Come Back To Me (36 page)

around me and I know she’s about to come. I push deeper

and deeper, owning her, wanting to find my own escape,

and then she does come, loud and hard. I can feel my

own orgasm building, but suddenly, just before the re-

lease, I realize what the fuck I’m doing. I’m not even

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wearing a condom. Breathing unevenly, I pull out,

stumbling backwards.

Jesus Christ, what am I thinking? This is Riley’s sister.

It’s the day of his funeral and I’m fucking his sister. What

the hell would he say? What would her father say? I

haven’t even told her the truth yet. Disgusted with myself,

I turn around, dark spots bursting at the edges of my

vision, the room starting to tilt.

I hear Jessa say something but I shake my head. I can’t

look at her. I’m too ashamed and my vision is blurring

anyway.

‘Kit,’ she says again.

I turn. She’s standing, flushed, against the dresser, her

hair and dress awry, one hand clutched to her side, look-

ing so beautiful and so fragile that another wave of

self-loathing washes over me.

‘What?’ she asks. ‘What is it?’

I can’t find the words. All I can do is shake my head.

Jessa takes a step towards me, the look on her face so

devastated and confused that I hold up a hand to stop her

and close my eyes automatically so I don’t have to wit-

ness it, because then I’d have to confront the fact that I’m

the one that put it there.

‘You should leave,’ I manage to say.

I can feel her standing there in front of me, not moving,

so I risk opening my eyes. ‘Get out,’ I say again.

The smell of acrid smoke fills my nostrils, the roar of

flames starts to build. I press my hands to my ears to

block it out.

‘Just go!’ I yell, turning around.

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My chest is crushed as though I’m lying beneath

rubble. I can’t breathe.

I barely hear the door slam over the sound of screams

in my head.

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From:
Jessa Kingsley

To:
Kit Ryan [email protected]

Date:
September 7

Subject:
Please

Kit, please answer my emails.

From:
Jessa Kingsley

To:
Kit Ryan [email protected]

Date:
September 11

Subject: Why?

Your dad told me you’ve shipped out. You left without say-

ing goodbye. How could you do that?

I don’t know what happened between us. I don’t under-

stand anything that’s happened. I don’t understand why

Riley is dead. I don’t understand how one day I can wake

up and everything is OK in the world and the next day I

wake up and nothing is OK. Nothing will ever be OK again.

That’s how it feels. And I don’t know how I’m supposed to

get through this without you but you won’t even talk to me.

What’s going on?

Please email me back. I love you.

From:
Jessa Kingsley

To:
Kit Ryan [email protected]

Date:
September 13

Subject:
Come back to me.

Your dad called me and told me everything. Kit, how could

you ever think I’d blame you for what happened? I can’t

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imagine what you’re going through. I hate it that you

couldn’t talk to me. Please talk to me now.

It’s not your fault he died, Kit. It is NOT YOUR FAULT. You

have to stop blaming yourself. Riley wouldn’t want you to. I

don’t want you to. Please. I need you. I miss you. Please

come back to me. I love you.

Jx

From:
Jessa Kingsley

To:
Kit Ryan [email protected]

Date:
September 30

Subject: Stardust

Someone posted this on Instagram and it made me think of

you. Of us.

Everyone who terrifies you is sixty-five percent water.

And everyone you love is made of stardust, and I know

sometimes

you cannot even breathe deeply, and

the night sky is no home, and

you have cried yourself to sleep enough times

that you are down to your last two percent, but

nothing is infinite,

not even loss.

You are made of the sea and the stars, and one day

you are going to find yourself again.

F. Butler

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From:
Jessa Kingsley

To:
Kit Ryan [email protected]

Date: October 8

Subject:
hello?

Are you there?

I miss you.

From:
Jessa Kingsley

To:
Kit Ryan [email protected]

Date:
October 31

Subject: Hi

Why are you doing this?

From:
Jessa Kingsley

To:
Kit Ryan [email protected]

Date: December 5

Subject:
are you there?

I feel like I’m talking into the void. Are you even getting

these?

It’s been 100 days since Riley died. People keep telling

me that it will get better with time, but I don’t believe it. Did

I tell you that Didi keeps sending me care packages and

books about coping with grief? I can’t bring myself to read

them because reading them would be like accepting he’s

gone for good – do you know what I mean?

Every morning I wake up and check my emails and I still

keep expecting to see ones from Riley and from you in my

inbox. When will I stop hoping? Your dad says he hasn’t

heard from you in weeks. Are you OK? Even if you don’t

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want to email me, please email him. He’s so worried about

you. He says they offered you counselling and that they’ve

moved you to a desk job. Guam. I couldn’t believe they sent

you there until your dad told me you requested it.

I want to speak to you so badly. I miss you, Kit. You

remember those trips out to the desert? When you pointed

out the North Star to me? I look for it every night. I remem-

ber you telling me how the North Star is the star you use to

navigate and find your way home. I keep hoping that one

day you’ll use it and find your way back, because that’s how

it feels – like you’re lost and I’m waiting for you to find your

way back. I’ll keep waiting, Kit.

I love you,

Jessa x

From:
Jessa Kingsley

To:
Kit Ryan [email protected]

Date:
January 19

Subject:
hey

Dear Kit,

How are you? I’m sorry I haven’t emailed for a while. The

holidays were hard. I ended up in hospital for a few days.

The doctors said it was depression and gave me a pre-

scription for some meds. I didn’t fill the prescription. I keep

thinking of my mom. She walks around like a zombie all the

time. She doesn’t eat. She doesn’t talk. I think I’d rather feel

everything than be like that. Just, sometimes it gets too

much. I guess you know what I mean.

Anyway, I’m better now. I went with Jo to one of her pre-

natal scans. Kit, she’s having a boy! It was so amazing see-

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ing the little heart beating and seeing him kicking. I’ve

attached a picture for you. You might have to blur your eyes

a little. That’s the head on the right. He’s sucking his thumb.

Jo’s doing OK. She has good days and bad like me. My dad

is the biggest surprise. It’s like he’s a totally new person.

He’s no longer having any episodes. He even apologized to

me for his behaviour – for kicking me out. We go on these

walks together most mornings, sort of a ritual now, and I

know it’s his way of trying to rebuild bridges with me. I just

wish he’d had the chance with Riley.

He’s set up a trust in the baby’s name and arranged for

Riley’s pension to go to Jo and the baby – he pulled some

strings, so even though they never got married they’re going

to treat it as if they were. She gets all health care covered,

so I think that’s made everything suddenly much easier.

The other news is I’ve started classes at USD. I enrolled

last week. I figured I needed something to focus on and my

dad said I couldn’t just stay in bed all day every day. I’m

taking Psych 101, English lit and a few other things.

Please write. I love you. I miss you.

Jessa x

From:
Kit Ryan

To:
Jessa Kingsley [email protected]

Date:
January 19

Subject:
Re: Hey

Dear Jessa,

I’ve started this letter so many times and I’ve never been

able to finish it. So here goes again . . .

I’m sorry. I’m sorry that Riley is dead. I’m sorry for ignor-

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ing your emails and for not being there for you. I’m sorry I’ve

hurt you. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wish it

had been me that died and not Riley. If I could go back in

time and change everything I would.

I’m sorry I left without a word. There’s no excuse for my

behaviour but please know that it had nothing to do with

you. I was a mess. I haven’t been able to talk to anyone for

months. And I felt too guilty and didn’t know how to tell you

the truth about what happened. I couldn’t bear the thought

of you knowing.

I got all your emails but I didn’t read them until last week.

I couldn’t face it and I guess that makes me the biggest

coward you’ll ever meet. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never replied.

You needed me and I wasn’t there for you. I don’t even

know how to ask your forgiveness because I don’t deserve

it. I’m just glad you’re doing better.

I’m better too. I’ve started seeing a therapist – twice a

week – you’d like her. She reminds me of Didi.

I never thought I’d be the kind of guy who needed

therapy, but they made it a condition of me keeping my job.

She’s helped me a lot with getting the panic attacks under

control. Working in a room the size of a janitor’s closet helps

too – there aren’t too many surprises, only the occasional

rogue paperclip. I asked for the posting. I have to thank your

dad ironically. The demotion worked out. Kind of funny that

I totally get where your father was coming from all those

years. Looks like I’ll be spending the remainder of my marine

career behind a desk, but I’m OK with that.

I don’t know what else to say, Jessa. My therapist says I

should just write down whatever comes into my head.

So here goes. Here’s what’s in my head . . .

I miss you.

I love you. Even though I long ago gave up the right to

any sort of claim over you, I can’t stop loving you. I won’t

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ever stop. You’re in my blood. You’re the only thing that got

me through this, Jessa. Because even during the bad times,

the worst times, the times I’d wake up in a cold sweat, my

heart thumping, the times I’d think the only way out was by

killing myself and just having it all go away, I’d think of you

and it would pull me back out of whatever dark place I’d

fallen into.

You’re my light, Jessa. My north star. You asked me once

to come back to you and I told you I always would. I’m

working on it. It might take me a little while, and I know I

have no right to ask you to wait for me after everything I’ve

done, but I’m going to anyway because the truth is I don’t

know how to live without you. I’ve tried and I can’t do it.

So please, I’m asking you to wait for me. I’m going to

come back to you. I promise. And I’m going to make things

right. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll never stop trying for the

rest of my life to make things right between us.

I love you. Always.

Kit.

P.S. Thanks for the photos of the baby.

P.P.S. USD huh? What happened to USC and acting?

I sit back in my chair taking a long, deep breath, staring at

the words on the screen, my heart beating in time with

the cursor. My hands are shaking slightly. Down the corri-

dor I hear a door slam and I jump. Sweat snakes down

my back. Fuck. My eyes blur as I reread the email. What

the hell am I thinking?