Page 79 of Forgiving Fate

I was right. I didn’t want to be right, but I was. And I hate it. I hate it so freaking much because this isn’t something I can fix. And it’s not because I am nowhere in the right state of mind to help him, it’s because the only person who can fix this disease is himself.

In front of me I see a very broken man who is barely surviving life and the only reason he is, is because he is being held up by the grips of a liquid running through his veins that could kill him at any moment.

Tears flow freely down his face as he turns his body to face me. He leans forward and tugs at his hair, that is longer than normal. Something inside of me feels like it is breaking at the sight of him crumbling in front of me.

His head snaps up. “I thought I was getting better. I was going longer without a drink, but then that fucking dream came again last night and it all came back. I felt proud of myself because in your presence, I can ignore my demons and try to cope with the losses. But then that goddamn dream hit me again out of nowhere and all my willpower was gone. I–I tried Allie, but all I saw was—” He gasps and looks around frantically, fear evident all over his face.

I try to piece together his words, but I am completely lost. What dream?

Landon rocks back and forth and he mumbles under his breath. I try to catch the words, but it’s hard to understand through the tears.

What do I do? What is happening?

His breathing increases and I know he is seconds from passing out. I have to do something.

I can do this.

Reaching out, I touch his shoulder with my uninjured hand and his head snaps up. His eyes are bloodshot and my heart aches.

His eyes dart from side to side and I know he is frantically trying to figure out what is going on and he sits up.

“Landon. You need to breathe. You’re going to pass out.”

“I–”

“Just try. I know you can do it. You are stronger than you think. I promise.”

Landon frantically nods, and I mimic the motions of deep breathing to match his own movements as I rub my hand up and down his arm.

Slowly, his body starts to settle and I can tell he wants to slip his mask on, but before he can, I say, “Don’t. Stay at this moment. You don’t have to talk, but don’t slip back into that void.”

His eyes close for a brief moment and he moves his hand to rest on top of mine, intertwining his pinky with mine. The action stuns me for a moment, but watching his body slowly calm down makes the worry go away.

Avoiding my gaze, he says, “I keep seeing you dead.”

“What?” My eyes go wide and I stare at him like he just spoke in a different language.

“The nightmare? I keep seeing you dead. I have the same reoccurring dream. I come over, see blood in the kitchen, and find you dead.”

Words fail me. Why does he keep dreaming me about me dying?

“The first time, my parents found me outside, passed out next to my truck. That was after we didn’t have our routine. Then Christmas happened, and I thought I was dreaming…but I wasn’t. I barely slept on the mission, so when I came home and was exhausted. So I let the voices in my head win, only to be woken up by the same dream. Except this time I made it out of my driveway.”

This is all my fault. I triggered him. I caused him to take forty steps back. I am the reason he broke into my house, which ended in him getting stabbed. It’s all my fault.

“Al. Look at me.” Landon’s voice cuts through my spiral and I open my eyes, which I didn’t realize were closed.

“This is not your fault. You are not the cause of my nightmare. I’ve had nightmares for years. I have just never tried so hard in them to save someone. And maybe it’s because I already knew they were gone, so I didn’t try as hard. But with you, I know you’re here. I know you are living and breathing, but in my dreams, you slip through my fingers. And every time it feels more and more real. And this time…yeah.” He shakes his head and his words trail off.

We sit in silence, our hands still interlocked. I try to process everything. But it all keeps coming down to the same few principles.

I was right, and I didn’t want to be.

I stabbed Landon.

We are both full of pain and heartache beyond compare. We were strangers just a few months ago until the universe threw us together. Landon has become the friend I never expected to need or even want, but even after hearing what lies beyond the pain and the nagging thought that I may never be able to help him, Istill wouldn’t change it being him that picked me up on the side of the road if I could.

Call me crazy. Call it the pain. But in this moment, I truly believe that two individuals can coexist and try to heal themselves while existing on a parallel path to the unknown.

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