Harlow sat up next to me but didn’t say anything. Her hand was warm on my back as she gently rubbed it. She didn’t tell me it was going to be okay because it wasn’t going to be, and she knew it. Armie was dead. And nothing could change that. Life had dealt us a cruel blow and no matter how much we wanted to turn back time and change it, life would push forward in this direction and Armie would be gone forever.
My head fell to my hands. I knew I had to accept it.
I just didn’t know how I was going to.
* * * * *
HARLOW
It was mid-afternoon and cloudy when we got up. I made coffee and sandwiches but no one was really hungry. The mood in the house was forlorn and every now and then someone would crack and start to cry or try desperately to fight off a wave of grief. Ringing cell phones was a constant. Tommy and Zack bought another bottle of bourbon and set about polishing it off, while Heath and Jesse decided it was best to stay sober. They left around five pm to meet Armie’s parents at the hospital.
“Will you be here when I get back?” Heath asked sadly.
I nodded. There was no work tonight. I had spoken to Fat Tony and he was closing The Palace for the evening out of respect for Armie. He was devastated. He’d had a lot of time for the lovable guitarist and was choked up on the phone when he heard the news. It was the first time The Palace had closed on a Saturday night in more than thirty years. He was buying a bottle of Cinzano, he explained, and getting hammered out of respect for Armie.
“If you need me to be here, then I’ll be here,” I told Heath and he wrapped his arms around me. His warmth was comforting and his body was a reassuring wall of strength. He held me tightly so my face was pressed firm against his strong chest. I could hear the hammering of his heart and I didn’t want to let him go. But with a kiss to the top of my head, he released me.
He wore a t-shirt over a long sleeved shirt, with his favorite Dodgers cap turned backwards and a pair of dark aviators. He looked so big and strong but I knew what was happening behind those dark glasses. He was barely holding it together. From the top of the steps I watched him leave and as soon as he was gone, I was desperate for him to come back.
Piper left not long after. Pale and exhausted, she just wanted to sleep in her own bed. She had known Armie since they were in grade school and was heartbroken. She hugged me and kissed me, her chin shaky as she disappeared out the front door.
Left alone and feeling empty¸ I ran a bath and sank into the warm water. The Dillinger house was unusually deserted. Leigh was out of town and wasn’t due back for another week. Likewise, Nikki was also out of town with girlfriends but after hearing about Armie had said she would be home the following day. I tilted my head back onto the tiled wall and closed my eyes, trying to make sense of everything. But my brain wasn’t ready to slow down and threw out so much information it made me dizzy. Tears streamed down my cheeks.
In three days I was due to fly home. But I couldn’t. Not now. I would move my flight forward to after Armie’s funeral. And I would stay and support Heath. He was still my best friend and I couldn’t leave him to face this on his own.
The sun had set by the time I climbed out of the tub and wrapped myself in a towel. I intended to wait for Heath, to be ready to offer him the support he needed when he came home, but after changing into a cami, sleep crept up on me and I fell into a deep well of dreams.
When I woke up the room was a pool of shadows and lamplight. Heath sat on the end of the bed, his head in his hands. Pink Floyd’s ‘The Wall’ played softly from the iPod dock. Good Bye Cruel World.
I crawled across the bed to put my arms around him.
“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice raspy from sleep.
He shook his head and his chin quivered. He wouldn’t look at me. His brows were pulled in and his mind seemed so far away. He still had his car keys in his hands.
“How are Armie’s parents?”
It took him a moment to answer. “Devastated,” he choked, and when he raised his eyes to look at me I could see the pain in his eyes. His face was a thin mask of control and it was about to break.
“It’s okay now. You don’t have to be brave anymore Heath. It’s just me here. You can let it out,” I said softly.
His tears fell quickly down his face and I pulled him to me. Today, when visiting with Armie’s parents, he would have been the strong one. Stoic. In control. A source of comfort. It was in his nature to lead and make sure the situation was well taken care of. But it would have drained him. It would have taken every ounce of his emotional strength to not fall apart.
Now he could.
He fell back onto the bed and pulled his forearms over his eyes. I went to the kitchen to get us a glass of wine and when I came back he was still on his back.
When he sat up again, he looked exhausted.
In the subdued light he looked young, boyish, more vulnerable than I could have ever imagined. Placing the glasses of wine on the bedside table, I knelt before him. I didn’t have any words. Words were pointless. But he looked so terribly sad and so devoid of hope that I had to give him a small ray of sunlight to hold onto in the darkness.
I tilted his chin so he had to look at me. The depth of the despair in the blue shadows wedged in my heart.
We held our gaze long enough for him to understand what I was about to do. His brow drew in and then smoothed again and I felt him relax a little.
The haunting strings of Hey You floated down from the speakers and filled the room as I leaned in and found his mouth with my lips.
He hesitated. And for a moment I thought he might pull away. But as my tongue slid over the delicate skin of his mouth, he groaned and his lips parted to let me in. Unsure at first, his tongue found mine and tangled in a gentle, familiar rhythm. Golden light filled my head, drugging my mind, as the sensations in my body collided with the melancholy magic of the music.
Heath pulled away and exhaled deeply.
“My head is so fucked up, Harlow,” he whispered.
I nodded. This would only make things better. Even if it was only for one night. It would be one night less of pain and grief.
With no words and without breaking eye contact, I rocked back on my heels and lifted my cami above my head. I was naked underneath, no bra, no thong, nothing but skin. Heath’s breath caught between his teeth, but he didn’t move. He waited, his eyes glazed over as they took in the image of me. All of me.
I walked on my knees until I was between his parted thighs and without words placed my hand on the base of his neck and pulled him into a kiss.
At first he hesitated. But with a sudden hiss of air he pulled me to my feet, his hands either side of my face as he kissed me, walking me backwards until my back was against the wall.
“Are you sure?” His eyes searched my face.
I nodded but he paused again and his beautiful eyes searched deep into mine.
“Harlow—”
“I want this,” I whispered. “Let’s just forget everything. For one night.”
He gave in then and his mouth fell to mine and his tongue filled my mouth. His kiss was desperate, a mix of grief and desire. We barely parted to shed his clothes. Then he lifted me into his strong arms and I wrapped my legs around him as he carried me to his bed.
When he sat down on the edge of his bed, I straddled him. My fingers curled around his jaw as I drew up on my knees and then very slowly slid down the length of him.
His eyes held mine but then closed with pleasure. His lips found my throat, his tongue sliding down the smooth plane of skin to the crook of my neck as he filled me. My head fell back. His touch was magical. Beneath me his body was hard and welcoming. He held me to him. His big hands pressed into my back and shoulders as I rode him. I felt high. Drugged by the intensity of the moment. Grateful for this moment where grief no longer existed. Only pleasure.
It felt amazing. Incredible.