Never Alone

Chapter 33

Chapter Thirty-Three

As soon as I could, I pushed myself out of the treatment chair. Marco was reaching for me already. His eyes were red and wet from the tears he had shed and I only realized then that my own face was moist with tears, too. We met somewhere in the middle and he had his arms wrapped around me before I could even think about it. I held him, too, needing to comfort him and feel his heartbeat against mine as much as I needed him to hold me.

He'd watched his father die. No one should have to see that. "I'm sorry," I told him as I held on tightly. "I'm so sorry."

"Me, too," he answered. "I'm sorry no one stopped him that night."

It was the first time anyone had said that to me. I knew logically that it was because no one had known what had happened, not even me, but it still felt like a long-awaited salve for a wound that had been festering. It wasn't my fault. I rested my forehead on his shoulder and let myself feel safe in his arms.

When we finally separated, I saw that our friends were all on their feet. Each of them came to us and gave us a hug. When Aideen's arms wrapped around me she whispered, "That fucking bastard." It was such a change to have Levi be the villain of the story. For months I'd had horrible things whispered about me and even worse written on my locker or typed anonymously on my social media. Now the truth had been seen and in my head the doubts I had about that night were erased.

"Let's get the contacts out so we can sit down and talk about your experiences." Dr. Crimm handed Marco and I our cases and we easily removed the small lenses from our eyes. When we handed them back to her she began shutting down the secret area, turning off the large screen.

"How are you feeling?" Dr. Crimm asked me when we were all sitting in the circle again.

"Tired," I told her honestly.

"It's exhausting. The medication can also make you a little sleepy, but that will wear off," she informed me. "Marco, did your vision give you any answers?"

Marco readjusted his position in his chair. He crossed his arms over his chest and bit his bottom lip. I could imagine the piercing there now, even though there was no trace of it anymore. "I spent my whole life thinking I wasn't good enough for my dad. I tried everything. I played every sport, thinking there had to be one that would make him proud. Maybe if I could be the best at it, he'd notice. He was so hard on me. I remember telling my mom when I was thirteen that he just didn't like me."

"It was hard to watch," I couldn't help but say.

"It was hard to live," he answered. "I had no idea he remembered those moments in the end. I thought his last minutes would have been filled with him worrying I'd fuck something up. I was sure he was lying there dying, thinking his family was in the hands of this inept teenager that was never good enough at anything and would surely fuck this up, too." Marco lost his composure. The tough guy we'd come to know crumbled like a broken little boy. I pressed my hand to his back for support.

A few others in the group reached for tissues. Maybe in the beginning we'd cried because something hit close to our own wounds, but now we were crying for each other. Marco was hurting and that made us hurt. Our worlds didn't have the luxury of being contained anymore, we were all bleeding into each other. It was exactly what we hadn't wanted, because that was dangerous. If you saw outside your own problems and feelings, you could see that there might be more than what you were experiencing. That opened the door to the possibility that others suffered and recovered and you could, too.

"A few months after my dad died, that Marine with the baby came to see me." Marco could hardly get the words out. "I didn't know," he said with regret. "He knocked on our door and I thought he was crazy. He was a grown man holding a baby and when he saw me he just started crying. He couldn't stop. I remember my dad telling me that not all Marines come back the way they left and I just thought this guy was one of them. He told me my dad loved me and started rambling on about that day, but I couldn't focus on anything but that baby in his arms. Then he turned around and left." Marco sat up and my hand slid from his back. He reached for it and when he held my hand in his I didn't pull it away.