Page 67 of Unloved

Now it’s his turn to be stunned into silence.

Really?

“Really,” I say back. “I thought you didn’t want me to come, and I made it about me, when I can see now, very clearly. It had very little to do with me at all.”

For Arlo and me, leaving hurt, but it was the best thing I ever did for his sobriety. But I will regret leaving you behind for the rest of my life.

Those tears return, but they’re happy tears, grateful at the very least for the ability to be able to talk about this freely and put our regrets to rest.

Rhys will be okay.

“How do you know?” I ask.

Because you won’t leave him. Every day you tell him he’s worth it and you’re happy he’s here.

Tell him you love him.

It’s the one thing I haven’t told him, and now I wonder if it would’ve made all the difference.

“I love you, Frankie,” I say to my brother. “You are the only thing our parents did right by me.”

25

RHYS

The sound of the machines around me confirms that I am, in fact, alive. I should be relieved, and yet, the amount of shame that continues to fester on each of my organs makes me wonder if this really was the best outcome.

I feel so heavy, like every limb is filled with lead and I have to use twice the amount of effort to get them to cooperate. My brain’s nothing but sludge, but just not out of action enough to forget I owe some important people some big conversations.

And for that, I’m not ready.

My whole body aches at the thought of Lennox and Samuel seeing me like this, knowing how much I’ve failed them, knowing how much my weakness has cost me.

They don’t deserve any of this, and I hate myself that little bit more for allowing myself to become involved with them, when, with me, this was always a possibility.

“Mr. Denser.” My head turns, following the voice, and I’m met with a young nurse who looks extremely apologetic for having to bother me. “We’re just going to check all your vitals and then I’ll get out of your hair.”

After checking my temperature and my hydration levels, the nurse adjusts the pulse oximeter on my index finger and starts writing down whatever numbers the machine shows her.

“Are you feeling, okay?” she asks, interrupting my thoughts. “How about a drink of water?”

I nod, helplessly, because I really am unsure of what comes next.

“There are two men outside,” she says, her voice very pleasant. “They’re very eager to see you?—”

I shake my head and cut her off. “No visitors.”

It’s cruel to have Samuel and Lennox remain on the outside, but I’m being cruel to be kind. They do not need to see me this way; they deserve better, and better is something I can’t quite give.

* * *

I wake up for the umpteenth time, having no clue of the time of day or how much of it has passed. Noticing the sluggish feeling happens every time I open my eyes, I manage to loll my head to the side and open my eyes to slits.

I’m surprised to find Arlo sitting at the side of my bed, looking completely ruined. He takes in my appearance, and when I have nothing to say, he shakes his head and whispers, “What did you do?”

His voice is nothing but genuine concern; there’s no accusation and no disappointment. He doesn’t make me feel two feet tall or like a complete failure. He’s just a friend worried about a friend, and this thought alone has me in a chokehold. Arlo has known me for less than two months, and with one question, he cares more for me than my own parentseverhave.

My throat starts to close up, emotion and exhaustion getting the better of me, but I push through, these words needing to be said.

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