Bittersweet (28 page)

I looked down and froze. Now fear decided to show its ugly face. I took a few deep breaths. I could do this. The wind picked up and I grasped the rail. I just needed to turn around and crawl across the tracks and go back down. Why was that so hard?

I shifted my weight and both my hands slipped and I fell.

I flailed, trying to grasp onto something, anything.

The last thing I remembered was the knowledge that this would hurt like hell.

E
VERYTHING
hurt.

I cracked my eyelids open. Everything was a sick blue color and smelled like antiseptic. Yep, still alive, thank God. But I was in a hospital and my head hurt like hell.

Dallas sat in a chair across from my bed, reading a book. I thought that the physical pain would override the emotional pain, but no, I still wanted to vomit when I looked at him.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, sitting here.”

He dropped the book.

“Savannah.”

He came over to sit on the bed.

“No, you stay over there. I don’t want to talk to you. How long have I been out?”

He looked hurt.

“Only a few hours.”

“What’s broken?”

“Nothing, miraculously. But you’re pretty bruised up. You basically belly flopped onto the grass. But you hit your head on a board on the way down. At least that’s what they think. You’ve got a gash and you were unconscious when we found you. I thought you were dead.”

“Well, I’m not. You can go home now.”

“Can I at least explain?”

“That you were drunk and you thought she was me? I’ve already heard that.”

He pulled at his hair. “It was just a kiss. I was blindfolded. As soon as I realized it wasn’t you, I ripped the blindfold off. The whole thing couldn’t have lasted more than thirty seconds. I’m so sorry.”

Oh. Shit.

Oh. No.

I made out with his
brother
and he only barely kissed Becca.

I couldn’t help it, I started to cry. It hurt to cry.

He moved to go out the door.

“Wait, don’t leave. I thought you slept with her.”

“What? Where did you get that idea?”

“She told me. Then when I asked you if it was true, you said yes. You thought I was just asking about the kiss. I’m such an idiot.”

He sat on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, that you are. Am I forgiven?”

I nodded. But I doubted he’d forgive me. Before I said anything though, I had to talk to Paris. If there was a tiny chance that Dallas might forgive me, Paris was a whole another story. I didn’t want to ruin their relationship.

He held my hand. It was scratched up but didn’t hurt too bad.

“What were you doing up there, anyway? You didn’t jump on purpose, did you?”

“No, although I thought about it. I was just in so much pain. I wanted it to go away. I thought the fear of climbing the lift would drive it away. It didn’t. I slipped when I tried to climb back down.”

“Was this all because you thought I slept with Becca?”

“No. Yesterday was the shittiest day of my entire life. Well, second shittiest day, the first you know.”

“What happened?”

“My mother told me I was a selfish bitch and to not bother ever coming home again. I thought you’d totally cheated on me. Then I wanted to go home and I overheard you and Grant talking in his office.”

His eyes got big.

“You overheard us?”

“Yeah, and I know now that my dad hadn’t written all those emails. I felt so betrayed. Still do, actually.”

Dallas brought my hand to his lips.

“I wish you hadn’t found out that way. You need to let him explain. He’ll be back in the morning.”

A knocked sounded on the door and Paris poked his head in. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” Dallas replied.

I took a deep breath. I’d intentionally left out a very important detail. Dallas always put such a high value on honesty.

Paris sat on the other side of the bed. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine. Sore.”

“Yeah, that would happen when you fall off of a roller coaster. That was a little stupid.” He grinned.

“Ya think?” I laughed a little, but stopped myself because it hurt.

I needed to talk to Paris alone before he said anything.

“I’m craving chocolate. Do you think you can find any decent chocolate around here?”

Dallas smiled. “I can sure try. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He turned to Paris. “Keep an eye on my girl, make sure she doesn’t fall out of bed.”

Paris put his hand on my ankles. “I’ll hang on to her.”

He waited until the door clicked shut and let go of me.

“I’m so, so sorry. I have no idea what got into me. I’m such an idiot.”

“So am I.”

“I really liked you and I was so effing jealous of Dallas. Becca was bragging about how upset you were, and I just wanted to cheer you up. I didn’t mean for things to go that far. I kinda went on autopilot. What are we going to tell Dallas?”

We made a mistake, both of us knew it. Some things were better left unsaid. This was one secret that I’d take to the grave.

“We don’t.”

He finally met my eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“It was a mistake and I don’t think Dallas needs to know.”

He nodded.

“Okay. I can do that. But let’s make an agreement. If either one of us feels that at some point we need to tell him, we warn the other one first.”

“Deal.”

I felt a little guilty for keeping it a secret, but technically I’d just broken up with Dallas so it wasn’t really cheating. Plus, if we told him what we did, it could destroy his relationship with Paris. I didn’t want to be responsible for that.

A nurse came in. She asked me if was in pain. I nodded.

“Do you want something for the pain? It’ll make you sleepy.”

“Please.”

She put a needle into the IV and I felt sleepy immediately.

Paris patted my hand. “Thanks.” His blond head disappeared out of the room just before my eyes drifted shut.

When I woke again, the first thing I noticed was that there was someone sleeping on my shoulder.

I shifted. Dallas lifted his head and looked at me bleary-eyed.

“Is it okay that I slept with you?”

I smiled.

“Anytime.”

The door opened and Grant walked in.

Dallas slipped off the bed. “I should let you two talk.”

He left the room and Grant sat on a chair by the bed. I didn’t say anything. Didn’t know what to say. After about a minute of awkward silence Grant spoke.

“A few days after your Dad died I received a package from him. I think he dropped in the mail the day he died.”

I closed my eyes. I remembered that. He told me he had to mail something and I was all irritated because I was afraid we’d get to the park after it opened. We always got to the park early and waited for the gates to open.

“In there I found three things. Your Dad’s journals, a letter for you and a letter for me. I opened the letter addressed to me. He told me that he had a promise to keep to you and he hoped that I would help. He left instructions on how to get into his email and told me when to send each email. There were probably seventy-five emails in the drafts folder. I sent one every Sunday, just like your Dad told me too. But a few months ago I sent the last one.”

He paused and rubbed his face.

“I didn’t know what you’d think if you stopped getting them. So I started writing them myself. I didn’t want you to lose him again. I never meant to hurt you.”

I crossed my arms. “I never noticed a change. How did you manage that?”

“His journals. He told me a lot of stories about you. Some of the emails were lifted directly from them. It wasn’t that hard. But I did recognize that I couldn’t do that forever. So I brought you here this summer so that I could explain things to you. It took so long for you to open up to me and then when you finally started trusting me, I realized that telling you could ruin it all. It was stupid. I should’ve told you right away.”

I nodded and once again realized that I had acted rashly before understanding the full details.

“Can I still live here until I graduate?”

He smiled.

“Of course, longer if you want.”

“No more emails, okay. Just talk to me.”

“No more, except this one.”

He handed me an envelope.

“Your Dad told me to give this to you at the end. I don’t know what it says.”

I opened the letter and read it out loud.

Dear Savannah,

As I write this, you are asleep in the room next to me. We are going riding today for the last time. I need you to understand. Life has been hard for me. I don’t function the way most people do. Reality is really hard for me to find. I know that today will be my last and that brings me a peace that I’ve never felt before.

I want my last minutes to be my happiest, and I can’t think of a happier moment than riding coasters with my favorite person in the whole world. I love you more than anyone and I want my last second alive to be with you.

Ride on,

Dad

Grant was silent for a few seconds.

“Do you still feel guilty?”

I shook my head. “It was still selfish of him. He didn’t think about how it would affect me.”

“No, he didn’t.”

I closed my eyes and felt the guilt and the pain melt away. I was letting them go.

It was time for me to move on.

I was alone in my hospital room when a woman wearing a stiff button up shirt and pencil skirt came to visit me.

“You are Savannah Ray?”

“Yes.”

“You are eighteen, yes?”