Page 435 of Summer Heat
God and fate are not kind or just. They take without reason. And the world is at a loss for Tyler being taken from us.
I thought I was doing the right thing by leaving Tyler. I didn’t know he’d come looking for me. If I could take it back, I would.
The water hits my face and I pretend like the tears aren’t there. It’s easier to cry in the shower.
I was fine until I saw Daniel again. It took me years to feel just okay. That’s the part I can’t get over. Maybe this is what a relapse is? One moment and I’ve lost all the strength I’ve gained over the years. All of the acceptance that I can’t change what happened and that it’ll be okay. It’s all gone in an instant.
I lean my back against the cold tile wall and sink to the floor. The smooth granite feels hard against my back as I sit there, letting the water crash down on me as I remember that night over and over. Just a few moments in particular. The moment Tyler saw me, then the moment he spoke my name and moved toward me.
The moment I screamed at the sight of him stepping into the road.
The car was right there. There was no time.
It didn’t matter how I threw myself forward, racing toward him even as the car struck him.
I swear I acted as fast as I could. But it wasn’t good enough.
My head rests on my knees as my shoulders shake.
Life wasn’t supposed to be so cruel. Not to him.
“Deep breaths,” I tell myself. “One at a time,” I say, brushing at my eyes even though the water is still splashing down.
Standing up makes me feel weak. The water’s colder, but the air is still hot.
Just breathe.
As I open up the shower door to inhale some cool air, I hear something. My heart stops and my body freezes. The water
’s still on but my eyes stare at the bathroom door.
The mirrors are fogged even though I left the door open slightly. A second passes and then another.
My body refuses to move even after I will myself to reach for the towel. My knuckles turn white and keep me where I am. I know I heard something. Something fell. Or something was pushed. Something beyond the door. Something. I don’t know what, but I heard something.
I force myself to take one step onto the bath mat, and then another onto the tile floor.
I keep moving. I take the towel in both hands and then wrap it around myself although I can’t take my eyes off the door.
Water drips down my back, but I don’t bother with drying my hair. I make myself open the door and it groans in protest as I do.
The second it’s open wide, I feel foolish.
It’s only a picture I’d put up with hanging tape strips. It’s fallen and the paint on the wall where it was hung, a Tiffany blue, is marred.
I should have used nails or screws to hang it.
Even as I pick up the picture and roll my eyes, my body is still tense; my heart still races. The frame is cracked and broken. When I place it onto the dresser, I catch a glimpse of the piece of paper Daniel gave me. It’s a ripped portion of something—maybe a bill, I’m not sure. But on it is his number. The number I texted so he would have mine and to ask when we could meet. The number that didn’t answer, even though the message was marked as read.
I leave the paper there with the broken frame and head back to the bathroom to finally turn off the water. But I stop just shy of entering.
Peeking at the door to my bedroom, a chill travels down my spine.
I don’t remember leaving it open.
Chapter 10
Daniel
