Page 105 of Drowning Erin

“No,” he says, indicating the table where Gabi sits, staring vacantly at the wall. “I’m glad you’rehere.”

I take the seat on one side of Gabi, and he takes the other. It’s been a long time since I was this near her, and I have the same desire I did the last time: to shake her, tell her to wake up, to come back, to stop doing this to all ofus.

“It gets easier,” he says softly, looking from my face to Gabi’s. “You get used toit.”

I nod. There’s a lump in my throat, as much for him as for his daughter. I can’t imagine living with this kind of pain, and it’s pain I caused. Gabi is his only child. I think about this every time I hold Caroline—how unbelievably awful it must be to have a lifetime of memories with your little girl, only to lose her. To know you’ll never chat with her at breakfast again or watch her open birthday presents, that she had so many big moments taken from her, all that potentialgone.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you,” he says. “About my wife. I’m sorry about thecalls.”

My gaze rises. The last thing I ever expected from him, or wanted from him, was anapology.

“I’ve tried to stop her, but she waits until I’masleep.”

I swallow hard. “Don’t apologize. I don’t blame her for calling. I deserveit.”

He looks surprised. “I hope you don’t meanthat.”

I stare at my hands as they clench and unclench, and then at Gabi’s hands, now incapable of action orintent.

“What happened…” I say, my jaw tight, “happened because ofme.”

“I loved my daughter,” he says. His eyes tear up a little, making this so much harder to watch. “I will always love my daughter. But she had problems. It’s something my wife never wanted to admit and still won’t admit. She was always dramatic and high strung. You told her no when she was little, and she’d either fly into a rage or weep like her heart was broken.” His small smile at the memory twists. “It was cute at the time. But as she got older it was…less controllable. She was diagnosed as bipolar her freshman year in high school, but I don’t think either of us really knew how bad it was until the first time she tried to commitsuicide.”

He must see the utter shock on my face. “You didn’t know?” heasks.

I shake my head. I had no idea. The only unhappiness I ever saw in Gabi was the unhappiness Icaused.

“Several times, beginning in high school. Sometimes it was over a break-up, but once over a bad grade. I didn’t want her to go pre-med. I didn’t think she could handle the pressure. I didn’t want her going to Italy, either, without one of us with her. My wife, though—she just wanted Gabi to be normal, wanted to believe she was better. She told me your boss knew about Gabi’s history and was going to keep an eye on her. I didn’t learn until much later that that was not thecase.”

I look at Gabi’s face. She’s still beautiful, but she’sgone. I don’t know how he standsit.

“I’m still the one who drove her toit.”

“Brendan, you were a kid. You’re still a kid. People change their minds about a significant other all the time. I can’t tell you how many of my friends are divorced because someone changed their mind 20 or 30 years in. It’s hard, but people are allowed to do that. So for you to take responsibility for all this when you only knew her a few months isinsane.”

“I still shouldn’thave—”

He cuts me off. “Stop trying to convince me you’re at fault. If this hadn’t happened with you, it would have happened soon enough. The first year of medical school? I can’t imagine she’d have made it all the way through. So please move on. And stop taking my wife’s calls. It’s easier for her to blame you than blame herself, but it’s time for her to accept thetruth.”

I sit with the two of them, awed by this man’s ability to forgive. I don’t think I’d be capable of the same. When I leave, I sit in my car, staring out into the darkness and letting everything he told me sinkin.

Maybe it really wasn’t my fault. Maybe it’s just who shewas.

Something begins to loosen inside me, something that’s been strung tight for a long time. And as it starts to spin free, all I can think about isErin.

* * *

Iwakein my apartment the next morning to find reminders of Erin everywhere—the running shoes she never picked up by the door, her moisturizer on my bathroom sink, the holes I’ve put in mywall.

In my closet is the box of mementos Gabi once dumped on the floor. I hate that box, and I hate the moisturizer and all the other shit. I hate them because they remind me Erin’s gone, and that I was so fucking happy when she was here. How could I have ever thought history might repeat itself with her? Erin isn’t Gabi. Hell, of the two of us, I’m the one close to losing it right now, nother.

When I get home the box is still sitting there, and what Will said yesterday finally sinks in: committing to Erin would be easy. It doesn’t scare me in the least, because there’s nothing I wouldn’t give up to have her, and because I know I’m not going to change mymind.

Now I just have to hope that Erin hasn’t changedhers.

73

Erin

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