Where the Streets Have No Name(46)
“I’m so sorry, Daniel.” She took a breath, hoping to calm her frayed nerves. “If I knew those people were going to–”
“I told you,” he interrupted, ire in his voice. “Told you I was bad luck.”
“You’re not–”
“I am and the sooner you get it through your thick head, the better off we’ll both be.”
What the hell happened? Why was he talking nonsense? “Stop it! You’re not bad luck, Daniel Byrne!”
“You’ve been grand, Amelia, but this is the end of our journey together. Your knee is fine now. You can drive yourself.”
Her lip quivered. “Don’t do this, please.” Her hands pressed to her chest, as if the action could keep her heart from tearing in a hundred jagged shards. “My heart hurts,” the words came out strangled and full of agony. “Please, don’t break my heart.”
He wouldn’t look at her. “We’re done here, Amelia. We had a little fun but now it’s over.”
“F…fun?” The word exploded in her chest. “Fun?” she repeated, as if saying the word again might make some sense.
“Aye, fun. Go on back to Canada. Go back where you belong.”
She shook, holding back waves of acid tears and anguish. “You don’t mean it,” she whispered.
“I do.”
One last try.
“Please don’t do this, Daniel.”
“Don’t make me call security. Don’t make this harder on yourself.”
“Is…is there someone else?”
“No, Amelia, I just don’t want you anymore!” he yelled, then broke into a coughing fit. “Go. Get out. I don’t want you here!”
Her entire body went stiff.
Ice-cold shock rippled down her spine.
He didn’t want her.
He couldn’t even look at her.
Everything between them, every look, every smile, every touch…it had all been a lie. A sick game he played. She didn’t want to believe he was capable of tearing out her heart and stomping on it, watching her suffer, like he got some sick thrill from it. But he wasn’t watching her. And standing here, silently imploring him to look at her and change his mind achieved nothing.
“You’re a bastard,” she whispered, tasting her own tears.
Amelia held her head high and turned on her heels, making a slow arc. Her mouth, though set in a firm, grim line, quivered violently. Her heart bled. And somehow her feet carried her to the exit without tripping. She stood in the open air under pouring rain, watching the sun go down, while she cried her eyes out.
What was the point of anything? Life had no meaning, no grand purpose.
Maybe not, but she had a task to fulfil. And damn it all, she’d finish it, then try to pick up the pieces of her life.
Amelia found her rental car – the police officer who brought her here drove it and parked it in the hospital lot, then gave her the keys – and got in. Poppa’s urn was in the back seat, hidden under a sweater. She’d been so selfish with this trip. It wasn’t meant for fun or pleasure. She wasn’t supposed to fall in love and lose her heart to a stranger.
He didn’t want her. Fine. His loss. She’d finish spreading Poppa’s ashes and get back to what mattered. Maybe she could even start a new project. A new game.
There was plenty of time to think about it while she picked up the pieces of her heart and tried to put them back together.
Five months later…
Daniel sat across from Doctor Ryan who held up a series of x-rays to the bright fluorescent lighting above, examining these latest pictures of his bones. He itched to get out. Today was the day that happened.
“Everything looks good, Daniel.” The doctor took his x-rays away from the light and replaced them in the envelope. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” he lied. “I’m fine.”
No, he wasn’t bloody well fine. Sure, the breaks in his bones healed, and the cuts were fading to scars, but a chasm spread open his chest, tearing his heart into irreparable shards. He pushed away the only good thing in his life. He’d trade it all in, the pardon, the national apology, the financial reparations, if he could have her back.
“I uh…” Doctor Ryan opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a small white square – a folded page. “I promised that I’d deliver this when the time came for you to be released. What you do with it is up to you, but I never break a promise.”
Nervous, Daniel swallowed and accepted the slip of paper. For a long moment, he stared at it, at his name written down in blocky lettering. Familiar. But from where? And who?
The doctor left him alone in the room to read what was written inside this note. Hands shaking, he opened the page.