“No.” He continued, “When I dropped Emory off, I gave him the same edge I’d been given when I was a pledge. I told him about a cliff not far from where we were, practically led him to it. I told him if he jumped, he could swim across the lake and be within a hundred yards of the house. A couple of the other guys were giving their pledges the same advice. We’d already decided to let the three of them in... The other two made it back. They had to search the lake for Emory’s body.”
A look of horror passed over her face. It was a vision he was never going to forget. Because it was a replica of the same look he saw in his mirror every single morning.
Chapter 22
Emma ached all over. Ached to take Jayden in her arms and ease his pain. Ached for him. With him. He hadn’t killed anyone. But he’d unknowingly sent a young man to his death.
No way that wouldn’t have changed him forever.
Processing in the way she knew, she asked, “Were there any charges pressed?”
In today’s world there might have been, but back then...
“No. No one forced him to jump off that cliff. And he didn’t tell anyone he wasn’t a strong swimmer. Two other guys, who’d both had more to drink than he had, made it back. Emory didn’t even have enough alcohol in his system to be considered legally drunk. And our folks could all afford to get us the best lawyers.” He said the last word with bitterness.
“Your parents got you a high-powered lawyer?”
“They tried. I fired him. I was an adult and within my rights to do so. I planned to use a public defender. Maybe I thought it would look better. I don’t know what I thought. As it turned out, we hadn’t needed lawyers. The fraternity was disbanded, though.”
“What about Emory’s family? His parents? Did they come after you?”
“Not that I was ever made aware. I’ve always figured they probably tried. They would have to have wanted to. I apparently had more control over their son than they did...all their years of teaching, of guiding...and I, in my obliviousness, undid it all. I knew how much value he put in what I said. I should have been more responsible to that.”
Maybe. But he’d been a kid, too. Not a parent.
“You’ve never talked to them?” she asked. “Even at the funeral?”
“I didn’t go. I didn’t want to cause them any more pain...”
“And since?”
“The same.”
“You deal with people who have things to be sorry for every day of your life, Jayden. What’s one of the first things they’re told to do if they want to get right with themselves and their world?”
“Make amends.” He glanced away and then back. “No way I can bring him back,” he said. “I can’t help this one. Except, by living in such a way that I don’t cause them further pain or bitterness. Like having a family of my own when they’ll never have the grandchildren Emory could have given them.”
What he said made logical sense. But it didn’t sit right with Emma’s heart. Her own choices didn’t sit all that great with her heart most of the time, either. Not in an emotional sense. Ms. Shadow tended to have more control in that area.
“It still seems like...you’re deciding for them how they feel. What they need. Maybe you should at least try to see them. Maybe they’d welcome a chance to yell at you, if nothing else. It might help them. And if they don’t want to see you, they’ll mostly likely just refuse the gesture.” He had to at least try. It seemed so clear to her.
He didn’t respond.
Other than his own self-loathing, Jayden showed little emotion at all. She understood. That kind of pain didn’t let itself out. Didn’t let you know even a moment’s relief.
“When my baby died, I wished they’d throw me in jail,” she said, though this wasn’t about her. She just had no coping skills to share with him on this one. Sometimes the pain was so deep, the best you could do was sit in it with someone.
He glanced over at her then and the look in his eyes...she didn’t really get it. They glistened. And weren’t completely dead.
“Instead we’re left to pay a silent price for the rest of our lives.” He nodded as he held her gaze.
She got it then. The thing between them. It was a whole lot more than a fling. Way beyond business. They were like souls, meeting in the only place they ever could.
Aloneness.
They could hang out. Talk. Have sex. She could maybe even raise a child. But ultimate union? Their personal prisons weren’t ever going to allow that.
She scooted over to him. Wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head in his chest. They might not have it all, but they had something.