I chased after him for I don’t know how long. He never slowed, he never stopped. He just kept running as if all the evil in the world were chasing after him.
“Alex, stop running from me,” I screamed.
He stopped suddenly and spun on me.
“Stop following me,” he yelled back.
“No,” I shot back. “It’s never going to stop if you just keep running from everyone. Your friends, me, hell you’re even running from the damn bar where you’ve been trying to drown the pain. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I’m scared,” he screamed, sitting down with a thump on the pavement.
I moved toward him slowly and sat down next to him. Gently I reached out and took his hand in my own.
“What scares you, Alex?” I asked.
“Everything, all of it. Every single day. I’m scared of every single day I wake up that I’ll forget something about her. Her smile, her voice, her laughter. I’m scared of forgetting her but I’m scared to remember her too. I’m scared her memory will always hold me down, she’ll never let me go. And I’m scared I’ll stop loving her. I love her so much, Greer,” he cried, leaning against me.
I held him in the middle of the night on that empty sidewalk and I let him cry once again. He had two years of tears pent up inside of him. It was time for him to let them go.
I’m not sure how long he cried. All I know is by the time he stopped I was running my hand through his short brown hair.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked me quietly.
“Doing what?”
“Taking me in, chasing after me. Why do you care so much?” he questioned, looking up at me.
“Because it’s not right for one person to hurt so much. I don’t like to watch a persons soul dying from the pain,” I answered, letting go of him.
“There’s more though. I see it in your eyes,” he added.
I looked away from him and down the empty street. He was right. There was more to my urge to help Alex, but how had he known?
“I’ve been where you are. I’ve been drowning in the pain, dying in the hurt. I’ve been on that barstool in those dark bars where no one knows me or gives a damn,” I finally answered.
“Who was she?” he asked, this time his hand reaching out for mine.
“His name was Quin and he was killed in a car accident almost five years ago,” I explained.
“Who was he to you?”
“He was my fiancé. We were going to get married, have a couple of kids, and live happily ever after. But God had other plans.”
“So that’s your story,” Alex pointed out softly.
“That’s my story. I can’t stand to see other people suffer because I know how painful it is, but I also know you can get past it,” I said, looking back at him. “It hurts to remember Quin, but Alex he was my gift and I will never forget him nor will I ever let him take over my life again.”
The pain in my head was getting worse and for the first time since I had hit that wall in the Lonely Star I started to wonder if maybe Frankie was right. Maybe I should have gone home and laid down.
“Are you all right?” Alex asked, reaching out to touch my face.
“Just a headache. Guess I hit that wall harder than I thought,” I answered with a weak smile.
“Come on. I’m taking you home,” he said, standing and pulling me with him.
“Who’s home, Alex?” I asked, looking him in the eye.
“Mine,” he answered, quietly before scooping me up into his arms and carrying me further up the street before finally catching a cab.
A little bit later the cab stopped and after paying, Alex carried me inside a house. I couldn’t see much of it in the dark but I could tell it wasn’t some tiny little apartment like my own.
He carried me up a flight of stairs and into a bedroom where he gently laid me down.
“How do you feel?” he asked quietly.
“I’ll be all right,” I answered, trying to find some detail in the inky blackness of the room.
He stared at me for a few minutes in silence. I couldn’t see him but I felt his eyes on me and the hesitation in his body. I wondered what he was thinking, waiting for. Then it occurred to me.
His sleep so tortured when he lay alone, gave him peace when he held me in his arms. He didn’t want to leave me for the nightmares that awaited him.
“Empty house, empty bed, empty heart,” I whispered into the night. That was Alex, that was his problem. He felt empty.
“What did you say?” he asked.
“Just thinking out loud,” I answered.
I watched him sitting there, silent and alone in his pain. Reaching out, I took his hand in mine.
“Lay down, Alex,” I said, gently.
“No, you need your rest. My room is just down the hall,” he said, pulling away.
“I won’t get any rest if I have to go to you in an hour to soothe your nightmares. Please, Alex. Just lay down,” I said, touching his face.
He sat unmoving for a moment before slowly lying down next to me. His body lay ridged next to mine until I curled myself next to him. His arms went around me, pulling me closer then.
“Sweet dreams, Alex,” I whispered, the beating of his heart soon lulling me to sleep.
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