Page 98 of Bean
I covered my face with one hand and breathed into my palm. “Uh. No. I’m assuming Bean told you.”
“Bean told me as much as he knew, which was very little. He either knows jack shit or forgot to write it down. But he’s real fucked up about it.”
I tried not to laugh, but I couldn’t help it. “Yeah? That makes two of us.” I took a beat. “Look, if you’re calling to yell at me, I really don’t need that right now. I could pencil you in next week, but?—”
“Hey, whoa.” Nash’s voice was calm and steady. “Bean is my brother, and I love him more than anything, but I also know he’s complicated. I was calling to check on you.”
I had no words.
“Are you hurt?”
“In what context?” I asked, my voice raspy.
“Clearly, your feelings are pretty hurt, but did he accidentally hurt you physically? Did you take an elbow to the face or something?”
It took me a moment to realize what he was asking about. It was an issue we’d talked about after Bean’s seizure.
“It wasn’t anything like that. I meant what I said when I told you that wouldn’t scare me off.”
I heard him let out a sigh. “Good. He’s been in a bad way. He and I are both banged up pretty bad after he spiraled.”
I winced. That was probably my fault. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all good. I wanted to make sure you were all right. He’s been working so damn hard on his impulse control issues, but sometimes?—”
“No,” I said quickly. “I understand. And I knew what to do if it got rough.” I hesitated, then asked, “Did he hurt himself or you too badly?”
“Nah. He was having a meltdown, and I got in the way. It stopped him from hurting himself, but I got a nice little chin shiner for it. My own fault. But I guess I’m wonderin’ now, if it wasn’t that, why did you take off on him without so much as a by your leave?”
Closing my eyes, I tipped my face up toward the sky. I wanted to tell him. I really did. Nash was far too easy to talk to, and he made even the most volatile situation feel safe. But it wasn’t fair to tell him first without Bean knowing.
“I’m going to talk to him,” I said slowly. “Soon.”
In that moment, I made up my mind. Bean had always been kind, and it wasn’t like he was trying to hurt me with the list. It was just the perfect accident. “But the truth is, I found out how he really feels about me, and it was too painful to take it.”
“Listen, I know that him bein’ in love with you isn’t the best timing and all, but he’d be willing to be patient as you worked through your divorce and?—”
I cut him off with a laugh. “Hang on. He’s not in love with me. Trust me. I know without a doubt that’s not how he feels.”
“He told you this himself?”
“I…” I hesitated. “I’d rather talk to him about it first, if you don’t mind. It’s only fair. I panicked after it happened, and he deserved better than me ghosting him.”
Nash let out a soft sigh. “You two do need to talk, that’s for damn sure. I’m headin’ home right now, and I won’t tell him we had a chat, but it would be real nice if you could put him out of his misery.”
“Yeah. Tomorrow after work,” I promised.
“Thanks,” Nash said. “And whatever happens, I hope we can stay in touch. You’re a good guy, Jarek.”
In spite of the fact that I felt justified in my hurt, I didn’t much feel like a good guy right then. Bean’s written words had destroyed me in ways I couldn’t describe, but the only person I wanted to soothe those wounds was the same one who’d caused them.
How fucked up was that?
“I’ll give you a call soon,” I said. I wasn’t sure if that was the truth or a lie, but Nash didn’t call me on it. He just said a quick goodbye, and then the call went silent.
Falling back into the sand, I let the phone drop from my fingers as I stared up at a collection of stars, wondering if I would really find the courage to confront Bean tomorrow and tell him exactly why I left.
Tapping my fingers on my desk, I stared at the text thread I’d pulled up on my Macbook. I’d spent the afternoon finding the courage to read through everything Bean had sent me, and I felt even worse now.