The beautiful, angry boy who left.
“I mean I know where he’s been, we talk,” Miriam clarified, “but…why wasn’t he home for the funeral?”
Hannah stiffened beside her. “I told him never to come home,” she said quietly.
Miriam reeled back.What?She’d clearly missed something crucial. When she’d left, Levi and Hannah were best friends, pieces of a whole who fought as much as they talked but who always circled back to each other. She knew, from her calls with Levi, that something had caused an estrangement, but she couldn’t imagine Hannah ever telling Levi to leave Carrigan’s and not come home. How had his parents felt?!
“We were engaged,” Hannah continued, picking at an invisible thread on her blouse, “more in love than I thought was humanly possible. When we broke up, it didn’t go well. It’s my fault he’s not here.”
What the hell?
Miriam’s entire world had just blown open. Her eternal compasses had not only fallen in love, but also had a catastrophic breakup, and no one had told her. They’d planned to get married, and no one had asked her to be in the wedding. She talked to Levi at least once a month. He told her about life on a ship, seeing the world.
He hadnottold her he was in love with her cousin.What the hell?
“How?” was all she could say.
“The first year you didn’t come for Christmas, it was just the two of us, and we ended up under the mistletoe.” Hannah shrugged, as if she were merely reciting facts, but a tear leaked down her cheek. “That was it.”
Miriam frantically did the math. She left ten years ago, and Levi four years ago. So they’d dated for six entire years, and no one ever mentioned it? How was that possible?
“We were soulmates, I thought,” Hannah continued. “And then he decided he needed to leave, and I couldn’t. I couldn’t let things fall apart, I couldn’t risk being gone if Cass got sicker. So, he left without me.” She chewed on her lip, not meeting Miriam’s eyes.
“I told him, if he left, he should never come back. I didn’t meannever. His parents live here. This is his home. But apparently he took me seriously, because it’s been four years. And he didn’t come home for Cass.” Hannah shook her head, her tears falling faster.
“I’m going to kill him,” Miriam muttered. “This isnotthe version he told me about why you weren’t speaking.”
Hannah brushed tears off her chin and smiled. “I’m sure the version he told you makes him look better.”
It hadn’t, particularly. Blue was nothing if not self-deprecating. But it had been remarkably short on details. They were, if she remembered correctly, “temporarily at odds about his life choices.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Miriam buried her face in her hands, suddenly overwhelmed by how much her family had fundamentally changed while she’d been pretending they were all in stasis without her.
“At first, none of us knew if you wanted to hear from us,” Hannah explained, “and then it was weird because it had been going on so long…and then he was gone, I guess. I assumed he’d told you.”
“I didn’t mean to break your trust so badly that you would keep this a secret from me,” Miriam said, the weight on her heart feeling like it might crush her. “I wish you could have trusted me to talk to me about it. Or Cass’s illness.”
“I wish you’d trusted me with whatever happened with your dad,” Hannah said, somewhere between resigned and bitter. She was squeezing her hands together, her knuckles turning white.
The words stung, and some of her hurt turned to anger. “That’s shitty, Nan. I was doing the best I could. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She dashed tears from her eyes. Had she, though, done the best she could? She and Hannah and Levi had been each other’s closest friends for so long, and she’d shut Hannah out a long time before Hannah returned the favor.
“I was doing the best I could, too, Miri, and I was drowning,” Hannah said, throwing up her hands. “I fucked up. My feelings were hurt, and I fucked up. I didn’t mean to keep you from Cass. She made me promise not to tell you how sick she was. I should have done it, anyway.”
She’d told herself for years that her secrets only affected her, but it had been a convenient lie.
“I want to tell you, about my dad. Someday,” Miriam said. “I just can’t, yet.” She needed to gather the courage to make that leap.
“Well, I can’t handle one more big emotional reveal today, so let’s table that and circle back to it. I love you, I’m glad you’re here, and I would like for you to help Noelle and I figure out how the fuck to dig ourselves out of this mess that Cass made.” Hannah smiled weakly. “Come on. We’re going to nap, and hydrate, and then we’ll come up with a plan.”
Miriam nodded and wondered if Hannah could come up with a plan that involved her never having to talk to Noelle again.
“Miri, is everything okay? Did your flight change?” Tara asked when she picked up the phone.
“Hey, so—” Miriam started.
“I need you to change at the airport—”
“Tara—” Miriam tried again, but Tara kept talking.