Between Before and After Read online

  He stared at her as if she was crazy for even asking. She watched, captivated, as an internal struggle raged within him. She was being selfish – she shouldn’t have asked that. She was about to apologise, tell him that it didn’t matter, when he finally answered.

  “You didn’t see it. You can’t know what he… what happened to him. In the movies, on TV, it’s clean, it’s… sanitised. It’s not real, Kate – that’s not what happens. At least, that’s not what happened to him. It didn’t… it wasn’t clean. It wasn’t tidy.” He took a deep breath, exhaling raggedly as he shook his head. His eyes held hers, as if he was trying to decide what to say and what to keep to himself. When he finally spoke again, she could barely hear him, and he was sitting right opposite her. “I knew he was gone. There was no way he could’ve survived that. No way.”

  The ache in her heart grew. She didn’t want to think about it, yet he had seen it – he had been there. A morbid sense of fascination overwhelmed her. For so long, she had imagined scenarios in her head, putting pieces together that didn’t fit, just trying to find the right combination. Trying to find the truth.

  “So he didn’t suffer?”

  He shook his head. “It was over in a heartbeat.”

  And there it was. Horror and relief, wrapped up tightly in a little ball that she would never be able to unravel. She tucked it away inside her heart to keep it safe, then turned her attention back to Finn.

  It felt as if she was being ripped apart all over again. Knowing what happened in Danny’s final moments didn’t bring the peace of mind she thought it would. Instead, her heart broke afresh because Finn had been the one to share those final moments with him. He was there at the end of his life – he saw it end, right in front of his eyes, and by Danny’s own hand.

  “It wasn’t just that, though,” he continued, oblivious. “I was scared. I didn’t want to go in there. I wanted to run, as far and as fast as I could. I know how that sounds – I’m a coward. I know that, I admit it. Because of me, Max had to… ”

  He shook his head, tears falling freely down his cheeks. When he spoke again, he sounded broken. Hollow. “If you never want to see me again, I get it. Just please don’t hate me.”

  She shook her head, her heart breaking for him. “I’d have been scared, too.”

  He wiped his hand quickly over his eyes, sniffing.

  “I don’t hate you. And I don’t want you to go.”

  He stared at her, barely breathing. She wanted to crawl into his arms and tell him that it was okay, that everything was going to be alright – that he wasn’t to blame for any of this. But not yet.

  “Then what do you want?”

  Her heart raced. What did she want? A thousand thoughts ricocheted through her head. “I want to be happy,” she said, speaking straight from her heart. “I want to get married. I want to have kids. I want a house with a beautiful garden. I want to have what I didn’t have with Danny – I want a future.”

  An errant tear slid down her cheek but she hastily brushed it away with the tips of her fingers. He slumped visibly, and she realised he didn’t make the connection. She struggled to make it clearer, even as the thoughts in her head whirled around in ever-decreasing circles.

  “I want you to have that, too,” he said.

  “Then don’t do what he did.”

  “What?” He sat up straight, clearly alarmed. “Kill myself?”

  “No, I mean shut me out – don’t shut me out like he did. You have to be honest with me, about everything, always. I want to be able to trust you and the only way I can do that is if you tell me everything. No secrets, not anymore.”

  He seemed to sag with relief, nodding immediately. He wiped his hand under his nose, sniffing back tears. She had never seen him look more vulnerable, or more determined.

  “You don’t hate me? Even though I fucked everything up?” He waved his hand in the general direction of God-knew-where. “Even though I made everything worse?”

  “You didn’t make anything worse,“ she said. “Don’t blame yourself – we’re over all that, all of us, Max included. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, remember? Shit happens. Our job is to deal with it but we can only do that when we know what we’re dealing with – no more secrets.”

  “No more secrets. I promise.”

  She shook her head, determined to be clear. She needed him to know exactly what she wanted from him if they even had a chance of making this work.

  “Don’t promise me,” she said. “Promises can be broken.”

  “Then what do you want me to do? Just tell me and I’ll do it.”

  She reached for him with both hands and he stood up and took them without hesitation, sinking to his knees on the floor in front of her.

  “Just show me.”

  He nodded again, slowly this time, and encouraged her gently into his arms. Her skin tingled with relief as she folded herself into his chest, closing her eyes. He wrapped his arms around her back and crept forward, pulling her to him. They fit so well together, his body and hers.

  Her head tried to tell her she had done the right thing by talking to him like this, by laying it all out on the table so he knew. Her heart was more direct, less reasonable.

  It sighed.

  Chapter Thirty

  Finn woke up slowly, his shoulder aching and something tickling his nostrils. He screwed up his face as he tried to move whatever it was away from his nose. Opening his eyes, he realised it was Kate’s hair. The memory came rushing back. They were curled up together on the sofa, the woollen blanket over them. Her head was on his arm, which accounted for the sore shoulder, and her body was tucked against his in a way that made him want to stay there forever.

  Still, his shoulder ached. Like it or not, he was going to have to move. Squinting at the early morning light that was pouring in through the living room windows, he glanced up. Max was sitting on the opposite sofa, watching them. He froze.

  “Morning,” Max said.

  What was that look all about? Was he about to get yelled at or not? Like a five year old, he suddenly had the urgent need to relieve himself. He extricated himself from Kate slowly, climbing off the sofa and hastily re-arranging the blanket over her, even though it felt like it was three hundred degrees in here suddenly.

  Max was still staring at him. He stood there awkwardly, glancing from Max to Kate. Max made no effort to relieve the discomfort of the situation.

  “I need a piss,” he found himself saying, apologetically.

  Why the hell am I apologising?

  “You don’t need my permission for that.”

  Finn made a break for it, striding to the bathroom, closing the door quickly behind him. Standing there, letting nature take its course, his heart raced. Did Max hate him or not? It was impossible to tell.

  He flushed the toilet and washed his hands, in no great hurry to go back in there just yet. He took a deep breath and told himself to get over it. He needed to talk to Max. Maybe now would be the best time, before everyone else woke up. When he opened the bathroom door, Max was waiting for him, leaning against the wall.

  They stood there, sizing each other up.

  Max nodded towards the front door. “Let’s go outside.”

  Like a somewhat reluctant puppy, Finn followed him, closing the front door behind them.

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell me before?” Max asked, whirling on him with such speed that Finn took a hasty step backwards, throwing his hands up in self-defence.

  “I’m sorry, I fucked up. I know that, but I honestly didn’t mean to – it just snowballed and got out of control, and I didn’t know how to fix it.”

  “You could’ve told me.” Max frowned. “How the hell do you think it makes me feel? Knowing that you saw him do it and I’ve been the one acting like a whiny bitch all this time, like some kind of fucking martyr. I feel like such a prick now!”

  “God no – that’s not –“

  “But it’s true! Jesus! I don’t know how you’ve done it al
l this time.” He roughed his hair up in frustration, making him look even younger and more confused. “You saw him do it – you actually saw him.”

  All Finn could do was nod helplessly as he pushed aside that haunting image, determined not to wallow, especially not in front of Max.

  Max huffed out a frustrated breath and leant up against the wall of the house. “You said he saw you?” he asked, fixing Finn with a heart-breaking stare that cut right through all the reasoning and the rationalisation, and took him right back to that day, to that moment, despite his best efforts. The power of speech deserted him. “What did he do?”

  Finn turned to lean back against the wall of the house, beside him. Over the years, the memory had faded. He wasn’t sure if it was his brain protecting him from reliving it over and over, or the fact that, when it happened, he had been in such a state of shock that it didn’t fully register. But over the past twenty-four hours, talking about it had brought it all flooding back. High-definition, crystal clarity. He shuddered at the realisation.

  “Honestly? It was over so fast. It was only a nano-second. I didn’t even have time to open my mouth to say anything. Then it was just fucking… over.”

  “Are you sure he even saw you?”

  Finn ran a hand down his face. “I don’t know. The more time that passes, the less sure I am about what happened that day.”

  “Do you ever have nightmares about it?”

  “Sometimes.”

  Max nodded, his gaze falling to the concrete beneath them. “You saw more than I did,” he said, looking up at him again. “I didn’t have to…”

  Finn swallowed down the lump in his throat, unable to continue. He remembered what Max had told them last night, and how he had looked when they went up to the hospital that day to pick him up. Blood and God knew what else covered his jeans and shirt. That was one memory that Finn found difficult to forget. That, and the look of utter desolation on Max’s face.

  “It’s not a competition,” he said.

  They stood out there for several minutes, listening to the birds waking up around them, the cicadas incessant chirping filling the silence.

  “Did you sleep okay last night?”

  Max shrugged. “Yeah. Having Kate there helped, but I see you stole her away from me at some point.”

  It was Finn’s turn to stare at his feet.

  “You guys looked pretty cosy. I’m guessing you talked things over. Is she okay?”

  Finn nodded. “I think so.”

  “Good.”

  They lapsed into silence once again.

  “It’s the seventeenth today,” Max said.

  A familiar emptiness settled into Finn’s chest, taking up residence there once more.

  Three years ago today.

  Max pushed away from the wall and walked around the corner of the house. Finn followed him. As soon as he saw the Monaro, his breath caught in his throat. Did he really do that? It felt like a dream.

  “Fuck’s sake,” he breathed.

  The car was a mess. He walked around it slowly, the grass still wet beneath his bare feet. The bodywork was dented in several places and two of the windows were smashed. He picked up a shattered headlight, dangling from the car by a single wire, and examined it miserably. He dropped it again and watched it bounce off the car, shaking his head.

  What was he thinking? The car didn’t deserve this. It wasn’t the car he was angry with, it was Danny. But Danny wasn’t here, so the car had copped it, by proxy.

  “It can be fixed,” Max said quietly, casting a sideways glance at Finn.

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s not that bad, really.” Max stepped forward and ran his hand over a dent in the car bonnet, as Finn shot him an incredulous look.

  “Seriously. It’s just a couple of dents, a few smashed windows, a couple of broken headlights…” Max snorted. “Okay, so it’s pretty bad – but it’s superficial.”

  Finn raised his eyebrows. Yes, it was superficial. It was also a symbol of how he had lost control in front of everyone, and his male ego didn’t take kindly to that.

  Mistaking his silence for disagreement, Max continued.

  “If Danny could resurrect it from a pile of old junk like he did, you can sure as hell fix this. It’s a bit of panel-beating and a couple of new windows. And a new headlight.”

  They both heard the front door opening and turned around. Kate was standing there, her clothes crumpled and her hair giving the illusion she had been pulled through a hedge, backwards. She had never looked more beautiful.

  “Morning,” One glance encompassed the two of them, and the Monaro.

  “Hi.”

  “Morning.”

  “Everything okay?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest nervously.

  Finn smiled, the most convincing smile he could muster under the circumstances. “It’s fine.”

  “Come inside,” she said, hunching her shoulders against the early morning chill. “Gav’s making breakfast.”

  “That’s my job,” Finn said, his smile relaxing into a more genuine one.

  “Then you better come and help him.” She held out her hand to him and he went to her, drawing her into his arms. She felt good. Soft, warm, willing. She had done more than forgive him. She had accepted him, faults and all. She knew everything and still, she wanted to be with him.

  As they made their way back into the house, he felt as if his feet didn’t even touch the ground.

  Lacey lay in bed, listening to the voices in the kitchen. She should get up, but she couldn’t make herself. Today was the seventeenth. As in previous years, she had felt it coming. It was like a black fog, and she could see it rolling in. With it came the chance to ask herself again: what if?

  What might the last three years have been like if Danny had been here with them? In that alternate universe, had he and Kate gotten married? Did they have a child of their own now? Did she and Gavin? Three years was a long time. Her womb ached and she burrowed down into the sheets even further.

  The door opened but she didn’t bother moving. Gavin closed it behind him and crawled onto the bed beside her.

  “Hey sleepyhead.” Long legs wrapped themselves around hers as he pulled her in closer.

  “Am I the last one up again?” She closed her eyes, savouring the warmth of his body next to hers. She couldn’t imagine loving him any more than she already did.

  “Yeah. How you feeling? Did you sleep okay?” He snuggled into her hair.

  “Took me awhile to drop off, but once I did, I slept like a log.”

  She opened her eyes and stared down at his hands, curled around hers on her chest. She picked up one of his hands, running her fingertips over his nails, short, square and practical. She loved his hands. She loved everything about him.

  “Kate and Finn seem to have sorted things out,” he murmured into her ear. “It’s sickeningly cute. You’ll love it.”

  “That’s good.” She smiled. “How’s Max?”

  “He’s okay - better than I expected, actually.”

  She caressed his hands, winding her fingers through them. “I’ve been thinking.”

  “Uh oh.”

  She elbowed him in the ribs. “I’m serious. Shut up for a minute and listen.”

  He coughed and snuggled up with her again, mumbling his acquiescence into her ear.

  “I think Max should come back home with us. I think he needs counselling – professional help. I was thinking I might talk to him about seeing Hayley again.”

  She didn’t have to wait long for his reply. He rolled her over and kissed her, taking her breath away momentarily. When he pulled away, he reached up to brush a lock of hair away from her face.

  “I think that’s a great idea.” His expression softened. “And to borrow Van Morrison’s words, have I told you lately that I love you?”

  “Not lately,” she smiled.

  “Well, I do.”

  He kissed her again, slowly, taking his time, showing her just how much.
When he pulled away, she smiled breathlessly.

  “Do you think he’ll come?” she asked.

  “You might have to use your powers of persuasion on him, but I’m sure you’ll manage. He seems a little less tightly-wound this morning.”

  He leaned in to kiss her again. She reached up to pull him closer, burying her hands in his hair, losing herself in the moment. Pulling away finally, slightly light-headed, she reached up to run her fingertip along his eyebrow.

  “There’s something else, too,” she whispered.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Max dried the last of the breakfast dishes, happy to keep busy. The need for alcohol wasn’t as desperate as it had been last night, but it was still there. If someone offered him a beer right now, he’d take it, without a second thought. But he also knew he’d feel guilty for doing it. He tried to shove the thought aside, concentrating on the positives. He performed a mental inventory. He felt better for having a pretty decent night’s sleep, so that was an improvement. Small steps.

  He folded and hung the tea towel over the oven door and glanced up to find Kate looking at him. The tilt of her head and the slight frown made him uncomfortable under the scrutiny. She was up to something.

  “What?”

  She indicated his head with a wave of her hand. “That woolly helmet on your head is driving me crazy. Can you please let me do something about it while you’re here?”

  “What’s wrong with it?” he frowned, running a hand through his hair.

  “It makes you look like you’re fifteen.”

  “And?”

  “You’re gonna end up a born-again virgin with an attitude like that.” Finn walked past them and into the living room.

  “Piss off.”

  “Come on – please? Just let me trim it a little bit? Nina still has her hairdressing scissors here, I checked.”

  “You checked?”

  “When I said it was driving me crazy, I wasn’t sugar-coating it.”

  She stood with her hands on her hips, her eyes flitting to his hair every few seconds. A glint of mild annoyance mixed with a glimmer of hope lit up her face.