I feel like I’m on auto-pilot. Floating, but not in a good way. I walk back into the bar on wooden legs. I barely feel in control of my body, like a marionette on a string, and the universe is having a good laugh as it walks me around. Hank and Nadia must be able to tell because she’s taken my place at our table, and they’re both looking at me with confusion written all over their faces.
I’m accustomed to tragedy, but I’m at a loss for what to say right now. I can’t think of a way to cover this up. I don’t know what to do.
“Everything okay, Mira?” Hank asks, concern lacing his voice.
Nadia looks at me sadly, her brows knitting together in concern.
“No. Not really.” I wipe at my eyes, realizing that I walked in here with tears pooling on my cheeks.
“Here.” Hank stands and pulls another chair up to our table, lining it up behind me and giving my back a quick rub as he does. “Take a seat. You look like you’re going to topple over.”
I sit rigidly, twisting my hands in my lap. Usually when I deliver bad news, I take solace in knowing I’ve done everything in my power to avoid this outcome.
Tonight, I can’t say the same.
I could have handled this differently. But I’m not sure that would have been preferable. I don’t know. I don’t know anything other than I’m drowning in guilt. My chest aches with such raw pain, it radiates up my throat and steals my words.
I’ve been so unfair to Stefan. He’s done everything he can to protect me, and I repaid him by withholding something he’s been killing himself trying to figure out. I thought I was protecting him too.
A wave of shame hits me, soaking me, chilling me to the bone.
“I’ve made a huge mistake.”
“Well”—Hank shifts in his seat, eyes darting to Nadia—“let’s see what we can do about solving that.” He pushes my beer toward me, but I can’t handle the thought of consuming anything right now.
“I… Hank, I can’t. I still don’t feel like it’s my place to say anything. I had hoped to talk with you tonight. I had some certainty, but this… God. This really blew up in my face.”
“Talk to me about what?”
I glance over at Nadia, white teeth nibbling at heart-shaped pink lips. I have no clue if she’s aware of this whole thing. How did I make such a big mess? How did I blow this so badly?
I opt for a very general line of questioning, just in case.
“Did you know someone by the name of Nora when you worked here?”
Hank clears his throat and shuffles his broad shoulders around in his chair. “I did.”
I nod, looking down at my hands again, rolling my lips together. I feel like I could hurl. My voice drops an octave and comes out as almost a whisper. “How well did you know her?”
A shadow passes over Hank’s face, a memory maybe. I watch his proud chest rise and fall under the plaid shirt he’s wearing. His head tilts, and a sad smile touches his lips. “Well enough that I still think about her often.”
My heart cracks and tears spring up in my eyes again. Fuck my life. This whole thing is just painful.
I blink rapidly and grab Hank’s knee right as Nadia pipes up, confusion lacing her tone. “Are you talking about my mom?”
My hand pulses over Hank’s jeans as his eyes snap down to mine. Shock weaves its way between the different shades of green as the realization sinks in.
“You need to talk to Stefan. That’s all I can tell you.” I stand and wrap my arms around the shocked man’s neck, squeezing him in a bone-crushing hug. I whisper so only Hank can hear me, “He really needs you.”
The stinging in my nose overwhelms me, and without saying anything further, I turn to pay. “Come on, Nadia. I’ll drive you home.”
She says nothing but pushes to stand, clearly trying to piece things together. And when I get to the front door, I check over my shoulder to see Hank spinning his pint of beer, staring at the golden liquid. But he’s not really here.
He’s lost in a memory.
