Page 82 of Love Again

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. What else can I do?” is what I want to say. I want to wrap my arms around her and hold her. I want to tell her over and over again how much I love her and appreciate everything she did for us, and how I’m so sorry I abused her trust.

I can’t make the words come out.

When she speaks, it’s clear she’s been crying. “You know when Chloe came back to us and I found out later that you had been writing her letters and that you had gotten Laurel and Travis and her together and sort of left me out of it—I understood that. I’m the one that made you leave, after all, and—”

“Claire, stop for a minute before you get it all wrong.”

“No, I think I’m getting it pretty right.” She uses a tissue to wipe her nose. “I mean, I get it. I made you leave. Chloe reached out to you because she felt guilty about leaving me in charge of everyone after Mom and Dad died. Of course, she’s not going to reach out to me.”

“Claire, please . . .”

“But this? Marrying somebody? Not telling us? Not letting us enjoy that moment? I mean, we were still a family. You were coming home for Christmas and holidays. I went out there twice to see you. It’s not like we weren’t talking.”

Then her face scrunches up, and she buries it in her knees.

Every single molecule in my body says turn around and walk away. You cannot fix this. You cannot explain this to her because you don’t even understand it yourself.

But I don’t leave. I grab my hair to keep it from going wild.

“Claire, I’m sorry. I don’t even . . . I can’t explain it. It was done and over so fast.”

She raises her face to me and says, “You know what the worst part is? I never even got to see you happy.”

“That’s not true. You see me happy. I am happy. I’m a happy person.” That competitive part of me starts to swell.

“I mean happy with a man and in a relationship that’s healthy. A relationship that’s feeding you and making you more you. Devon, I didn’t get a chance to see that. You denied me that moment. I’m your sister. I’m not some fair-weather friend you’re supposed to only deliver good news to. I’m here through it all. I’ve committed to all of it, the good and the bad. I’m sorry if I misunderstood the whole bungee jump thing, but I thought, now that you’re back here, we could be sisters. I am so sorry I made you leave.”

Suddenly all my fear about the conversation, about the truth, about being who I am, is gone. Something Claire just said has made it safe for me. It’s something I’ve always known, but maybe never truly appreciated.

She is my sister.

I can’t continue to stand next to her on this rock, so I squat, put one leg out and then the other, and I lean my head against her shoulder. She doesn’t unclasp her knees, and she stares out at the sea.

“You really didn’t have a choice, Claire. I forced you to tell me to go.”

“That’s ridiculous. I said it out of anger. I was upset that night because I was so freaking terrified that you were in a depression and trying to kill yourself because Mom and Dad were gone and I had failed you. Maybe I hadn’t paid enough attention to you, and it was all going to be my fault if you were hurt. Asking you to leave was the easy way out. It was unfair of me.”

I wait a moment or two before I make a point. “Claire, did I always do what you told me to do? Was I known for doing what you or anyone else said?”

She swallows and finally turns and looks at me. “Is this the Geo method of conversation? Just ask a bunch of questions?”

“Well?”

“No, you didn’t, but that’s not the point. I mean, I kind of made you leave.”

“I was packed and ready to go the next morning. Claire, listen. I needed to go. I wanted to go. I forced your hand.”

“Why would you need to go?”

“Because I was overwhelmed with this irrational fear. I was afraid I would have to choose between one of you to save. I couldn’t do it. I was obsessed with this idea that one of you would be drowning in a boat accident and another of you would be stuck in a car fire, and I wouldn’t be able to save one over the other. I mean, why do you think I went into rescue work? It’s because I think and dream about this stuff all the time.”

Claire stares at me “Are you serious?”

My “Yes” comes out as a whisper. I clear my throat. “And you’re not entirely wrong about the bungee jump off the bridge. There was a little part of me that thought, Get it over with. If it does happen, it’ll be okay because at least I would have died not having to choose whom to save.”

I feel Claire’s arm around me, holding me. “That’s crazy.”

“Tell me about it. I was fucked up, Claire. I jumped for the thrill, yes. But there was still that little piece of me there, I can’t deny it. I think that’s why I had to leave. I scared myself. This idea that our family could be hurt again like that—I couldn’t bear it.”