Page 7 of Needing to Fall
At his name, Andi’s comforting arms tightened and her body stilled. She gasped, “What?”
I had told Andi everything about Drew, so she knew how much I loved him with everything I had. She knew every little, minute detail about our time together, including the crushing feeling his death had on me that I continued to carry around.
I pulled away, swiping the tears and snot covering my face. “I had Drew checked out by a guy I know from the bar. He found him, and he’s alive.”
“I…” She faltered. “Can you trust whoever this guy is that he’s telling you the truth?”
My heart kept tripping over itself. “I don’t trust anyone but you. However, he has no reason to lie.” I shook my head back and forth, trying to make sense of all of this, some of this, any of this. I had seen Drew’s life end. I knew I had.
“I don’t know what to say.” She relaxed her arms yet continued to hold me. Tears spilled everywhere, and by the time Andi pulled me back, her shirt was soaked. “What are you going to do?” she asked hesitantly.
I gave her the paper. “His address.”
She looked at the paper. “Are you going to go see him?”
I shrugged. At that moment, I didn’t know what I was going to do. All I knew for sure was, once again in my twenty-one years of existence, I was knocked away from any familiarity of knowing myself.
“I’m going with you.”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t know what to say.
The night was spent with me crying in Andi’s arms. The way she held me as I sobbed for the man I had loved all my life showed me to the core what kind of person Andi was. She didn’t waiver or lessen her grip on me at any given time. I felt comforted, soaking up every minute of it.
I felt Andi’s body relax as she fell asleep. Me? I did not. I couldn’t. Too many thoughts were crammed into my head. First, was it really true that he was alive? If he was, did he remember me, think of me? Why didn’t he come and find me? I would have found him had the roles been reversed. Through all of this, I cried and cried, letting all those thoughts overtake me.
I woke with a start, having passed out from the tears. I looked around the bed, seeing Andi still fast asleep, curled in a small ball. I had only slept maybe an hour. Every cell in my body was telling me I had to get to Drew. He was alive on this planet, and I had to get to him. I had to see him.
I slid out of bed, dressed, grabbed the note with the address, and flew out the door.
The only thought that kept on repeat through my head was,He’s alive. He’s alive. He’s alive. I couldn’t help smiling at that. The boy I loved was alive, and I was going to see him. Nothing else mattered, because today, I would see him. Today, I would get to experience a small bit of joy for once. I would get my small splash of hope.
The five-hour drive went by in a flash, consumed as I was with my nervous energy. When I got to the address, though, I had major second thoughts.
I shouldn’t have come. I shouldn’t have entertained the idea. The idea was better than the actual vision burned in my eyes, never to be scraped away.
I sat it my car, staring at the house my GPS had led me to. It was a one-level with some type of greenish worn siding around it. It wasn’t new yet wasn’t old, either. The home had flowers and bushes around the front and sides. It had aWelcomeflag hanging from a pole by the door. It was a home for a family, a home I once daydreamed of building with the very man who owns it. The house felt like that, like a home, a happy one.
I had been there for hours, just staring, sure the neighbors would see me and call the cops on me, but so far, so good. I couldn’t stop staring at the house. Could Drew really be inside there? No, this was all some sort of sick joke. It had to be.
That was when it happened.
A small, blue car came from down the street and turned into the driveway. I was parked far enough away that they could see my car, but not really make me out inside. I wasn’t sure I wanted to knock on the door. Hell, I didn’t think I could.
The car came to a stop, and a beautiful woman with long, straight, blonde hair got out. Her body was perfect, not a blemish anywhere. My stomached rolled, hoping the thoughts swirling in my head were wrong, so very, very wrong. This just couldn’t be.
She walked over to the back door and opened it. A little boy with dishwater-blond hair cut short, small shorts, and a shirt with a dump truck on the front got out of the car. The smile on his face radiated for miles.
The front door to the house swung open, and a man exited the door. He had dishwater brown hair, a lean but muscular build, and he was tall, so very tall. It wasn’t until his face lit up in the most perfect smile that it hit me like a ton of bricks coming down on my chest.
Drew. He was alive. He was here. Not dead.
The grip on my steering wheel became painfully tight as tears began to well up in my eyes.
Alive. Here.
Drew bent down as the little boy ran into his arms. My breath left my body as every synapse in my head forgot to fire. He was alive, and he had a little boy. Same hair and I would bet my life they had the same green eyes.
I had thought Drew had taken my heart with him when he died in front of me, but that was a lie. This right here was ripping my soul and what was left of my heart out of my body.
