He’s too shell-shocked.
Hell, we all are.
“I’m exhausted,” Janelle announces with a yawn. They’re wasted words because exhaustion is a given after the night we’ve had, but she hugs both me and Veronica before trudging down the hall to her bedroom. I told her she could skip school tomorrow if she wanted. Her grades are fantastic, and there’s no reason why she can’t sleep in.
Veronica moves to my couch. This isn’t the first time she’s been in my condo, but it’s the first time she’s moved around with comfort and ease. It didn’t come with time and practice, but rather a switch was flipped and we just became good together. For two people who were adamantly opposed to the idea of a happily ever after, we sure changed our tunes fast.
Of course, this catastrophe with the Titans has cast a pall over things, and I feel drained. I’m sure Veronica does too.
She flops down, kicks off her shoes, and plants her feet on my coffee table. I move her way and settle on the cushion beside her. As if we’d been together for years, I lift my arm slightly, and she leans into me. I curl it around her shoulders and pull her closer. Sitting like this is a balm.
“I feel so bad for Baden,” Veronica murmurs.
Same. I also feel helpless. “I don’t know what to do for him.”
She snuggles into me and sighs heavily. “You never know when your time is up, I guess. What do you think will happen to the Titans organization?”
“I honestly don’t know.” What do you do when your entire team is just… gone? By the time we were leaving the restaurant, the news was reporting that there did not appear to be any survivors.
I feel so sick in my stomach and my heart. Those players had won their game against Columbus, so you know the mood was jubilant when they boarded the plane. The flight was short, so I doubt anyone had settled in to nap. Players were most likely even making plans to go out for beers after. Well, the single players, at least. I’m sure the ones who are married or have kids were heading home to be with their loved ones.
I can’t even imagine the shock those family members are experiencing. I’m sure it’s the horror that I saw on Baden’s face, multiplied by a thousand.
If it were me, I’d probably be replaying over and over in my head our last moments together. Those final memories.
Were they good ones?
Were they rushed in their goodbyes, assuming they had all the time in the world? Thinking their loved ones would be back soon?
Was there ever any doubt that they were admired, respected, would be missed? That they were loved?
My body goes taut as I consider that and the woman snuggled against me.
As I consider my sister in her bed down the hall. Did I tell her I loved her before she went to bed? I don’t recall.
“I’ll be right back,” I say to Veronica as I gently push her off and rise from the couch.
“Okay,” she replies.
At Janelle’s door, I hesitate. I don’t see any light coming from under it—she could be sound asleep. I’d hate to wake her.
But then again, if I died in my sleep, would she know how I felt about her?
I rap my knuckles lightly on the door and hear her say, “Come in.”
I open the door and her bedside light flips on. Janelle leans up on an elbow. She’s not squinting and doesn’t seem groggy, so I assume she must’ve just gotten into bed.
“What’s up?” she asks.
Only about a million things to tell her but we don’t have all night, so I tell her the two most important.
“I wanted you to know, I’m grateful that you’re with me, not only because it removed you from a bad situation, but because you enrich and fulfill my life. You being here has made me happier than I could have possibly known.”
Janelle blushes, but she smiles. “Thanks. I feel the same.”
“I love you.” That was the second thing I needed to say before she went to bed, and I vow I won’t forget it again.
“I love you too,” she replies.
“Okay.” I hesitate, now feeling awkward. “Well, good night.”
“Good night,” she says, and the light flips off. I back out of her room and shut the door.
I’m not completely satisfied, though, with letting this long night end on that note. More needs to be done.
In the living room, I find Veronica perched on the edge of the couch, surfing her phone. Her head lifts as she hears me enter.
“Everything okay?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I reply, moving back to my place beside her. She places her phone on the coffee table and tries to snuggle back into my side, but I take her arm to hold her in place with a shake of my head. I need her looking at me. “I love you.”