For a moment, I stood there biting the tip of my thumb and trying not to feel disappointed.
Stop. It was obviously an emergency, or he wouldn’t have taken off so fast.
But it’s my last day here.
Well, tough. Shit happens. And someone needs him more than you do.
But a strange little pit had opened up in my stomach, and as I took off at my warm-up pace down the road, I couldn’t help feeling like something was about to go wrong. Like last night had been too easy. Like all my romantic dreams had simply fallen into my lap without my having to work for them.
If something seems too good to be true, it usually is, right?
Quit it! You’re being ridiculous and insecure. He had an emergency, he’ll be back soon, and you’ll spend the rest of the day together.
Thinking about all the things I had yet to learn about him gave me a surge of adrenaline, and I pushed myself to run faster. We had so many good things ahead of us.
Everything would be fine.
Twenty-Eight
Ryan
On my way out the door to meet Stella, I’d gotten a message from Mack that had me in a panic.
Come to my house. It’s about Bones.
I’d stopped in my tracks and called him, but he hadn’t answered. Then I tried Bones again. No answer.
My heart was thudding with dread. Something wasn’t right.
I made the twenty-minute drive to Mack’s in fourteen minutes, lucky I didn’t get pulled over. I knocked on the door, then let myself in. “Mack?” I called from the front room.
“Back here.”
I followed the sound of his voice to the kitchen, where he sat at the table with his head in his hand and a cup of coffee in front of him. He looked even worse than he had yesterday.
From the adjacent family room, I heard the sounds of singing on TV and high-pitched giggling. “You’ve got the kids?”
“Yeah.” He looked up at me with red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes. “Bones, he …”
“Oh, fuck.” My hands clenched into fists and my neck muscles got tight. “What happened?”
But I knew. I knew what he’d done.
Mack couldn’t bring himself to say it, anyway. He closed his eyes and shook his head.
I swallowed hard against the rising gorge in my throat. “How?” I demanded.
“Shot himself in his bedroom.”
“When?”
“Late Wednesday night. Early Thursday.”
Late Wednesday night. He’d been texting me that night, sending me the picture of Kopecki. What had I said to him? I couldn’t even remember. “Fuck!” I shouted, grabbing onto my skull with both hands. “Fuck!”
I knew Mack’s kids were in the other room, but I couldn’t help it. Self-loathing gnawed at my insides. I felt sick with it. I raced out Mack’s back door into his yard and around the side of the house. Bracing myself against the brick with both arms, I closed my eyes and choked out sobs. I wished I would vomit. I wanted to get rid of this grief that was poisoning me. I wanted to purge the guilt, the sorrow, the knowledge that I could have done more. I could have done more.
I felt like I’d left a brother behind. And I’d never forgive myself for it.
I pounded my fist against the wall. I hid my face in my arm. Heaving breaths shuddered through my chest as I wept silently for the skinny kid from Iowa who survived the war overseas only to succumb to it here.
You can’t let yourself feel! I wanted to go back and scream at him. You can’t look at those pictures, you can’t bring anyone back, you can’t undo any of the things you’ve done. The only thing you can do is bury it all so deeply it can never harm you again. If you don’t, it will kill you.
But Bones hadn’t learned that lesson. Maybe his heart was too big. Maybe he was too young. Maybe he loved too much.
Not me. I knew better. I’d learned that survival took more than honor, courage, and commitment. It took the strength necessary to overcome anything that threatened to weaken you. You had to learn to switch it off, before it took you down.
I pulled myself together and walked back around the house, letting myself in the back door. Mack hadn’t moved. Dropping into the chair across from him, I took a deep breath and confessed. “He reached out to me that night.”
Mack looked up. “He did?”
“Yeah.” My voice cracked. “He sent me a photo of some of us, including Kopecki. Said he missed him.”
“Fuck.”
“I don’t even remember what I said back. Whatever it was, it was wrong.”
“Woods. Don’t.”
“I should have said something else.”
“This isn’t your fault.”
“Then whose fault is it? Huh?” Tears threatened, and I swiped angrily at my eyes. “Whose fault if not mine? He reached out to me. I let him down.”
“No, you didn’t. There’s no way you could have known he was going to do this.”
I leaned my elbows on the table and took my head in my hands. “I want to go back. I want to go back and fucking tell him to stop thinking about Kopecki.”
“That was a fucked-up day that we lost Kopecki.”
“That was my fault too.”
“Fuck off, Woods. It was not.”
“I’d been nice to that kid.”
“We all were.”
“And he turned around and tried to blow us up.”
“Because he wasn’t just a kid, Woods.” Mack’s voice was hard. “He was a soldier.”
“I should have seen it coming. Should have been sharper. I was weak—I felt sorry for him, growing up surrounded by war. ‘What chance does he have?’ I thought. I was soft.”
“You were human, looking for a little humanity among the violence. It’s understandable.”
“But it’s not forgivable.”
Mack didn’t argue. He knew there was no point.
“I talked to Bones’s mom,” he said. “There’s going to be a service next week and she asked if we’d be pallbearers.”
I nodded. I couldn’t speak.
“Daddy, can we have lunch?” A little girl appeared in the kitchen doorway. It looked like Millie, the oldest. She had her mother’s blond hair and Mack’s dark eyes, and she was at that gangly age where her arms and legs looked too long for her body.
Mack cleared his throat. “Yeah. Give me a minute.”
“What are you going to make?” she asked dubiously.
“I don’t know. Chicken nuggets.”
She sighed heavily and turned around, walking back into the family room. “It’s chicken nuggets again, you guys.”
This news was greeted with groaning.
“God, how can they be so sweet one minute and such little assholes the next?” Mack asked.
Any other day, I would have laughed.
My phone buzzed in my back pocket, and I took it out to look at it. It was a text from April Sawyer asking if I could come in. “Shit. I have to go in to work. It’s going to rain and they need to move everything inside.”
Mack nodded.
I replied to April that I’d be there within the hour and shoved my phone back in my pocket.
“You gonna be okay?” he asked, getting up from his chair.
“Fine.” All I had to do was flip the switch so I didn’t have to feel anything—not grief for Bones, not guilt over Kopecki, not regret for all my mistakes.
“Want to grab a beer later?” He pulled a bag of chicken nuggets from the freezer.
“What about the kids?”
“I can try to get a sitter.”
“Okay. Yeah. Let me know.”
It wasn’t until I was on my way home to change that I remembered Stella was waiting for me. Fuck. I was already a shitty boyfriend and we’d only been together for twelve hours.
Because you’re not cut out for this. You’re not capable.
I scowled at the highway in front of me, hating myself for getting into this situation. For allowing myself to fall for her and letting her fall for me. She’d been right to be scared. I was only going to hurt her. Nothing good had ever come of dropping my guard and letting someone in. Of being weak. Of being soft.
Stop. It was obviously an emergency, or he wouldn’t have taken off so fast.
But it’s my last day here.
Well, tough. Shit happens. And someone needs him more than you do.
But a strange little pit had opened up in my stomach, and as I took off at my warm-up pace down the road, I couldn’t help feeling like something was about to go wrong. Like last night had been too easy. Like all my romantic dreams had simply fallen into my lap without my having to work for them.
If something seems too good to be true, it usually is, right?
Quit it! You’re being ridiculous and insecure. He had an emergency, he’ll be back soon, and you’ll spend the rest of the day together.
Thinking about all the things I had yet to learn about him gave me a surge of adrenaline, and I pushed myself to run faster. We had so many good things ahead of us.
Everything would be fine.
Twenty-Eight
Ryan
On my way out the door to meet Stella, I’d gotten a message from Mack that had me in a panic.
Come to my house. It’s about Bones.
I’d stopped in my tracks and called him, but he hadn’t answered. Then I tried Bones again. No answer.
My heart was thudding with dread. Something wasn’t right.
I made the twenty-minute drive to Mack’s in fourteen minutes, lucky I didn’t get pulled over. I knocked on the door, then let myself in. “Mack?” I called from the front room.
“Back here.”
I followed the sound of his voice to the kitchen, where he sat at the table with his head in his hand and a cup of coffee in front of him. He looked even worse than he had yesterday.
From the adjacent family room, I heard the sounds of singing on TV and high-pitched giggling. “You’ve got the kids?”
“Yeah.” He looked up at me with red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes. “Bones, he …”
“Oh, fuck.” My hands clenched into fists and my neck muscles got tight. “What happened?”
But I knew. I knew what he’d done.
Mack couldn’t bring himself to say it, anyway. He closed his eyes and shook his head.
I swallowed hard against the rising gorge in my throat. “How?” I demanded.
“Shot himself in his bedroom.”
“When?”
“Late Wednesday night. Early Thursday.”
Late Wednesday night. He’d been texting me that night, sending me the picture of Kopecki. What had I said to him? I couldn’t even remember. “Fuck!” I shouted, grabbing onto my skull with both hands. “Fuck!”
I knew Mack’s kids were in the other room, but I couldn’t help it. Self-loathing gnawed at my insides. I felt sick with it. I raced out Mack’s back door into his yard and around the side of the house. Bracing myself against the brick with both arms, I closed my eyes and choked out sobs. I wished I would vomit. I wanted to get rid of this grief that was poisoning me. I wanted to purge the guilt, the sorrow, the knowledge that I could have done more. I could have done more.
I felt like I’d left a brother behind. And I’d never forgive myself for it.
I pounded my fist against the wall. I hid my face in my arm. Heaving breaths shuddered through my chest as I wept silently for the skinny kid from Iowa who survived the war overseas only to succumb to it here.
You can’t let yourself feel! I wanted to go back and scream at him. You can’t look at those pictures, you can’t bring anyone back, you can’t undo any of the things you’ve done. The only thing you can do is bury it all so deeply it can never harm you again. If you don’t, it will kill you.
But Bones hadn’t learned that lesson. Maybe his heart was too big. Maybe he was too young. Maybe he loved too much.
Not me. I knew better. I’d learned that survival took more than honor, courage, and commitment. It took the strength necessary to overcome anything that threatened to weaken you. You had to learn to switch it off, before it took you down.
I pulled myself together and walked back around the house, letting myself in the back door. Mack hadn’t moved. Dropping into the chair across from him, I took a deep breath and confessed. “He reached out to me that night.”
Mack looked up. “He did?”
“Yeah.” My voice cracked. “He sent me a photo of some of us, including Kopecki. Said he missed him.”
“Fuck.”
“I don’t even remember what I said back. Whatever it was, it was wrong.”
“Woods. Don’t.”
“I should have said something else.”
“This isn’t your fault.”
“Then whose fault is it? Huh?” Tears threatened, and I swiped angrily at my eyes. “Whose fault if not mine? He reached out to me. I let him down.”
“No, you didn’t. There’s no way you could have known he was going to do this.”
I leaned my elbows on the table and took my head in my hands. “I want to go back. I want to go back and fucking tell him to stop thinking about Kopecki.”
“That was a fucked-up day that we lost Kopecki.”
“That was my fault too.”
“Fuck off, Woods. It was not.”
“I’d been nice to that kid.”
“We all were.”
“And he turned around and tried to blow us up.”
“Because he wasn’t just a kid, Woods.” Mack’s voice was hard. “He was a soldier.”
“I should have seen it coming. Should have been sharper. I was weak—I felt sorry for him, growing up surrounded by war. ‘What chance does he have?’ I thought. I was soft.”
“You were human, looking for a little humanity among the violence. It’s understandable.”
“But it’s not forgivable.”
Mack didn’t argue. He knew there was no point.
“I talked to Bones’s mom,” he said. “There’s going to be a service next week and she asked if we’d be pallbearers.”
I nodded. I couldn’t speak.
“Daddy, can we have lunch?” A little girl appeared in the kitchen doorway. It looked like Millie, the oldest. She had her mother’s blond hair and Mack’s dark eyes, and she was at that gangly age where her arms and legs looked too long for her body.
Mack cleared his throat. “Yeah. Give me a minute.”
“What are you going to make?” she asked dubiously.
“I don’t know. Chicken nuggets.”
She sighed heavily and turned around, walking back into the family room. “It’s chicken nuggets again, you guys.”
This news was greeted with groaning.
“God, how can they be so sweet one minute and such little assholes the next?” Mack asked.
Any other day, I would have laughed.
My phone buzzed in my back pocket, and I took it out to look at it. It was a text from April Sawyer asking if I could come in. “Shit. I have to go in to work. It’s going to rain and they need to move everything inside.”
Mack nodded.
I replied to April that I’d be there within the hour and shoved my phone back in my pocket.
“You gonna be okay?” he asked, getting up from his chair.
“Fine.” All I had to do was flip the switch so I didn’t have to feel anything—not grief for Bones, not guilt over Kopecki, not regret for all my mistakes.
“Want to grab a beer later?” He pulled a bag of chicken nuggets from the freezer.
“What about the kids?”
“I can try to get a sitter.”
“Okay. Yeah. Let me know.”
It wasn’t until I was on my way home to change that I remembered Stella was waiting for me. Fuck. I was already a shitty boyfriend and we’d only been together for twelve hours.
Because you’re not cut out for this. You’re not capable.
I scowled at the highway in front of me, hating myself for getting into this situation. For allowing myself to fall for her and letting her fall for me. She’d been right to be scared. I was only going to hurt her. Nothing good had ever come of dropping my guard and letting someone in. Of being weak. Of being soft.
