parents… I mean… you know they love you. They just—” Dan’s voice cracks.
“Justin, I really need you to wake up now. You’ve got to show them they’re wrong. I understand that you needed some time to heal, I get that, and maybe you got a bit lost in there or something.” Dan moves a hand up to Justin’s forehead and smooths his hair back. “Please, Justin. Baby… we’re running out of time, here.”
Dan can feel the tears running down his face. “Justin, please.” He leans forward and buries his face in Justin’s chest. His voice is muffled in the sheets, but he talks anyways, willing the words to pass directly through Justin’s skin to his heart. “Please don’t leave me, Justin. Please don’t leave me alone.”
Dan isn’t sure how long he stays there like that, but when he finally sits up, his face is dry, though stiff with salt. He takes a deep breath. There’s been no change in Justin, but he hadn’t really expected one. Intellectually, he knows that Justin’s parents are right. Justin is gone. And he’s not coming back.
Emotionally, it’s a little harder to accept, to understand. What is Dan supposed to do with the Justin-shaped hole in his life? How can he say goodbye to all their plans, all their shared memories, when Justin is still right in front of him, looking not terribly different than he had before the accident? With a jolt, Dan realizes that maybe that’s the reason for Karl and Molly’s decision. Nobody can let go, not really, not while Justin’s body is still here. But Dan doesn’t think he’s ready to let go. He still needs Justin, needs to let a tiny part of himself believe that things could go back to the way they were, back to being perfect.
Dan remembers meeting Jeff, remembers how Jeff said they’d met before, at Rolex. The Californian had seemed to be pretty understanding about the fact that Dan couldn’t remember him. Dan knows he’d been in a daze that whole weekend. The Rolex Kentucky Three-Day Event is the top event in North America, and Justin had competed in it, on a horse that Dan had conditioned and helped to train. Add in the fact that they were from a local farm, with Justin Kentucky-born-and-bred, and they’d been treated like royalty all weekend long. And when Justin had won, an underdog coming from nowhere, he’d gone straight to Dan and pulled him into the messiest, goofiest, most enthusiastic kiss Dan had ever been a part of— and Justin had known that the TV cameras were rolling. Dan doesn’t understand how to reconcile that vibrant, intense man with the body lying on the bed in front of him, but he also doesn’t know how to let go of the only part of that man that’s still alive.
It’s ironic that Dan’s best and worst days with Justin both came at the same event, but a year apart. Justin had been so driven, so determined to repeat his triumph. The previous year’s victory had given a huge boost to the farm, with people clamoring for horses trained at the stable that had produced a Rolex winner. But Justin knew that the horse world was fickle, knew that he needed to keep winning in order for the farm’s success to continue. He’d done well in the dressage competition, and he was confident that he could put in a good performance at the jumping, but the cross-country was his chance to really shine. Dan had known he was wound too tight, had tried to talk him down, but Justin had been almost manic in his intensity. The last words Justin had ever spoken to Dan had been, “Back off, Dan. Don’t tell me how to ride!”
On a good day, Dan can comfort himself by knowing that he had at least tried to get Justin to ride safely. On a bad day, he wonders if Justin’s recklessness had come as much from anger at Dan as from his need to win, if Dan’s attitude had somehow disrupted the careful focus and concentration that was required to safely ride an elite cross-country course. He wonders what was going through Justin’s mind during the
“Justin, I really need you to wake up now. You’ve got to show them they’re wrong. I understand that you needed some time to heal, I get that, and maybe you got a bit lost in there or something.” Dan moves a hand up to Justin’s forehead and smooths his hair back. “Please, Justin. Baby… we’re running out of time, here.”
Dan can feel the tears running down his face. “Justin, please.” He leans forward and buries his face in Justin’s chest. His voice is muffled in the sheets, but he talks anyways, willing the words to pass directly through Justin’s skin to his heart. “Please don’t leave me, Justin. Please don’t leave me alone.”
Dan isn’t sure how long he stays there like that, but when he finally sits up, his face is dry, though stiff with salt. He takes a deep breath. There’s been no change in Justin, but he hadn’t really expected one. Intellectually, he knows that Justin’s parents are right. Justin is gone. And he’s not coming back.
Emotionally, it’s a little harder to accept, to understand. What is Dan supposed to do with the Justin-shaped hole in his life? How can he say goodbye to all their plans, all their shared memories, when Justin is still right in front of him, looking not terribly different than he had before the accident? With a jolt, Dan realizes that maybe that’s the reason for Karl and Molly’s decision. Nobody can let go, not really, not while Justin’s body is still here. But Dan doesn’t think he’s ready to let go. He still needs Justin, needs to let a tiny part of himself believe that things could go back to the way they were, back to being perfect.
Dan remembers meeting Jeff, remembers how Jeff said they’d met before, at Rolex. The Californian had seemed to be pretty understanding about the fact that Dan couldn’t remember him. Dan knows he’d been in a daze that whole weekend. The Rolex Kentucky Three-Day Event is the top event in North America, and Justin had competed in it, on a horse that Dan had conditioned and helped to train. Add in the fact that they were from a local farm, with Justin Kentucky-born-and-bred, and they’d been treated like royalty all weekend long. And when Justin had won, an underdog coming from nowhere, he’d gone straight to Dan and pulled him into the messiest, goofiest, most enthusiastic kiss Dan had ever been a part of— and Justin had known that the TV cameras were rolling. Dan doesn’t understand how to reconcile that vibrant, intense man with the body lying on the bed in front of him, but he also doesn’t know how to let go of the only part of that man that’s still alive.
It’s ironic that Dan’s best and worst days with Justin both came at the same event, but a year apart. Justin had been so driven, so determined to repeat his triumph. The previous year’s victory had given a huge boost to the farm, with people clamoring for horses trained at the stable that had produced a Rolex winner. But Justin knew that the horse world was fickle, knew that he needed to keep winning in order for the farm’s success to continue. He’d done well in the dressage competition, and he was confident that he could put in a good performance at the jumping, but the cross-country was his chance to really shine. Dan had known he was wound too tight, had tried to talk him down, but Justin had been almost manic in his intensity. The last words Justin had ever spoken to Dan had been, “Back off, Dan. Don’t tell me how to ride!”
On a good day, Dan can comfort himself by knowing that he had at least tried to get Justin to ride safely. On a bad day, he wonders if Justin’s recklessness had come as much from anger at Dan as from his need to win, if Dan’s attitude had somehow disrupted the careful focus and concentration that was required to safely ride an elite cross-country course. He wonders what was going through Justin’s mind during the
Similar Books
