Life of the Party (72 page)

“So, I had this
crazy dream last night.” I started.

“Oh yeah? What
about?”

“Uh … I don’t
know. We were at this party … I don’t know where, but we were all
totally loaded.”

“Uh huh.” Riley
smirked. “That all seems plausible.”

“Yeah, that
part does, but then … man, this is crazy. You and I, we went
upstairs—” I paused, watching as Riley stiffened, his dark eyes
boring into mine, his hands suddenly tense around the coffee cup, “
… and we … we like, made out.” I finished.

The room was
totally silent for a moment. I stared at my friend, and he stared
back at me.

“Riley … this
actually happened, didn’t it?” I whispered, like I was afraid to
say it out loud. Riley gazed up at me, his face totally blank. Then
his head nodded ever so slightly. Yes.

I didn’t really
know what to say. I took a drag of my smoke. “I can’t believe I
didn’t remember this until right now.”

“You said you
blacked out. From the Quaaludes.” He answered evenly.

“I know. I
think I did. But for some reason, now I remember almost
everything.” I shook my head in amazement. “This is huge, Riley.
Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

“I tried.” He
looked down at his hands. “But I was a coward. I wanted to talk to
you about it, but you had no recollection. You seemed so happy that
way, not knowing … though I always wondered if maybe you did
remember, but pretended not to so we wouldn’t have to deal with
it.” He shrugged. “I was afraid it’d ruin our friendship. I was
afraid … I was afraid of a lot of things.”

“Riley … did we
…?” I bit my lip. I couldn’t say the words. “Did we …?”

“No.” He shook
his head. “No. We were maybe about to … but once we hit the bed,
you passed out.”

“Oh.” My cheeks
flushed red. “So I did pass out. That explains why I can’t
remember.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you
still could’ve told me about it.”

“I wanted to …
but I didn’t know what to do. You were so in love with Grey, and I
knew I’d just ruin everything by telling you.”

“Wait—”
Suddenly I remembered that night at the Aurora, the first time I
ever laid eyes on Grey and instantly fell in love with him. I
remembered Riley wanting to tell me something; trying desperately
to tell me something. “That night, at the concert. You were trying
to tell me then, weren’t you?”

“Yes.” He
admitted. “But I couldn’t.”

“I can’t
believe you.” I sat back, fuming. “We kissed. We made out. This is
huge, Riley. Were you ever going to tell me about it?”

“I don’t know.
Probably not.”

“What? Why
not?”

“Because. I
mean, I feel bad enough that you don’t remember. I didn’t know you
were on ‘ludes at the time ….” He paused. “But honestly Mackenzie …
it was amazing. It was probably the most amazing night of my life,
until you passed out.” He met my gaze, his dark eyes smiling
fondly. “I’m glad it happened, and I didn’t want you to … not
be.”

“What do you
mean?” Oh why did I ask him that? I met Riley’s gaze, terrified of
what was coming next, just knowing somehow what he was about to say
….

“I mean ….”
Riley took a deep breath, as if willing himself some courage. He
looked me straight in the eyes. “What I mean is … I’m in love with
you Mackenzie.” He admitted, rushing his words. “I’ve been in love
with you for as long as I can remember. Being apart from you this
year was torture for me, you’ll never know how bad it was. And I
know I may regret telling you this, and I know I might just be
wrecking everything, and I know this is probably horribly
inappropriate since your boyfriend died only three months ago, but
I love you. There. I said it.”

I stared at
him. I blinked stupidly. My mind rejected his words automatically.
I couldn’t bear to hear them. I didn’t want to hear them. They
would ruin everything, they threatened our entire relationship.

I swallowed
heavily. “What about Emily?”

Riley shook his
head. “Emily’s great. But you’re the only one for me.” He smiled
and let out a breath of relief. “I’ve wanted to tell you this for
so long.”

I didn’t know
what to do, how to respond. I stared into space, trying to fathom
what Riley was saying to me, trying to decide how to react. This
was impossible. It couldn’t be true. This was going to change
everything.

“You don’t love
me Riley.” I shook my head in vehement denial. “I mean, we kissed,
we could’ve … become something. But then you just left. You left
me. Maybe you feel some … some misplaced guilt for what’s happened
to me, or some sense of responsibility or something, but it’s not
love.”

“Listen to me,
Mackenzie.” Seriously Riley took my hands in his, forcing me to
look into his eyes, deep and sincere. “I will never forgive myself
for leaving you. Ever. I can’t say it was a mistake, because I had
to do it … I guess I just wish it could’ve happened differently.
I’m not asking you to understand. But believe me when I say this. I
do love you. I love you.” Riley squeezed my hand in his. It felt
nice, like an anchor for my swirling emotions. I didn’t know how to
deal with them. I didn’t know how to deal with this.

“I know it’s a
lot to take in, and I know it’s not really fair for me to ask you
this. Don’t feel like you have to answer right away ….”

“Riley
don’t—”

“I have to
know, Mac. Now that it’s out there, I have to know. Do you ever
think—maybe not now, but one day—that you will ever feel the same
way for me?” The words were rushed, like he had to get them out
before he lost his nerve.

“Could you love
me?”

I pulled my
hand away from him, overcome. Tears filled my eyes. “Stop it,
Riley. How can you expect me to answer that? I’m still in love with
Grey!”

“I know. I
know.” He groaned, dropping his head into his hands.

“How could you
do this to me?” I cried. “I need you so badly. So badly, you have
no idea. Things will never be the same after this.” The realization
shook me to the core. Abruptly I got up to my feet. “I have to
go.”

“No, stay
Mackenzie. Let’s talk this out ….”

“I can’t.” I
shook my head, ripping my hands from his grasp and running for the
door. By the time I made it to the hallway I was in a full sprint.
I took off so Riley couldn’t catch up, so he wouldn’t be able to
stop me, and I didn’t pause until I was safe in my bedroom,
breathless, the door shut on those terrible words and the threat
they represented.

At first I was
mad at him. Angry, furious, livid. Red cheeked, I paced the meagre
space of my little apartment in heated agitation. Why did Riley
have to feel this way about me? Why did he have to tell me about
it? Didn’t he know this was going to ruin everything? That we’d
never be the same again after this?

But as time
went on my terrified anger slowly faded away, gradually
surrendering itself to genuine compassion for my friend. I sat down
on the edge of my bed, willing myself to breathe—to breathe and
think rationally. Deep down I knew Riley couldn’t help it, that he
didn’t want to wreck things between us. “
We can’t help the ones
we love, Mac
,” he said over the phone that one time, when he’d
called to wish me happy birthday. I thought he’d been referring to
the Christian with that statement. But now I realized, in surprise,
he must have been talking about me.

I shook my head
and lit another cigarette, reluctantly impressed by the power of
Riley’s restraint. In awe of it, even. If he felt for me even an
iota like I’d felt for Grey, it was amazing he’d held out this
long. I remembered how recklessly, how impetuously I’d confessed my
feelings for Grey, so moved by his charm and his talent that I
couldn’t even hold the words in. But not Riley. He’d kept the
secret for years.

I sighed. That
was classic Riley though. Always putting my feelings first. He saw
how happy I was with Grey, so he denied himself; he suffered in
silence for months so he wouldn’t interfere with my delight, with
my contentment, my happiness. Completely selfless. It was the true
epitome of love.

It was
touching. Flattering, even. But I didn’t know if I could return
that love. I didn’t know if I could … feel that way about Riley. I
mean, he was my world—my whole world at the moment—and I honestly
couldn’t say where I’d be without him. Dead in a back alley
somewhere; or maybe like Allison, eagerly counting down the days
until my next hit. Riley had cared enough to put me in rehab. He’d
known enough to teach me about God. He’d loved me enough to try and
save my life.

But he’d also
left me. Maybe it was juvenile, but I couldn’t get past that one
harsh reality. Riley had left me. Just like that, we’d become like
strangers to each other. I couldn’t understand it, and for some
reason, I couldn’t forgive him for it either. How could he have
done that to me? How could he claim to love me, and then just leave
me like that?

I rested my
head in my hands and blinked down at the floor for a moment, trying
to get a handle on my thoughts and my feelings. I shut my eyes and
prayed, hoping for some divine wisdom, some insight that would help
us through this delicate situation with our relationship still
intact.

Because I
needed Riley dreadfully. That much I knew for certain. I just
wanted to cling to him. For a terrible, tempting moment, I actually
considered just … pretending. Pretending to love him, pretending to
feel the same way for him. If I did and he believed it … then maybe
he wouldn’t leave. Maybe he’d stay with me, and then I’d never have
to be alone. We’d never have to be apart ….

No, no, no. I
shook the idea quickly from my mind, appalled by the notion,
ashamed by the sheer depth of my selfishness. Riley truly loved me
and there I was, thinking of ways to manipulate him to stay. I
chuckled at myself in total disbelief, amazed that after all this
time, I could still be so awful. Rehab hadn’t changed that. Being
sober hadn’t changed that. Even God hadn’t changed that, not yet. I
was still selfish, still wrong. The only difference was now, I felt
convicted by it.

It hurt. The
guilt was actually painful. But like Riley said, it made me want to
change. With a sigh, I walked over to the window and stared glumly
out at the icy landscape beyond. Maybe for once in my life I could
try to do something right. I could try to be good. I could try, for
Riley. Shutting my eyes, I leaned against the cool brick wall and
forced myself to think of him, pushing all my wants and needs and
feelings to the side for once. What would be best for him? What
would make him happiest, in the long run?

And in an
instant, I knew I had the answer. I had to let Riley go.

It was the only
thing left, the only thing that made sense. Until I knew for
certain how I felt, until I knew if I could love him like he
deserved, I had to let him go. But the prospect was daunting. I bit
my lip, blinking back tears, my throat aching with every beat of my
quaking heart. I knew it was the right thing to do. Something I had
to do.

And the one
thing I’d never been able to, no matter how hard I tried.

Last summer
when Riley left me, the pain had been devastating. And this time,
there’d be no Grey to cushion the blow of his absence. There’d be
no drugs for me to use to hide from the hurt, to help push the
tormenting thoughts and memories of Riley away. I’d have to live
with it; I’d have to deal with it. Healthily, this time.

But I could do
it for him. Couldn’t I? Didn’t I owe him that much? I may not have
Grey to soothe me and I wouldn’t have the drugs to ease the hurt …
but I had God now. And I knew that borrowing his strength—somehow,
someway—I would get through it. I knew that he would help me. And I
knew that my friend, my best friend in the whole world, deserved
whatever happiness I could afford him. After everything he’d done
for me, I knew that Riley was worth it.

I loved him
enough to let him go. I had to.

I kept this
statement running through my head the next afternoon, as I forced
myself—with heavy heart and dragging feet—down the hallway to the
meeting room. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I was nervous,
anticipating inevitable awkwardness between us, afraid of what I
was going to do. It felt so unnatural to be selfless, like a
vegetarian suddenly having to down a t-bone. Against the grain.
Wrong.

But somewhere
deep, deep down, I knew it was right, too.

Riley gave me a
hesitant smile as I came through the door. I studied his face a
moment, grown so handsome over our time apart, so much older and
mature—and felt the first icy stab of loneliness pierce into my
soul. I tried to keep my expression blank and tried to calm my
heart—overwrought with expectation of the pain—from hammering its
way out of my ribs. With a shaky breath I sat down across from him,
steeling my resolve, hardening my will.

“So.” Riley
cleared his throat a moment, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.
He looked just as nervous as I was, but his dark eyes were still
warm, gazing at me fondly.

“So.” I
repeated quietly. I had no idea how to start.

He smiled at me
tentatively. “Mac, I owe you an apology.”

I blinked. “You
do?”

“Yeah.” Riley
cleared his throat.

“For what?”

“For yesterday.
For our conversation.” He let out a heavy breath. “Don’t get me
wrong. I don’t regret telling you. I’m glad it’s out there now. But
I do regret … asking you … how you feel ….”

“Riley—”

“No.” He held
up a hand, stopping me. “Please, don’t say a word. Really. The
whole drive home yesterday and all last night I just … thought
about it. And I realized how … how cruel it was of me to ask you
that question. So insensitive.”