“Your phone’s ringing,” I breathed, never taking my eyes from his.

“I know.” Then he looked away and fished it out of his pocket. He pressed a button on the keypad, got to his feet and paced into another room.

I stayed where I was and leaned against the kitchen cabinets, wondering if it was the mysterious Sadie calling him again. He never spoke about her, and I didn’t want to bring her up when he was here with me. I was content to lock out whatever he got up to when he wasn’t here. I didn’t need or want to know how many girls he shagged as soon as he left my house. It was none of my business. And if he didn’t feel the need to tell me or mention her, then that was fine with me.

He came back a moment later. His cheery, relaxed demeanour had been replaced with a serious one; he clenched his jaw and stared at me. Trying to break the silence, I teased, “Do you have to run off again? Is the girlfriend jealous of all the time you spend here?”

His face fell, his eyelids pausing a little longer than normal as he blinked. He didn’t answer my question. Instead, he told me to sit back down. He led me to a chair next to the dining table and took my hands in his.

“That was my father on the phone. Your mom passed away in her sleep this morning. He thought she was just having a lie-in. But when he went to take her some breakfast, she wasn’t breathing.”

“No. You’re kidding, right?” I blurted.

He shook his head. I tried to pull away, to reclaim my hands, but he held on tight. My eyes welled up with tears.

“No,” I repeated. “This isn’t happening. She can’t be dead, Harvey. Mom’s fine.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice calm and soothing.

I got to my feet and tried once again to yank myself free. “Let me go!” I shouted. “I don’t believe it. First Eric. And now my mom? What did I do to deserve this? Tell me, Harvey! What did I do?” I roared at him, and the countless tears slipped free and streamed down my face. And yet he wouldn’t let go. It seemed the more I shouted, the more I screamed at him, the tighter the hold he kept. “Let me fucking go!”

“No,” he stated and reeled me in like a thrashing fish, drowning in a sea of oxygen. His strong arms wrapped around me, and I buried my face into his bare chest.

“You didn’t do anything, Sara,” he whispered, as I cried. “You don’t deserve this.”

His fingers brushed my hair away from my sodden face as my self-control all but snapped, and I wept in his arms.

“It breaks my heart to see you like this.” Pulling me with him, Harvey sat down and eased me onto his lap, cradling me. His chin rested on top of my head as I nestled it into the crook of his neck. God, I felt so safe and yet so lost in that moment. My emotions on were on overload, each one warring and conflicting with the others.

I closed my eyes and confessed, “I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I knew my mom had a heart problem, but I was thoughtless, making her worry all the time about me, not going to see her. It’s all my fault… Everything’s always my fault. Eric might even be alive if I hadn’t teased him that morning. I brought it all upon myself. I practically egged him on.”

The dishwasher stopped its monotonous humming, and the air around us fell silent.

“What? Sara, what do you mean you egged him on?”

I stiffened in his arms. “Fuck, I’m losing everyone,” I muttered, not wanting to hear his question.

“You haven’t lost me. I’m not going anywhere.”

I pushed back from his embrace, inclined my head, and with puffy eyes and a red nose I said, “Promise me.”

He nodded and took me back in his arms. “I promise.”

I closed my eyes and continued to weep. Droplets fell from my chin and dripped onto his naked chest, mingling with his sweat. I don’t know how long we stayed like that, with my face buried in his neck and my body shaking in distress, but after a while he picked me up and took me upstairs.

“Harvey, put me down, I’m heavy,” I said, though I didn’t make any move to let go of his neck.

“Shh, you weigh nothing,” he answered.

Harvey pushed through to my bedroom door and laid me down onto the bed. With his sympathetic and understanding gaze—not one hint of pity, I noted—he stroked his thumb against my cheek.

“You’re exhausted; get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up,” he said and made a move towards the wingback chair.

I nodded, bit my bottom lip and raised my eyes to his before he turned away, hoping he’d understand. “Harvey,” I whispered and held out my hand, wanting him to take it, yearning for him to hold me again, even just for a little while. Even if it was the most dangerous thing I could do.

He studied my extended hand, wavering slightly in front of him, deciding if he was going to take it.

“Come lie down beside me,” I pleaded and added, “please, I need you.”

Nodding his head, he pushed back the covers and slipped in alongside me. He reached for me, easing his arms underneath me, his front nestled against my back and bottom, his muscular biceps strong and entangled around me. He took me in his arms, holding me closer than ever before, only one layer of clothing between his naked body and my covered back. I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

11

Sara

The next morning the coldness of the room woke me. A chilly breeze wafted inside, and I shivered. I pulled at the covers, inclined my head to the side and studied the time. It was past noon. I reached up and planted both of my palms against my face, feeling a sense of loss as last night’s events came crashing down upon me. Where was Harvey?

A vague memory surfaced in my mind of his lips on the back of my neck and my shoulders, his fingers exploring and stroking the length of my arms, but as I re-examined the vision, it faded away at the edges, and a hazy fog obscured the view. It was just a dream, I told myself. And yet I dimly recalled me telling him to stop… to go. Fuck, why couldn’t I remember?

Somewhere, echoing from downstairs, I heard a loud beep, and my sister’s voice came hurtling out of the answering machine. I groaned as I listened to message.

“Sara, this is Anita. Why aren’t you answering your bloody phone? Anyway, you know why I’m calling, so get off your fat arse and do me the courtesy of phoning me back as soon as you get this. We need to figure out the funeral arrangements.”

My sister’s voice stopped abruptly, and I presumed that was the end of the message. I slumped back down into the covers and stared up at the ceiling.

Time disappeared like sand through open fingers, and I didn’t realise that I’d fallen asleep again. When I awoke for the second time that day, the room was dark, with only a stream of moonlight giving shape to the furniture.

Loud protestations came from my grumbling belly, but I ignored them and fell back down to my pillows, tears streaming down my cheeks as I thought of my mom. Nothing would make the grief I felt inside my chest fade away, not food, not water. Perhaps there was one thing, but he wasn’t here. He’d left, even though he said he’d be here.

I closed my eyes again, and by the time I resurfaced, my stomach ached from the lack of food. I didn’t know what day it was. I tried to make myself move, thought about swinging my legs off the bed and hauling my ass out to the bathroom and taking a shower. But I didn’t do anything. I merely lay there and stared into open space.

“Where the hell are you? Are you really going to miss your own mother’s funeral?”

Shit, shit, shit! I thought as the message ended. That was today? How could I have let the days slip by? And where the hell was Harvey? He should be here, demanding that I get out of bed.