"Jimmy!" The father snapped at his son.
So he's Julian's older brother. That would explain the hostility.
"We wanted you to come because we thought that the media was treating you unfairly," Julian's mother spoke softly beside him.
What? I shared an incredulous look with Will.
"Really?"
The father cleared his throat. "You weren't the driver. We don't blame you at all." His eyes flicked towards the Ramos family, who so far said nothing. From the looks on their faces, they didn't seem to agree.
He shook his head, looking miserable. "I told Dan to drive."
I saw them exchange glances. This was clearly not going how they expected.
Will was slowly breaking down. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the picture; he couldn't quiet the grief stirring in his body. "I'm sorry!" he burst out. He opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a strangled sob, then he broke down completely, his back heaving with sobs.
Julian's parents looked at me with extremely shocked expressions. Julian's mother, a woman with long blonde hair, reached out and held his hand, and Will looked at it as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Neither did I.
"You killed my daughter." The dark-haired woman who sat on the other couch looked disgusted. "And you expect us to feel sorry for you?"
"He didn't kill your daughter," I said suddenly. "Dan did."
I burned as the whole room turned around to stare at me.
"So what?" she snapped. "He said himself that he's just as responsible. You've no idea how much we've suffered. Your boyfriend and his stupid friend destroyed our lives, and all they got was a slap on the wrist. It's disgusting."
Will sobs subsided and he took a tissue box on the table and dabbed his eyes. "Every day, I hate myself for what I did. I didn't come here to absolve myself of responsibility. I just wanted to come here and apologize and-and ask you whether I can-if there's anything you want me to do."
Forgiveness, I urged him silently.
"Can you bring up my daughter and her husband from the dead?"
He swallowed. "No."
"Then there's nothing you can do." She turned around to her husband. "Tim, let's leave. I can't stand looking at this guy."
Will looked stricken as they stood up to leave. Mr. Metsky stood up. "Please don't leave. You said in the beginning that you only wanted to see if he felt any remorse."
"I can't take it," she said, gathering her coat from the stand.
Tim shook Mr. Metsky's hand and looked at Will, whose fist held the crumpled tissue. "You rich people think you can get away with anything. You're going to burn in hell."
The Ramos family swept out of the house, slamming the door in their wake. Mr. Metsky looked at Will's horrified face and I saw his eyes crease with pity.
"Listen, Will. You have to understand that they're very, very angry. We were angry, too for a long time, but we realized that the anger was destroying us."
The tall form of his body blurred as tears blinded my eyes. I reached for Will's hand and squeezed hard.
"Julian wouldn't want us to live the rest of our lives like that. We just wanted to see remorse, that's all. You know, Dan never made an attempt to visit us. Never called to apologize or anything."
Tears slid down my face as I looked at him. Never? I couldn't believe it.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I don't talk to him anymore."
Mrs. Metsky held her arm around his shoulders and whispered something in his ear, which made him break out into fresh tears. The rest of the visit passed in a whirlwind of tears from everyone, including me, and then they gathered outside to take pictures. I watched them, hoping beyond hope that this would help William heal.
"How was it?"
Mr. Pardini's face was anxious as we reentered the apartment, with the reporter's promise that the story would be published the next day. I looked at Will nervously as he shrugged and headed straight for his bedroom, ignoring his father's questions. He took the response from the Ramos family really hard. Even though the Metskys forgave him, in the car he twisted with guilt and agonized over the cruel things that had been said to him. It was almost like nothing good happened.
"It went okay," I said bracingly. "The Ramos family is still very angry. They made that very clear."
He gave a look that was nonplussed. "Well, of course they're angry."
"He didn't take it well," I said in a whisper. "He still needs therapy. I'll go talk to him."
I headed over to his bedroom and knocked softly before opening the door. Will sat on his bed, his beautiful blue shirt lying on the floor in a crumpled heap. His eyes flicked towards me, that same deadened look on his face. I could tell that it wasn't enough.
Will, when are you going to come back to me?
I sat next to him gingerly. "What are you thinking?"
He said nothing for several seconds. "I'm thinking that I want all of this to disappear."
I grabbed his arm and squeezed it until he looked at me. "What the hell does that mean?" In reality, I knew perfectly well what he meant. "Will, didn't you hear them? They forgave you. Even they pointed out that you did nothing wrong! The others are just angry because they have no one else to be angry with! Dan is out of the picture."
Will's haunted face stared at me through the mirror on his closet door. "All I can think about is Mr. Ramos telling me to burn in hell. Do you know what I dream about when I go to sleep? I see missing limbs and blood and I hear her mother screaming and I feel that little girl's cold hand in mine."
"Will, for the last time: you need therapy."
He nodded. "Yeah, maybe."
I sighed, and some of my frustration shook into my voice. I need to go home. I need to be away from all this. Will didn't realize how draining today had been for me. I don't think he cared. A sudden, clenching feeling around my heart made tears squeeze through my eyes. I thought I was willing to stay with him, even through all of his despair, but this was proving to be too much for me. I won't be with someone who wants to die.
"Natalie?"
His low voice lifted in surprise.
"I need to go home."
The bed bounced as he stood up. His hand slammed the door shut as I opened it. I was surprised that he followed me. His bare arm blocked my path, followed by the rest of this body as he leaned against the door and looked at me with a stern expression. I hated myself for the hope gathering in my chest.
"No, you're not going to leave like this."
"I'm not upset, I just-I'm tired."
"Natalie."
I hated the way he said my name. He reached out and took my face in his hands, stroking my cheeks with his thumbs. I should have slapped them away, but I missed him so damn much. My lip trembled.
"I've been a dick to you this past week. I'm really sorry. You've done so much for me."
His deep voice rolled over me with all of the words I wished he said days ago. "You tossed me out of your apartment and said you didn't care anymore." The memory of that horrible moment throbbed in my chest.
Will looked like he was in pain. "I didn't mean it."
"Yes, you did. I'm not going to sit here and listen to you talk about how you don't want to exist anymore." I ripped his hands from my face as tears streamed down my face.
Will looked stricken. "I'm willing to get help. Don't give up on me, Natalie. Please."
I shook my head, unable to prevent Will's arms from wrapping around me, holding me against his bare chest. My body went rigid, as if I could prevent it from feeling anything good. God, I miss him.
"Thank you for coming with me today. I don't think I would have been able to do it without you."
I wish I were more than that. My heart sank as he gently disengaged his arms from around me. "Yeah," I said without looking at him. "No problem."
Grabbing for the doorknob, I wrenched it open and left before he could say another word.
Chapter 12
I woke up at five and it took me hours to peel my body from the bed. One week passed since I visited the families with Will. Over the next few days, articles started appearing about the Metsky family forgiving Will, with pictures of them embracing. The storm was dying. Everything was slowly getting back to normal.
Except that I still felt like crap. My phone was off. Will called twice, but I let it go to voicemail along with my parents' attempts to reach me. Every time I thought of them, dread pounded my heart and I felt like I was going to pass out from panic. Thanksgiving was this Thursday and Jessica was nowhere to be seen. I was pretty sure that she was avoiding me, or maybe she was trying to give me space, but all it succeeded in doing was making me feel abandoned. I completed the mock-up of Will's website, but I still hadn't showed him.
Even my new job couldn't drag me out of this depression, and the new workplace was amazing. At every meeting there were banquets of free food, cocktail parties every Friday starting at three, but every day I passed Will's empty office and felt the void in my chest ache. I heard that he would come back next week and felt worried about it.