Fading Out...

  Chapter 20

  Shane's POV

  “Twenty years.” I start to remind him, or more precisely his back, as he leans down to put down flowers on her grave. “Twenty years have passed since you met her and set her free. And every year, you bring her flowers on this day. Nick, I don’t know what else to believe other than the fact that you are still hung up on her. Accept it bud, she’s gone.”

  “I know she’s gone.” His voice is normal and I immediately think back to how he would almost break down crying for hours during the starting years of visit. Well, that’s progress. “I have known she was gone for the last twenty years, as you just pointed out. It’s just that you never forget someone like her. And you must always pay respects to the deceased.”

  He stands up from sitting at her grave and I see that the years have changed the teenage Nick into the bestselling writer Nick Demming Peters. That lanky frame is now gone, his body a lot more leaner and his hair was much smaller than the hippie look he had sported till a few days before going into that mansion. I recall what he wrote in his first novel, which was actually autobiographical in nature, about that visit. “Everyone must mature, finally crossing that invisible boundary from being the child to becoming an adult. The night at the mansion was that moment.”

  “But I did move on, didn’t I?” Nick speaks again after some time and as he turns, I see that his shades reflect the sunlight and hide the eyes. They don’t hide the tears that have escaped, though. We are dressed in suits, returning from the recent book signing in a nearby town of Witchbury Falls. He continues then, though I am not sure who is he speaking to at the moment. Is it me, himself or Daisy? “Well, becoming a writer was something she wanted me to be upon seeing my talent. And to honor my promise, I always kept myself open to a search for a companion. But now that I have her and a few children of my own, won’t you agree that I’ve moved on?”

  My eyes automatically drift to Daisy’s grave and, though I never knew her really except for that frightening introduction, I feel a kinship with her as I understand what Nick is saying and what he isn’t. I know he would just argue to comfort himself in his lie so I only voice my true opinion inside my head. Yeah, we both the truth of that, even if you choose to ignore it. Or else, we won’t be here at all.

  I let out a non-committal noise as my verbal response and he is satisfied enough with that as his answer. “Liar. You lie to yourself. And you’re too coward to admit it even to yourself.” I whisper under my breath. And I’m a coward for not making you face the truth. I curse myself. But how can I if this is how it has to be for you to be happy?

  My mind instantly flashes back to the days that came after that night. My date with Millie had gone well while he seemed to be falling deeper and deeper into himself. The only way to not see that Nick was depressed was if you were robbed of all your senses. And even then, it would have been possible to sense it.

  “The loss would have been bearable, Shawn.” He told me when I had finally confronted him in his room. Neither of us needed to mention what was being talked about. She was gone but was still everywhere. “But the knowledge that I won’t see her again…” He gulped when his voice cracked at the word ‘again’. “… I can’t bear that knowledge.”

  “Then you will break your promise to her?” I had countered on the knowledge of the promise he had made before she left and Nick’s head snapped up so quickly that I momentarily feared whiplash.

  “No! Of course not. How could you even – I would never break a promise to her!” He shouted at me and though the progress was barely there, I wanted to smile at seeing something emerge from the vacant shell he had almost become. “I won’t fail her.” He repeated, though I am still not sure if it was to himself or to me.

  That year was a difficult one for him. Everything was the same to me, but it was all touched by her loss to him. I still remember sleeping with my shoes near the bed in case I had to hurry. More than once, Nick ventured to the ruins of the McCain mansion at night and roamed there while mumbling about the things he had underwent there with her. No one else ever found out because I made sure he was never caught. His sister helped me make sure I always knew when he was gone before their parents could find out.

  “You coming?” Nick calls out and I realize that I had been staring at the old graves in front of me for a long time now and Nick stands by me, waiting for my response. Controlling the urge to jump, I simply nod and we walk back to his car in silence. The joy of being a success is gone from his face and the mood in the car is subdued. It reminds me of how Nick still occasionally gets when he is lost deep in thoughts of her.

  To say that he sought her in the face of every woman he met would be a huge understatement. Even now, the woman who had claim to the title of being his wife was not the owner of his heart. I sympathized with her, knowing she was literally up against a ghost who, just by being dead, will forever stay perfect in his eyes. There was no way she could win.

  Only I and he knew the story of that night, though. There was no hope to be believed so we never tried but more important was that we never let it be hinted that we had dared to try to steal something of the ghost. We never could imagine a good enough ending for that scenario. And so, it all stayed a secret between the two of us, even after the first book came out.

  “We’re here.” He announces and I am immediately back from the memories. The sun illuminates a red glow in the sky and I can still remember how the sky had been when Nick was inside. We walk out and head for the house.

  No, calling it house seems unfair. It was a mansion, to be precise.

  Daisy’s mansion that was built from the ground up as soon as Nick could start investing money for its reconstruction.

  And Nick Demming Peters walked into the house, screaming out an “I’m home!” Only I see the way his shoulders sag a little when the reply comes from within. The voice he seeks will never answer him.

  And that is how I leave him while trying to ignore the guilt of letting them both down. Both of us in a prison we built.