Page 90 of Head Under Water

I squeeze my mug so hard my knuckles go white. Heat rises to my cheeks when Will notices, sliding his hand across to smooth mine. He laces our fingers together. Cory scrapes his cheek with his hand, then examines his palm.

“So, that’s why I know Ruth’s death was…” Mom shakes her head, unable to say the rest. “Margie’s fall wasn’t connected, because Ruth wasn’t hurt by— She wasn’t murdered.”

Will drops his head forward, and Cory stares at his hands. None of us seem able to find words.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” I say.

She flinches at the sound of my voice, the shape of my words, like it was the last thing she ever expected to hear me say.

“I do understand why you were worried, Opal,” she says, her voice exhausted. “All of you. But I promise, I’m safe. No one is coming for me. I just…I’d really like to be alone. I’d really like to go to bed.”

She moves out of the room and down the hall. I hear the door to her bedroom shut.

After a few awkward seconds, Cory clears his throat. “Will, can you go check on Richie?”

Silence weighs on the room. Richie must’ve shut the water off minutes ago, but I’m only registering it now.

Will’s eyes move over his brother, then me, but eventually he nods. “I’ll be right back.”

Once he’s out of the room, Cory leans forward. I guess this is it. I was always going to have to face this situation, but it feels impossible right now. How can I turn him down without hurting him? How can I possibly explain where my head is?

“They’re going to start lowering Mom’s sedation tomorrow,” he says, his voice low. “Try to wake her up. We’re still waiting to hear what time.”

“Does Will know?”

He bobs his head with a nod. Then his mouth twists with a sad smile. “Can I say something?”

I swallow. “Of course.”

“I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, and I’m sure it would exhaust me to try to figure it out, but…” He pauses, lowering his eyes. “Will has never needed anyone like he seems to need you.”

I blink. My heart squeezes. Whatever I expected him to say, it wasn’t that. My hands twist in my lap.

“Sometimes I think…you’re the only thing that could get him through if we lose—” He drops his head forward, drumming his fingers along his mug. After a moment he rubs the back of his neck, his gaze landing on me then flicking away. “You challenge him like no one else, but you also make him better. Brighter, somehow. I know he’s hard on you, but he does care, Opal. Even if he’s never figured out how to show it.”

“Will? But…I don’t understand.” How can he say this when he just asked me out? “Why did you… The text…”

“Was only ever meant to push him in the right direction and force him to admit what he wants.” He waits, letting me process. “We’ve been pushing him his whole life, but you know how he is. We made bets about how long it’d take him to finally—” He cuts himself off. “Back when we were kids. Me and the moms. I lost every time. Your mom, too. Ruth usually won, she just sort of…got him. Got both of you, maybe.” His eyes dance with ghosts of memories and he scratches the skin on his cheek like he might brush them away. “It was the only thing we hadn’t tried. If he thought he was going to lose you… And his face, when I asked…I knew. I’d always known, but until that moment, I didn’t know how much.”

He gives me the softest smile. “You’re beautiful, Opal, and smart as hell. And I will be happy for you no matter who I watch you spend your life with. But, if I’m honest, I’ve always sort of hoped you might choose him.” He studies me closely. His eyes are so similar to Will’s, though a bit more green than blue. They narrow, then fall back to the table. “And I realize this is the worst possible time and that we have so much going on, but…maybe that’s reason enough.” Finally, he looks at me again. “Maybe that is the reason. Because I think he needs you.” He swallows. “And if you feel the same, I think you’re going to have to be the one to tell him. Or we’re all going to get old waiting.”

I study my hands as if this is the first time I’m seeing them, and I’m starting to feel like maybe I’ve been the only one blind to this all along.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

PRESENT DAY

The car ride back to Will’s apartment is quiet. Neither of us seems to know how to bring up the obvious.

How do we move forward from here?

I feel terrible for Ruth, terrible that I pushed Mom to talk about what she’s clearly been struggling to process on her own.

I guess, in a way, some small part of me needed to believe Ruth was murdered. That she’d never choose to leave us. That’s what stings.

Even though, in my rational mind, I know she was hurting.

I know her choice doesn’t speak to how much she loved us, but it will always be devastating to know that we should’ve had longer with her, and she chose to say goodbye.