Discovering Delilah (Harborside Nights, Book 2)(47)

The rest of the hour we talk about bargaining and letting go, moving past the guilt of wanting to live our lives to please the people we’ve lost. Or at least that’s what I hear, because it’s what I realize I’m doing with my parents.

After the meeting, Janessa and I walk toward the boardwalk. The glow of lights on the boardwalk is pretty in the distance, like halos from stars that are too close to earth. Janessa hasn’t said a word since we left the YMCA. Her eyes are trained on the ground and her hands hang loosely by her sides. I have never seen her this disengaged, and I know she must be thinking about her sister.

“That was an intense meeting,” I say quietly, letting her know I’m here if she wants to talk. There’s so much I want to say, but I’m feeling her out, seeing if she’s okay with talking after revealing so much.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry about your sister.”

She loops her arm into mine. “Do you mind if I do this? I’m not hitting on you, and I respect your relationship with Ash. I just need a little support.”

“No. It’s fine.” And it is. I’ve been right where she is. I have Ashley, Wyatt, Cassidy, Tristan, Jesse, and even Brandon, to support me. I wonder who Janessa has besides her brother. “Do you mind if I ask why your sister committed suicide?”

She shakes her head. “She was attending a really conservative college up north. She was also a lesbian, but she never came out, and one day her roommate found her in bed with a girl who happened to be the girlfriend of one of the football players.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. She couldn’t take the bullying. She left me a voicemail before she did it, but I was thirteen. I had no idea what it meant. Talk about carrying guilt.” Janessa looks away. Her voice gets thin. “She said, no matter what, live the life I’m meant to live. She said…” Her breath hitches and she stops walking.

“I’m sorry, Janessa.” I pull her into my arms, trying to comfort her and keep my own tears at bay.

“She said that she loved me and to always remember that. She said…” She draws in a fast breath. “She said I was someone special and that…” Another hitched breath. “That I should tell my parents she loved them.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Her name was Jacqueline. Jackie.”

My heart cracks open and tears spill down my cheeks.

She draws back and holds my shoulders. Remarkably, she’s smiling despite her tears. She reaches up and wipes my tears.

Wipes my tears. She lost her sister and she’s wiping my tears.

“It’s okay, really.” She sniffles and wipes her own tears. “Come on. Let’s go meet your girlfriend before she worries that we got lost.”

I’m floored that she can move past this so quickly, while I’m still scrambling to pick up the pieces of my heart for her loss.

Thinking about Ashley makes my stomach clench for an entirely different reason.

“Um…About Ash. She’s a little uncomfortable about all of this, but I really enjoy our friendship, and I—”

“Don’t worry,” she interrupts. “I get it. It would be weird if she wasn’t jealous, but I’ll explain to her about my sister. She’ll understand.”

“Your sister? What does your sister have to do with this?”

“She’s the reason I reached out to you. You were struggling so much, and it was obvious that you’re carrying a ton of guilt about your parents, and you were hiding your feelings for Ashley.”

“Wait. Did you think I was suicidal?” I stop walking again.

“No. Not at all. I just…I liked you from the moment we met a few weeks ago. As a friend, so don’t get weirded out. You remind me of my sister, and when I saw how conflicted you were, I wanted you to feel safe and…”

“Confident. I remember.” As her words sink in, I gather courage to ask what I’ve been trying not to think about. “Have you offered that for many others?”

She shakes her head. “No. Just you. When I said I wanted to help people in her situation, I didn’t mean by offering my body to them. I meant by talking, letting them know they’re not alone.”

“Oh…”

“I know you wonder why I offered myself to you, and it just felt right, Delilah. It’s not like I go around sleeping with people I hardly know. I’m not a one-night-stand kind of person. You were so…tortured. Floundering. I felt close to you and wanted to help.”

I assume that her feeling the desire to help me was very much like my acceptance of her offer. It felt right and doesn’t need to be dissected.