Page 87 of The Fall

DALLAS: I wasn’t.

DEAN: I think I knew that deep down.

DALLAS: And still, you stayed away.

DEAN: I regret it.

DALLAS: Goodnight.

Damn, the explanation was so simple. Still, it hurt like hell.

My phone rang in my hand, and I answered quickly, but he didn’t give me a chance to speak. “I never saw myself marrying her or going through with it, not once.” I quickly threw off the covers and snuck downstairs and out the back door. I welcomed the chill in the air as my face heated in anger.

“Why, why didn’t you go through with it? You asked her. You got down on your knee.” My voice cracked on the last word. The thought of him asking her ripped through me painfully.

“You know why.”

“I want to go to sleep,” I said quickly.

“No, you’re angry.”

“Hell yes, I’m angry!” I took deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves. “Let’s not do this,” I pleaded.

“Ask me anything you want,” he encouraged. When I stayed quiet, he continued. “After my dad’s funeral, I came to see you at school.”

I froze.

“I was so fucked up, Dallas, so lost. All I wanted was to see your face. You managed to find me at Columbia, and your campus was so much smaller, but I waited a whole day for just a glimpse of you and didn’t get anything. I thought about us as I waited there, searching for you in vain. When I went home—even though I was still without you—I withdrew from Helena. I never belonged to her. When I decided to move home, I looked you up. I knew you were working at that hospital, and I did what I needed to do to get in there. I didn’t know you were still waiting because if I did—”

“Stop it. Stop. I didn’t get anything from you, not one phone call, not one fucking text, not one email. You gave me nothing! Why didn’t you come to me? Why email my sister? Why couldn’t you have just come to me? I was here. I was waiting. I kept my promise!” I cupped my hand over my mouth to keep him from hearing my sobs. The rejection ripped fresh waves of pain through me as I fought for control.

“I’m coming to you. We can’t do this over the phone.”

“No, answer me,” I said quickly, knowing I would crumble at the sight of him. I had waited a long time for the answers I now knew I deserved.

“I was still trying to figure out how to approach you after all that time. I couldn’t face you being involved with someone else. And eventually, I didn’t care anymore. I wanted to know you again. I had to know you again. I know you don’t believe me, but it’s the truth.”

“You’re right. I don’t believe you, but damn it…Dean, I want to.” My voice shook with emotion, and I was suddenly exhausted. “Dean, I have to go.”

“Talk to me, damn it,” he snapped, clearly frustrated, and I understood it. I wasn’t giving him any help. “I just want to put this behind us.”

“I’m not really good at doing that,” I reminded him. “I want to trust you. I want to trust me.”

“You’re still holding back with me. I know that. We can’t do this the right way if you do that.”

“I know,” I conceded.

We remained quiet for several minutes.

“Ask me,” he prompted. I let the tears trickle down, knowing exactly what he wanted. It had been on the tip of my tongue and was the only question I truly wanted an answer to.

“Why didn’t you keep your promise?”

“I was already engaged,” he said so softly that I had to strain to hear. I nodded, knowing that it was the truth all along.

“I’m fine…I already knew that.”

“I told you I met her the first year, but we didn’t start dating until my second. I wanted to believe that what you and I had was just a young love type of thing. That I would always remember you, but I could move on. That I was right to be in New York and that it was a good thing to try to move forward with Helena. I tried to convince myself that the shooting pains in my chest every time I thought about you would eventually disappear. That the guilt I felt when I had sex with my own fiancée had nothing to do with you. That every time I slipped in the shower and wrapped my fist around myself, it wasn’t you that I was thinking about.

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