Better Than Nothing: Part 3 of On the Edge Series

Chapter 8

Billy was there, feet from me. I could feel his proximity vibrating deep into my core. His pale skin hungrily absorbed the moonlight like a sponge collected spilled milk. His shadowed eyes curtained by thick lashes had softened from his hatred, but his tone still refused forgiveness.

"Billy," my voice meekly cracked.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," a small laugh slipped from his lips.

"You look like you should be holding a cigarette."

"Don't tempt me." His stature cracked with the admission as his shoulders slumped.

"How can I help?" It spilled from me. It was all I wanted. I wanted him to be okay.

"Can you rewind ten years?" Exhaustion filled his words.

"No," my eyes dripped as I felt his anger return.

"Well, I guess I have to work with the hand I have."

He moved towards me, but only to collapse to the steps. I followed him down, leaving a few inches between us.

"I've wanted to call you," he began. "I've tried to get over the anger, but...."

I stayed silent. This moment wasn't for me. It wasn't the time for me to say everything whirling in my head or even try to heal the situation. This time was for Billy. He deserved that much from me.

"I can't, Lily. I can't get over what you gave up." His head dipped to meet his hands as he tugged at his hair. "Maybe if it had just been me. All the times you walked away from me; I forgave you. But," he shook his head without lifting his face. "You left my kids, Lily. Viv, Jackson, they needed you. Everything was changing for them, and you were helping. Just being there, you were helping. You proved that even though their mom and I were busting up, life would be happy and whole."

I gnawed at my cheek, trying to prevent the tears. Tears wouldn't be fair to Billy. I deserved this.

"But you left anyway. Honestly, I don't even know why. You were working. You had that fucking career you wanted. You just left with no reason." He looked up at me. The anger had drained, and his face looked tired. "Why, Lily? I just want to understand why? Did you really hate me that much?"

"I didn't hate you. I could never hate you. I love you."

A sinister laugh popped from his lips. "You have a funny way of showing love."

"I left because despite all the times you told me I was enough, I didn't believe you. I may have been enough for you, but it wasn't enough for me to believe it. I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure out who I am."

Billy lifted his hand to the back of his head as he pondered my words. "What about now?"

"I've proven to myself that I can do this whole life thing alone. I don't need anyone."

A laugh slipped from Billy's lips, causing a jerk to roll up his back. "That's what you figured out? You figured out that you don't need anyone? Darling, you haven't figured out anything. Everyone needs someone."

"I figured that out too late," I sighed.

"Are you happy?"

"No," I answered without hesitation.

He slightly nodded his head as his eyes wandered down the shoveled walk. "Well, you're not really alone. Apparently, my best friend and mother have a much easier time forgiving you."

"I'm sorry, Billy. I can..."

He slightly waved his hand, dismissing my words before I even spoke them. "They're adults. They get to make their own decisions. Don't fill Tim up with sugar and send him to the studio."

"Me, you're more likely to fill him up with malts and send him my way. You know all that dairy messes with his stomach. No one needs a gassy Timmy in their life."

A small chuckle escaped Billy, and for the briefest of moments, I glimpsed his dimples. "You're never alone, Lil. You always have your dad," he noted as he pulled himself up. "I'll see you around, Lily Turncott."

I watched him pace away from me. His unknowing comment about my dad stabbed the loneliness in me and twisted it around viciously. Each step he took away from me reminded me he had not forgiven me, couldn't forgive me. He got to decide if I came back from the dead, and he had made his choice. But it gnawed at me. The conversation was wrong. It wasn't about me. This conversation was about Billy.

"Billy," I called out. My voice was powerful with resolve.

Billy turned without even masking the look of surprise on his face.

"Tonight isn't about me, Billy. It doesn't matter if I'm alone; if I'm lonely."

As I spoke, Billy fully turned to face me.

"Are you okay, Billy?" I asked again.

"No, I'm not okay," he confirmed, but he filled his voice with skepticism.

"Why? Why aren't you okay?" I pressed.

"You aren't the only one that has a hard time believing they deserve what they have; what people will give you with ease. Maybe that's why I got so hooked on you; nothing was easy."

I stood and moved towards him.

"I have everything anyone could ever want, and I'm still..."

"What?" I whispered as I neared.

He looked over my face, peering down from his tall stature.

"I'm still struggling. I'm still trying to get something, but I don't know what it was. First, it was music, then the house, the kids, the studio, and now... I don't even know what I'm struggling for; I just can't seem to be content."

"It's a hard habit to kick," I agreed. "But contentment and happiness are not the same. You can be happy and still reach for the next thing," I offered.

"Mmhmm," he murmured with his Midwest accent curling the mumble.

"Selfishly, I want you to be happy. I've always wanted that. If you were happy, then I was right," I admitted. "But this isn't about me," I corrected myself. "This is about you. Can I help, Billy? Is there anything I can do?"

Billy continued to gaze at me for a long, silent moment before he sucked in a deep breath. "No, there isn't anything for you to do anymore. It's over. You were wrong, and we're over."