Page 22 of All the Beautiful Things
“No,” I rasped, barely able to form sounds much less words.
“The same night of your accident, six and a half hours away, my wife was also killed by a drunk driver here. In their case, neither survived.” He rolled his lips together and beat back the emotion I could see threatening to spill from him. “When Melissa met you, she felt drawn to you for a reason she couldn’t have predicted, couldn’t have known, and definitely didn’t understand.”
He reached across the table then and held out his hand, palm up, waiting for me to place mine into his. I did without hesitation. He squeezed my hand firmly, the warmth from him so comforting, so much like Hudson’s, tears fell down my cheeks and I swiped them away with my free hand.
“When you told Melissa your story, she came home in tears, begging us to help you. She begged us so much Hudson lost his mind.”
“Jenna said...” I stopped and cleared my own throat, choked down tears and pain. “Jenna said she was dying. When she came to the prison?”
His lips pushed to one side before nodding. “She went to the doctor for her annual physical and was diagnosed within weeks. It was so late by then… she lived eight more months after.”
“I’m so sorry.” I squeezed his hand to offer him comfort but inside, my chest was rattling. Everything was too tight, like my bones were outgrowing my skin and a chillness swept over me so powerfully I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel warm again.
“She made us promise to help you. Teased Hudson one night it was her dying wish and he had to give that to her. He refused. I believe, even if he believed Melissa when she talked about you, his mom’s death was a stumbling block when it first came to you. That and stubbornly, I think he believed if he refused to grant Melissa’s wish, she’d pull through somehow. And I think now he carries that guilt with him that he couldn’t save her.”
“Jenna said that,” I muttered, not even truly thinking of it that way when she’d said it to me. I closed my eyes and tried to absorb his confessions and admissions, tried to piece them together in a puzzle that would make sense and still came up empty.
For as much as I’d been so angry and hurt, so much of it now made no sense.
And this wasDavid…
“You’ve been through so much,” I said, lamely, for lack of anything better to say. My pulse raced and my head spun. There were so many similarities and so much loss for them.
“Why didn’t you tell me from this beginning?”
David let go of my hand and took a drink of his coffee, settling back in the chair. That familiar pulse of irritation bubbled in me. Was he debating what to say to me? How much honesty to give me?
“David,” I warned.
“It might seem silly. But Melissa, she was my princess, you know? I would deny her nothing.”
“Okay.”
“She liked you for him.”
“What?” I collapsed against my chair, this time, entirely sure I heard him wrong. There was no way. Absolutely no way.
“She said she thought you were pretty, told me once, at the end, that Hudson would like your fire and grit and hidden soft spots she was sure you had, too.”
“Stop.” This was madness.
He kept talking like I hadn’t said a darn thing but inside, my blood was heating. “I needed to wait to see if she was right about you.”
“Stop,” I repeated. My stomach was threatening to heave up everything I’d eaten that day, which admittedly wasn’t much.
He played this game with me to be a matchmaker? He played with mylife? Myheart? And Hudson’s? I didn’t know whether to slap him or hug him but all the pain I felt at hearing his diagnosis and the story of his wife was quickly turning into something else. If I sat through more of this, I might burn the place to ash with my anger.
“I need to go,” I said and grabbed my coat.
He stopped me with three words.
“He’ll need you.” In a rush, he blurted, “He doesn’t know all this, but Melissa talked to me. I needed to know you loved him. That he loved you. That you’ll be there for him. He’ll need that love to help him live.”
I stilled with my coat in my lap and my hands fisting my scarf and hat. He couldn’t be serious. “This is ridiculous.”
“It is. And fantastical, don’t you think? A dating wish and prayer of a girl who saw the best in you and loved her brother beyond reason? I can imagine her now, happily smiling down at us and laughing with glee at how she knew she was right.”
I huffed a laugh. The man could spin such beautiful stories.
