Page 70 of Stone Promises

Her chin quivers and she swallows hard. “Chad, just say what you’re going to say. Why did you even bother bringing me in here? Why did you come after me when you haveherto go back to?”

“Megan isn’t my girlfriend,” I tell her. “She isn’t my mistress or my fuck-buddy or even a one-night stand. Whatever you think she is, I assure you it couldn’t be farther from the truth.”

“I know what I saw on your phone. She said she needed you. She said she . . . l-loves you and . . . y-you said it back.” Her voice trembles as more tears pool in her eyes. “She thanked you for a quickie. And she called you Chad. Nobody calls you Chad unless they are very important to you.”

I nod. “Sheisvery important to me, Mal. Besides you, she may be the most important person in my life.”

She shakes her head. “You’re confusing me. You say you aren’t cheating on me, yet you’ve hidden her from me. Why would you do that? Who is she?”

“Check your phone,” I say.

“Why?”

“I had Cole call my lawyer and he emailed you everything you need to read.”

“Why can’t you just tell me?” She eyes me skeptically.

“I could tell you, but I’m not sure you’ll believe me. I want you to read about it for yourself.”

She reluctantly pulls out her phone and checks her mail. I know it will give her the information she needs. I just hope once she’s done reading, she doesn’t get up and walk out of my life.

It takes her a while to get through the document my lawyer sent. I can see every emotion as it crosses her face. I can see the shock that lets me know she’s reading about the accident I had when I was stoned out of my mind. I can see the sadness when she reads about a fifteen-year-old girl who was sent to the hospital in a coma because I had t-boned the side of her dad’s car. I cringe when a hand flies to her mouth to stop her startled gasp as she reads about the leg the girl had amputated in the aftermath.

She finishes the article, looking up at me with red-rimmed eyes. “Oh my God. Why didn’t I ever hear about this?”

“Probably because I have a damn good lawyer,” I say. “He did a lot of damage control and the particulars of the accident were never released because Megan was a minor. Also, Megan’s dad was sympathetic to me because he was drunk at the time, only he wasn’t tested because the accident was my fault. It was a huge wake-up call for both of us. I went to rehab for four weeks, and then I paid all her medical bills.”

“But why didn’t you tell me?” she asks.

“You know why,” I say, sick guilt rolling through me in punishing waves. “Your mom was killed by a drunk driver. I thought you’d hate me. I was sure you couldn’t be with someone who’d done what I’d done.”

She closes her eyes and I know she’s thinking of her mom. “Why didn’t you go to jail?” she asks.

“I almost did.”I should have. I run a hand through my hair. “Ron, that’s my lawyer, pulled some strings and got them to let me go right to rehab from the holding facility, putting off my arraignment in the process. And by the time I got out of rehab and met with Megan’s dad, he’d had a lot of time to think about things. He said it very well could have been him. That he had driven drunk more times than he could count. That’s why he wasn’t going to sue me for everything I was worth. And believe me, they could have used the money. He’s a construction worker and his wife is in retail management. He thanked me, can you believe it? He thanked me for getting him to quit drinking. It’s then that I told him I wanted to pay for Megan’s college education.”

I shake my head still not believing how much that family has done for me. “Can you believe he showed up at my arraignment and asked the judge not to put me in jail? He asked him to sentence me to community service, taking Megan to all her rehab appointments and working with other amputees. It was hard at first because Megan hated me for taking her leg, but it turned out to be one of the greatest things I’d ever experienced. I think her dad knew all along that she’d come around. He once told me she’d watched every episode ofMalibua hundred times.

“Megan and I grew on each other. The kid is smart. Like rocket scientist smart. And that first year, during the time her stump healed but before she got the Cadillac of all prosthetics, she studied her ass off to try to get into a good college. Before the accident, she was a C student at best. Now, she’s going to graduate with honors. And she’s been accepted to both MIT and Harvard. She wants to make advancements in the world of bionic prosthetics. Oh, and she took up running. She got a silver medal in the Paralympics last summer.”

“You’re kidding me?” Mallory says, looking surprised. So many emotions bleed from her eyes right now. Pain. Disbelief. Ambivalence.

She points to my phone. “Tell me about the texts. The‘I love yous’and the‘quickie.’”

“Prom dress crisis,” I say.

“Come again?”

I nod. “She found a dress she loved, and the store let her bring it home for the afternoon before buying it so she could try on her various prosthetics with it. She has several. One for running, one for when she wears flat shoes, and one for heels. She even has one she can swim with. She wanted me to come over and make sure I knew the exact color tie to get. And also to get my opinion about whether she looked fat in it or not.” I motion to my phone. “The quickie thing was just a poor choice of words on her part. But yes, I love her. I love her like a sister, Mal.”

“Let me get this straight,” she says. “You did cocaine and then drove a car, causing this girl to lose her leg. That prompted you to get sober and make friends with Megan, who then decided to go to college to change the world. College she couldn’t afford unless you paid for it.” She shakes her head. “And you’re taking her to her prom?”

“Uh . . . I guess that about sums it up.” I sit in the chair next to her. “Are you going to leave me now?”

“Leave you?” she says. She turns to face me and takes my hand. “Chad, I believe everything in this world happens for a reason. If you’d never had the accident, you might still be using drugs. You might even be dead.”

“She lost her leg, Mallory. Because ofme. There is no reason for it. I’d rather be dead myself than have put her through that.” I hang my head down.

Mallory puts a finger under my chin and forces me to look at her. “If Megan hadn’t been the one you hit, she never would be going on to college. She never would have won an Olympic medal. She never would have had this incredible friendship with you—her idol. And her dad might never have gotten sober. I’m not saying it was good that it happened, but look at the facts; despite her losing her leg, all of your lives are better off, wouldn’t you say?”

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