Hustler

Chapter 16

The mood changed in an instant. There was no way it couldn't.

"It's not that I think his death would taint things between us, it's just -" Heath ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated; a grim set line to his mouth and his brow furrowed. "It doesn't feel right. Usually, I get wasted and hook up with anything with a pulse after I leave my parents' house. But tonight..."

Heath squeezed my hand, before turning his head to the side and pressing his lips softly into my hair. "I only wanted to speak to you," he finished.

I was humbled by the omission that he wanted to speak to me.

"I know I've said it before; if you ever want to talk about it, I'm here. So, I'm glad you came here tonight." Doubly glad he wasn't hooking up with a random girl. "Are you okay? How are you feeling? I'm sure this brings up strong emotions for you..."

"It does. I've always felt incredibly guilty. That I didn't see any of the signs that Mark wasn't okay until it was too late. I missed a call from him a day earlier - but it was during my exams, so I didn't call him back. It haunts me, Max."

I nodded solemnly. "There are always things we do that we regret, that later we reflect back upon and wish we could change."

"I wish I could change so much," Heath muttered, his voice hollowed. "I wish he were here."

I bit my lip. I selfishly wished he was here too so that Heath never had to go through the torment that was written plainly across his face.

"It's not your fault," I said instead.

"You don't even know what happened," Heath said, looking surprised.

"I know you," I smiled sadly at him. "You wouldn't hurt someone intentionally."

"Some would say I've hurt you intentionally," Heath pointed out.

I waved my hand dismissively, that was all in the past. The most important thing was that he was here now, and he was hurting. "Were you trying to hurt me intentionally?"

"No," Heath replied slowly. "I was trying to do the right thing."

"Exactly."

"The weird thing is. I've forgotten so much about him in the time he's been out of my life. I don't remember the sound of his laughter, or what his favourite movie was, or whether it was him that didn't like peanut butter as a kid or if it was me. His face -" Heath brushed a hand over his face rubbing at his eyes. "When I saw the picture of him today it physically jolted me. I'd begun to forget what he looked like."

"It's scary to lose those memories, isn't it?"

"Fucking oath, I feel guilty as it is. I feel guilty for even feeling a shred of happiness on the day where he took his life, let alone the guilt I feel when I forget about him."

"If you're worried about forgetting, maybe you could write it down?" I suggested. He was a journalist for a living.

Heath stared down at me, a moment passed without us speaking. "Maybe I will," Heath said finally.

"As for feeling guilty, he would have wanted you to be happy, right? Not sitting in torment and misery."

"Yeah but..." Heath trailed off, looking away.

"Today must bring back a lot of memories, I understand," I said. "Tell me more about Mark."

Heath looked down at our joined hands and squeezed my hand again. "I know you wanted to do stuff tonight."

My libido was long since forgotten.

"We don't have to do anything tonight, I'll still be here tomorrow," I replied.