He smiles. Finally. He gets up and sits on my bed.
“Why are you in Florida?” he asks. “And not in your precious Washington?” He says it in a funny way, and I laugh. My precious Washington.
“Two people I love very much are in Florida,” I tell him. “I came to…”
“To what?” Kit interrupts. “Stop my wedding?”
“That’s very presumptuous of you.” And then, “I thought about it.”
“Oh yeah?”
“But I’m reconsidering.” I don’t like the look on his face. Hopeful maybe? If he doesn’t want to marry Della, he needs to stop the wedding himself. My God, what’s changed in me to make me feel like this?
“Reconsidering me? Or what you feel for me?”
I shake my head. “How do you know I feel anything?”
“I feel it too.”
“Fine,” I say. “I’m reconsidering you. Because you’re a coward. And you’re marrying someone you don’t even like. And now I don’t know if I like you.”
He nods slowly, his eyebrows raised. He’s not smiling at me now.
“But you love me. You don’t have to like someone to love them.”
I frown. He’s right. But not liking someone is enough fuel to walk away from them. Love can only get you to the first fight.
“Ask me to leave her,” he says.
His words scare me. I don’t want to have to ask. This is all wrong. Coming here was wrong. I shake my head. “No, Kit. I won’t ask you that. If you want to leave, it needs to come from you. It’s not fair of you to ask me to drag you out of your relationship.”
“Helena, I came to you once; I followed you to Port Townsend. No one dragged me there.”
That part is sort of true. I lift my hand to my mouth and lick one of the wires. I want to chew on it, but I’m scared I’ll get in trouble. Greer was probably eating dinner right at this moment. Maybe salmon and some risotto…
“Helena! I see what you’re doing. Focus.”
“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod!” I rub my temples. “Where are the nurses? Shouldn’t they check on me?”
He touches my face. Five fingertips. It pulls me back.
I can’t stop the tears when I look at him.
“You’re convincing yourself that I haven’t done enough, because then you get to walk away from this and be the good guy.”
“No,” I say. But it’s limp.
“Helena, don’t lick those—” He pulls my hand away from my mouth and grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him.
“Tell me about your heart right now.”
I yank away from him. “No!” And this time it is forceful.
He leans in and rests his forehead against mine, closing his eyes.
“Helena … please.”
I’m weak. I am.
“I was supposed to be a coloring book artist,” I say softly. “And your wife. And we were supposed to go on that goddamn Blue Train! I never woke up from that goddamn dream, Kit. Do you hear me?” I’m sobbing like a pathetic little shit. He rubs his forehead back and forth on mine.
“So, why are you trying to wake up now?”
What can I say to that?
“I met someone,” I say. I feel him stiffen. He doesn’t look at me when he pulls away.
“Who?”
“Someone who’s not getting married to my ex-best friend tomorrow.”
He sits with his hands between his knees and looks at the wall.
“Who?”
“What does it matter, Kit?”
“It matters to me. You know it does.”
“He just made me see things more clearly. I don’t have to convince him, like I came here to do with you. I don’t want to have to convince someone to be with me.”
“You never had to convince me of anything. It was a matter of timing. Our timing was off.”
He nods slowly. “So, you don’t want to be with me? Is that what you’re saying?”
“That’s what I’m saying. I want him.”
I can’t even believe I get those words out. I was wrong to come. There’s Annie, and Della, and Della’s family. I wouldn’t just be hurting one person.
“Who’s the coward now, Helena?”
He stands up, and I cringe. I want my mom. Is that weird? I don’t even like her.
Kit walks out the door, and two seconds later June walks in, wide-eyed, mouth open.
“He—” she says, looking back over her shoulder. “Helena…?”
I shake my head. “It’s nothing. It was all nothing. He needs to go live his life. With his family. I told him to go. I was so wrong to do this. I feel like a fool.”
June puts her hand on my arm. “You feel like a fool?”
“Yes … June. God. I came all the way here…”
June is shaking her head. “Shit, Helena … shit.”
“What?”
She puts her head into her hands and sits on the edge of the bed.
“You slept for so long. The wedding was … should have been yesterday. He called it off. They never got married. He called it off because of you.”
I rip the needles from my hand and swing my legs over the side of the bed. This is when the nurse chooses to walk in. I don’t even make it a foot before she’s Eh, eh, eh-ing, and pushing me back onto the bed. What type of from-hell timing is this?