Page 181 of Whistle

“She still doesn’t know.” It wasn’t a question.

“I’m going to tell her. I already made plans to have dinner with her.”

The blue in his eyes lit up. It hurt my heart to see that hope mingled with surprise as if he really thought I’d keep him a secret forever.

“I was always going to tell her. Always. I’m sorry it took so long to get here. That I made you feel like a secret. I just kept my life so structured and neat for so long. At first, out of survival and then, much later, out of routine and comfort.”

“Because of Lance.”

I braced myself for the pain that hearing that name always caused. It was there, but it was muted somehow as though he was no longer the thing that defined my life.

It was stunning, nearly breathtaking, to suddenly feel free from something that had shackled me for so long. I could stretch now. Grow.

What an overwhelming realization for a man who’d spent so much time surviving that he never had time to truly live.

When I didn’t answer, Bodhi sat up, the gown sliding down to reveal his collarbone and part of one shoulder. “Em?”

“Yeah, baby. Because of Lance.”

“Why didn’t you tell me the way he died?” he asked.

“Because I was afraid. Because it’s my fault he’s dead.”

He gasped. “I told you before that his death is not your fault!”

I looked him in the eyes. “You still think that? Even now that you know how he died?”

“Em,” Bodhi implored, placing a palm against my chest and leaning in. “I am surer now than ever. Lance’s suicide is not something you caused.”

I shook my head. “I put too much pressure on him. I was selfish. Too focused on how I felt to see how much he was struggling. And he paid for it. With his life.”

Bodhi considered my words as if he was really weighing them to see if he also agreed. I really appreciated that in the moment. The way he stopped to think and didn’t just once again insist this was absolutely not my fault. It made my feelings somehow more… valid. And yeah, I knew feeling them made them valid enough, but it was different when someone else, someone I honestly cared about, really considered them.

It was probably the first time since meeting Bodhi that our age difference didn’t seem to matter. Though he was much younger than me, our life experiences seemed to run parallel—not in every way but in the ways that mattered most. Because after everything, I could see how my Goldilocks was far older than the calendar implied. And me? We already established I was sort of like Encino Man. Frozen in time. So maybe I was a little younger than my forty years.

“I think,” Bodhi reflected, “Lance was probably in a really dark place. A complicated, dark place he didn’t want anyone else to know about.”

I could agree with that. Even still, “I should have known.”

“Why? Because you loved him?” It was a bold, point-blank statement, and honestly, it drew me up short.

And just like the little brat he was, he sensed he was chipping away at me and went in for the kill. “Loving someone isn’t knowing their every thought.” His voice was soft. Empathetic even. “It’s not a crystal ball. And as much as everyone wants to believe, love isn’t a cure for everything.”

Moving from my side, Bodhi climbed into my lap, hiking the gown up around his thighs so he could straddle me. When he was settled, he leaned forward to lie across my chest and tuck his head right under my chin. Because he still felt colder than I would have liked, I tugged the blankets over us both.

“You’ve blamed yourself for a long time.” He went on, voice filling the small, impersonal room and somehow making it feel intimate. “The idea of you living the last twenty years of your life in a prison of your own making seems unfathomable. You deserve so much better, Em.”

Again, his acknowledgment of something I carried around alone eased something inside me as though he was unburdening a piece of my soul.

Overwhelmed and maybe a little in awe of him, I said, “I was the one who came to save you.” It was me who went across the country and bartered a deal, promising to look out for him and keep him out of trouble. It was me who jumped off the bridge, risked my life to save his.

But it was him who reached into my chest and resuscitated my heart.

Bodhi sat up just enough to meet my stare. “I don’t think either one of us needs saving, Em.”

“No?”

He shook his head. “We just needed love.”

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