned into an absolute vision during the winter months when it was transformed into a Winter Wonderland .

Bright, twinkling lights greet our eyes in every direction they glance as we step through the threshold of the massive Christmas market. Amusement rides hum and spin to life, emanating laughter and joyous hollers. Holiday music blares from food vendors and stalls, spreading festive cheer, while sweet-smelling smoke billows above the wonder of it all. The sounds of skates gliding against ice become more distinct as we walk through the maze of booths scattered throughout the park, but it’s the click of the roller coaster track looming in the distance that grabs my attention the most.

“Are you going to chicken out again like last year or ride it with me this time?” I taunt, giving Connor a playful shove.

He pushes me right back. “I didn’t chicken out! I told you that I had too much funnel cake.”

I roll my eyes.“Mhmm, I’m sure.”

“You look bloody ugly when you do that, you know?”

“Do I now?”

He nods. “Yeah, you do.”

I yank him toward me, pulling him into a lighthearted choke hold as my knuckles reward the top of his head with a hard noogie.

“Get off!” he protests, breathless with laughter.

“Not until you tell me I’m pretty.”

He grunts. “Never going to happen.”

An arm wraps around me from behind, rendering me vulnerable as it traps me in the same hold I have on Connor.

“Pick on someone your own size, won’t you?” Dad mocks, roughly tugging at my hair.

“Fine, fine! I tap out!” I relent, releasing Connor as I swat Dad away.

“What was that? You what?”

“I tap out! I tap out!” I’m smoothing down my disheveled hair the second he lets me go. “For such an old man, you sure do have an arm on you.”

That earns me a challenging glare that promises revenge for my backhanded comment, but Kimberley quickly intervenes. “Don’t you dare start up again! One of these days, you boys will hurt yourselves with all that horseplay.”

“Serves them right,” Dad quips.

“You three are a mess.”

“And you love us the more for it,” he goads, pulling Kim into his arms and placing a loving kiss against her temple.

The lights of the winding rollercoaster glow brighter the closer we approach it, enticing me to hurry and join the lengthy queue stretched along its perimeter.

I dash for it, tossing my head back to bait Connor. “You coming or what?”

“I think I’ll just watch this first time! Just observe, and then maybe—”

“Chicken!”

As I join the end of the line, Connor flips me the bird in the distance, and I snort as Kim swats his vulgar gesture away. Dad’s shaking his head, laughing at the ridiculous scene of it all.

My stepmum was right, the three of us were a damn mess with all the aggravating we ensued on each other, but it made things fun—made things lighthearted again.

Kimberley, Connor, and Dad watch me slowly—impatiently—file through the line. Several minutes, though it feels like hours, pass before the ride attendant finally ushers me through the gate. I glance back toward my family when I find my seat at the back of the coaster, chuckling to myself at the sight of them huddled in the cold, picking apart the oversized candy floss now held in Connor’s hand.

I’m confident that he won’t be joining me for the second ride, and I’m willing to bet he’ll blame it on that damn candy floss.

I’m a ball of pure adrenaline as the ride’s carts begin clicking up the track, taunting riders with a guaranteed thrill as it lifts us toward the first peak. However, when the coaster is about to take its first descent, a horrified scream echoes from somewhere off the ride. The raw sound of it has my excitement quickly morphing into unease.

The passengers in the rows ahead of me peer back to the bustling market below, and when I see their eyes widen, I’m compelled to look, too.

I jerk my head back to get a glance, but I can’t quite decipher the scene unfolding .

All I can see is people running, scattering like scared fish in a tank. I shiver as horrified shouts rip through the air, growing so loud I can hear them clearly, even over the constant noisy clicking of the rollercoaster.

For a moment, the ride halts, becoming still enough for me to see it—the white cargo van weaving recklessly between the stalls and smaller amusement rides, driving through hordes of people lucky enough to dodge it in the knick of time.

Then, suddenly, the rush of hot air steals my breath as the roller coaster abruptly drops, plummeting down into the ride’s first valley. Bellows and screams haunt me as the coaster races down the track, and I’m rendered powerless to help, so far removed from horrors my eyes can’t see anymore.

Oh my God, my family.

They’re down there now, trapped in the thick of it. I don’t let myself contemplate it—consider that those shrieks could be coming from them. However, every speedy hurdle, dip, and loop the carts make has my mind falling deeper into a sea of doubt.

A sea of unfathomable terror.

It feels like an eternity before we come screeching to a halt at the end of the roller coaster’s circuit. The attendant’s eyes are frozen over with fear when we arrive, but the second we’re beneath the awning we started at, my hands are pushing frantically against the lap bar, locking me in place.

“Let us off!” I shout, wrestling to free myself as the sound of metal scraping ricochets from somewhere in the distance.

“You all need to stay where you are,” he instructs, hands trembling as he brings a walkie-talkie to his ear. He’s listening to someone speaking on the other end, but it’s not discernable over the worried chatter of my fellow passengers.

A couple in a cart ahead tries rising from their seat. “What is going on?”

“E-e-everyone, please just stay calm.”

I don’t give a fuck as to what’s going on, I want off. I need to get to my family. I’ve got to find them right now.

“Let me off!” I wildly protest, thrashing and kicking in a demand to be heard. “Let me out, dammit!”

Despite his reluctance, the attendant presses a button at his operation stand, and the bar releases against my lap. I fly up with it, scrambling off the ride before anyone can stop me. Someone’s calling out from behind, but I don’t let their objections slow me as I vault over the gates and stomp down the metal ramp at the ride’s exit.

My heart is thundering as I sprint to where I last saw them, but there are so many people scrambling for refuge and so much scattered debris from once-standing structures that I can hardly make anything out.

“Dad!” I scream, frantically searching for any sign of him or the others. My voice is hardly detectable over the commotion expanding all around me. “Kimberly! Connor!”

Where are they? Where are they? Where are they?

I run back and forth in the pandemonium, circling at every turn I make where their faces don’t seem present. I’m lost in a sea of frightened bodies, none belonging to any of the three people I love the most.

I’m panicking.

Why can’t I find them? Where did they go?

A horrendous bang splits through the air, so close to me and so startling I halt dead in my tracks.

“Oh God!”

“Help!”

“Someone’s been hit!”

“Are they okay? Are they moving?”

“Somebody help!”

Up ahead, white smoke billows, clouding the air. I run straight toward it, letting it guide me as I elbow my way through a horde of people quickly gathering around to observe what I can only imagine is an alarming scene.

I can’t believe my eyes when I reach the center of the mass.

The white cargo van I spotted earlier is now nothing but a heap of crushed, mangled metal. Its hood is bent around the solid utility pole it crashed into, spitting furious fumes.

It’s the sight of my brother standing frozen beside the wreckage that has my blood icing over .

“Connor!” I yell, running for him. “What happened?! Where’s Kimberley? Where’s—DAD!”

No. No. No. No.

It’s not him. It can’t be him.

I refuse to believe that the man, whose disfigured body is now pinned between the vehicle and the pole, is the same one I was teasing and laughing with only a handful of minutes ago.

However, brutal realization forces me to face reality.

“Oh, God! Dad! Oh, God!”

Connor falls to his knees, crumbling right before me. His eyes are glazed over with utter fright—shock.

“What happened?! What the hell happened?! Answer me! Get up! Get the fuck up, Connor!”

My stepbrother remains as still as a statue, but I don’t linger around and wait for him to move. I hurry straight toward my dad. “Someone help me! For God’s sake, someone fucking help me!”

Men and women rush to bring me aid, working collectively to shove the van back. I hold Dad’s limp body in my arms as the tires roll back, catching the weight of him when he’s finally unpinned from the mass of the van.

I lend Dad my full attention even as a flash of bodies moves to aid the driver left in the crumpled van, and the surrounding bystanders speak back and forth.

“Did someone call an ambulance?”

“Yes, they’re coming.”

My hands are trembling as I pull my dad’s maimed body into my arms, clutching him fiercely. “I-it’s going to be okay. Y-you’re alright. I’m right here. R-r-right here, Dad. I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m not leaving you. You’re going to pull through this. You’re going to be okay. I love you. I love you so much, Dad...”

Nora’s hand tightening around mine is the only anchor holding my mind from losing itself in the recollection of that night— my father’s death .

“ Theo,” she breathes. “I can’t imagine. I’m so sorry. No one should ever have to experience something like that.”

Her arms wrap around me, offering a sense of comfort I never thought I’d be capable of experiencing after my father’s death—one I’ve never felt that I deserved.

Nora is solace.

I lift her into my arms, deepening our embrace as I nuzzle my head between the crook of her neck and breathe in her scent.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to tell you.”

“No. Do not apologize, Theo. Look at me. I will never be mad at you for waiting to tell me about your dad until you were ready. You understand?”

I nod in acknowledgment.

Nora holds so much of the world’s grace at just her fingertips. A single word from her could silence every remnant of self-loathing inside me forever. It could rock every fragment of guilt or blame that I possess to sleep. I only hope to offer her the same consolation she so often lends me.

“I didn’t want to weigh you down with the truth,” I confess, eyes watering with tears of relief— freedom . “Somedays, it feels like I can hardly bear to carry it myself, and you already take on so much that isn’t yours. I was scared it would all be too heavy for you.”

With glassy eyes and a flushed nose, she says, “Then you underestimate my strength.”

I let out a soft, strained chuckle at that. “I know better than to do that now . My stubborn thing. ”

With a gentle knuckle, I guide the stray strands of her honey-brown hair away from her face. She gifts me a brief flash of her gorgeous smile before it fades into a solemn expression again, and she tentatively asks, “Whatever happened to the driver? Why would someone do what they did?”

I try to stifle the sudden heat of anger rushing through my veins before I grant her an answer. “Because he was drunk and selfish enough to put himself behind a steering wheel. But you know what the most fucked up part about it is?”

“Hmm?”

“I still find ways to blame myself. ”

Nora shakes her head vehemently. “It was never your fault.”

“Then, if you can believe that for me, I need you to believe it for yourself, alright? What happened to Harvey isn’t your fault. Promise me that you’ll at least try to believe that for me.”

“I promise I’ll try .” I draw her into my arms, fighting the cold of the early morning together. After a long moment of quiet, Nora admits, “I’m so worried for Harvey.”

It was a fight to overcome the surge of emotions threatening to steal my sanity at the reminder of my friend. “I am, too. But I know he’ll pull through this. Harv’s resilient.”

“What if they can’t find John, though? W-what if he tries doing this again?”

“I’m not going to let him hurt you again.”

“I’m more worried about you. What if, even after tonight, he’s not done? What if they don’t find him before he comes looking for you again?”

“I’m going to be okay,” I lie, unable to guarantee her any ounce of truth to that statement. Until the police find John, there’s a risk. “They’ll find him.”

Nora goes silent beside me, undoubtedly losing herself in the roaring thoughts inside her head. I say what I can to keep her from slipping back into trepidation again.

“I love you. You know that?”

“I love you, Teddy. ”

“We’ll make it through this,” I tell her, honestly, this time.

We quietly watch as the rising sun peeks over the horizon in the distance, painting the black sky a deep, rich purple, and as I stare off into it, I really believe it—that we’ll be alright. With her by my side, I know it has the potential to be true.

Because, after all, she and I are just as deserving of a happy ending as anyone else in this damn world.