Wicked Game || CURRENTLY EDITING

Chapter 16: Hard to Say I'm Sorry

"You're saying that that's us?" he questions, never breaking his stare from our connected hands. I frown and interlace our fingers, squeezing his hand.

"I think you know the answer to that. Nevertheless, that doesn't mean that we can't be happy with other people." I don't know who I'm trying to convince more, him or myself. God knows that we both need to believe it. "You're happy with your life, right? I mean, you have your dream career and you've been married for 20 years. You're successful. Are you and Nance happy?"

He continues to stare down at our hands, blinking a few times. I await his response anxiously, afraid of what he'll say. I hope he says that he's had and is still having a joyful life. It would break my heart if all he's known after my "death" is pain. All I've ever wanted for him is success and happiness, even if that meant experiencing it without me. At the same time, however, if he says that he was 100% happy with Nancy, I'd feel a bit hurt. Despite 32 years passing by, to me it feels like 1985 was yesterday. I'm not entirely sure what I want to hear. After what feels like hours, Jonathan finally meets my eyes.

"Yeah, we were, I-I mean we are," he claims. I can sense some hesitation behind his words. I give him a look and he understands what I'm thinking. "We are happy. We both have great jobs and work at the same place, we bought a nice house together, moved out of Indiana. We did everything by the book... and you know, like any couple, we've had our ups and downs but we've made it work." Everything he lists sounds very nice, but I catch onto his uncertainty again.

"How come you never had any kids? And don't give me that 'hectic schedules' excuse, I know it's bullshit," I warn before he could talk.

He sighs and retracts his hand to run it through his hair. He folds his hands together and rests them on the table, staring down at them. His silence makes me even more curious as I think of possible reasons. Then, it suddenly clicks.

"Is it my fault?" This makes him look at me. "It's because of me, isn't it? That's why you never wanted kids?"

"No, no, please don't say that. It's not your fault," he assures me. "It's mine."

A baffled expression forms on my face. "How?"

He hesitates to speak again, looking like he's trying to formulate a response. "I convinced Nancy that we would never have time for kids because of work. We used to fight about it because she wanted kids and I didn't. So, after a lot of arguing and explaining how time-consuming taking care of children is, she finally accepted it and we moved on... The thing is that I actually did want kids. You know this, we used to talk about it all the time... but I didn't want to have any with her. I knew it would feel wrong to have a baby with someone who wasn't you."

I gawk at him, feeling absolutely dumbfounded. So it is my fault; he never had children because of me. "If you guys had a kid, would you not have loved them?"

"Of course I would've. It's not that I wouldn't have loved my child, it's that I'd constantly be reminded every time I looked at them that they're not yours," he clarifies.

The silence between us is deafening as I struggle to process the information. I'm speechless, what am I supposed to say to that? It's comforting to know that his love for me runs so deep, but it's also heartbreaking that he never allowed himself to reach certain milestones because of that love. I feel awful for Nancy as well. I can't even imagine what it must be like to be with someone who is still in love with his dead girlfriend. Oh gosh, I feel like I've ruined their lives. I must have been quiet for a while because Jonathan suddenly speaks again.

"I'm sorry if this is all strange to you but you don't know how hard it's been for me," he cries. "Whenever something good would happen, I wished so badly that you'd be there. Especially when I was younger, after you died, sometimes I liked to pretend you were there. I guess it was some kind of coping mechanism." A tear rolls down his cheek and he immediately wipes it away. There's nothing I want more badly than to be able to take away all the pain he's accumulated over the years. All I can do is apologize but it's hard for me to say I'm sorry.